Laurel Hell review: Everything we’ve been waiting for
Ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon; sad folk of all ages. For years, we have waited for this moment with bated breath. We have checked the Twitter bots, read the gossip columns and fantasized about the random release of an album, Taylor Swift-style. Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for—Mitski has finally released her latest album, Laurel Hell.
Since the release of Be the Cowboy, an album that reeked of success, rocking classics from “Washing Machine Heart” to “Nobody,” Mitski has remained characteristically quiet. Rather clearly in my mind, I can picture her meditating on the lyrics and melodies that she would work into her next album to show us yet again all of the style and intricacies that raise Mitski to the indie classic’s genre. And boy oh boy, did she deliver.
The album starts off with haunting melodies, characteristic of her earlier music, with “Valentine, Texas.” The song opens with the same glimmers of loneliness, dreamy sadness and meditative emotion that we’ve heard in songs like “Your Best American Girl” from her 2016 album Puberty 2. About halfway through the song, we hit the classic Mitski beat, switching in a moment from quiet whispers of song into a crashing rhythm, sweeping its listener into the next hit.
Released as a single late last year, “Working for the Knife” already has the most plays on the album by a landslide—understandably so. This song integrates every element of Mitski’s music that we hold dear, from the heart-rendering guitar solos to the stirring lyrics that seem almost hidden within what is an absolute upbeat banger.
“Working for the Knife” is followed up by a similarly characteristic song, moving effortlessly into “Stay Soft.” Just as only Mitski’s genius can, the rhythm of this song is captivating and exciting, oddly complementing the hard-hitting lyrics of the song that describe an unhealthy sexual relationship.
Mitski works in a soft break after these two uppers, launching into “Everyone.” While this song has the second to least number of plays on the album, it was the song that most struck me initially—while the lyrics “Then like a babe in a crib / After some big hand turns out the light / And I opened my arms wide to the dark / I said ‘Take it all, whatever you want’” were written in conversation with Mitski’s understanding of her own music career, these words are so arresting that I think everyone can find some big emotion to lean into. The hard-hitting piano chords at the end of this piece nearly knocked me out, making “Everyone” my favorite song on the album upon first listen.
“Heat Lightning,” the least popular of the pre-released singles on the album, champions similar themes in surrender, helplessness and feelings of insufficiency; here, Mitski knows she has a hold on her listener’s heartstrings, and she is tugging relentlessly.
Skillfully she moves into another banger, her second-most popular on the album. This is another “Nobody”-esque song, integrating the hollow and haunting lyrics “But I think for as long as we’re together / I’ll be the only heartbreaker” into an undeniable bop. There is no doubt in my mind that the sad girlies will be making TikTok dances to this one ASAP. “Love Me More” hits similarly hard with lyrics that yearn for a love that means something more, making the transition into “There’s Nothing Left for You” all the more heartbreaking.
As implied through its title, emptiness, longing and a desire to feel romantic and sexual connection are the headlines of “There’s Nothing Left for You.” The listener can hear the aching in Mitski’s voice and feel the pulsing of these feelings in every note.
“Should’ve Been Me” has the newest sound on this album, championing off-putting percussion and instrumentation in a manner that Mitski typically does not. This change is executed fantastically and implicates a welcome change into Mitski’s expansion as an artist while maintaining the rendering lyricism that she is known for.
The quick change from “Should’ve Been Me” into “I Guess,” the most explicitly sad song on this album, is enough to give its listener whiplash. Mitski expertly takes up her listeners expectations and twists them entirely, evoking the multiplicity of her sound and the complex themes of yearning and hollowness that she works into every melody beautifully and delicately. This song ends with the simple yet haunting lyrics “Thank you,” as Mitski says goodbye to a love that she feels has defined her “Since before I was me.”
Similar to “Should’ve Been Me,” this album ends with “That’s Our Lamp,” another banger that can break your heart if you listen closely. The triumphant rhythms that this song holds allow for an ending for the ages, closing out with the words “That’s where you loved me,” bringing her listener back to the central theme of so much of Mitski’s music—the loss of love, the longing for something fuller and the feeling of needing to feel another’s love in order to feel the sense of fulfillment that we are “supposed to” experience.
While some critics have labeled Laurel Hell as an imperfect follow-up to her past classics, I was completely floored by the complexity and nuance that Mitski showcased in this new album. Her lyrics are as heartbreaking as always and her rhythms as undeniably and discordantly bouncy. The changes that the listener can feel in her sound are fresh and welcome, showing us all that Mitski’s time away from releasing new material has boded well for her career and her audiences’ listening experience.