Album Review: Mitski - Puberty 2
From the moment Puberty
2 starts, I found there to be something both hauntingly and comfortingly
sincere about Mitski Miyawaki’s voice. Throughout the album, she straddles the
juxtaposition of both the fragile and wounded with the strong and confident.
It’s an interesting balancing act, and it’s one she pulls off nearly
effortlessly.
First, let’s start with that title—Puberty 2. What the fuck does that mean? I have no idea, but
Miyawaki has a history of eyebrow raising album titles, including one called Retired From Sad, New Career in Business,
and another called Bury Me at Makeout
Creek (a “Simpsons” reference, I guess.)
Puberty 2 is her
first for the Secretly Canadian imprint Dead Oceans, and moving up in the ranks
to a well respected indie label can be heard throughout the album—the
production values are exponentially larger in comparison to her earlier work.
On her first two records, she explored more of an esoteric post-Fiona Apple,
post-Tori Amos caterwauling behind a piano; on Bury Me, she started to find her voice more as a “bandleader,” per
se, growing more comfortable in adding loud, distorted guitars and pummeling
percussion.
Throughout the album, Miyawaki mixes bits of the hazy,
dreamy quality of many modern shoegaze bands with the knack for short, hook
driven pop songs that share a similar aesthetic with girl groups. I think I
wasn’t very far into my first listen of Puberty
2 when I thought that this is what Best Coast could have been had Bethany
Cosentino not just fallen off completely with the band’s sophomore slump.
The album’s two lead singles, “Happy,” and the astoundingly
good “Your Best American Girl,” also happen to be two of Puberty 2’s best tracks—which is not to say the other nine songs on
the album are filler; they are anything but, save for the one misstep—the
brash, acoustic explosion of “My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars.”
The glitchy, calm in its own nervy tension “Happy” calls to
mind self-titled-era St. Vincent in its song structure; the follow up track,
“Dan The Dancer” is powered with a garage rock energy that Miyawaki then switches
up with the woozy slow jam “Once More to Be With You.”
Then album’s centerpiece is the aforementioned “Your Best
American Girl,” which is, with out a doubt, one of the most impressive songs I
have heard in 2016. Beginning unassumingly, Miyawaki allows the song to
organically build through the song’s verse and pre-chorus before it beautifully
and emotionally explodes in the song’s frisson inducing refrain.
And it’s not just indie rock theatrics on “Your Best
American Girl”—Miyawaki has a point: “Your
mother wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me, but I do. I think I do. And
you’re an all-American boy, and I guess I couldn’t trying to be your best
American girl,” she howls assertively over the song’s incredibly slick
production.
Following the halfway point on the album, it slows down with
the self-deprecating, somber “I Bet on Losing Dogs,” and the skittering,
pleading ballad “Thursday Girl” before picking up again with the pop-punk blast
“A Loving Feeling.”
The album’s longest song is also its most poignant, and
possibly most polarizing—clocking it at nearly five minutes is the ghostly
dirge “Crack Baby”; a stark title as (according to Genius dot com) Miyawaki
compares the need for happiness to drug addiction—“You know that you had it once, and you know that you want it back,”
she says over heavy, pensive synths and drum machines.
And even before the album was released, Miyawaki caught
flack for the song on Twitter—responding by simply saying it was written when
she was a teenager and in a bad place, and that’s all she could divulge on the
matter.
“Happiness” as an idea, or a myth, is a concept that runs
throughout Puberty 2. “Happiness fucks you. Happiness is up,
sadness is down, but one’s almost more destructive than the other,” she has
said in the promotional materials for the album. “When you realize you can’t
have one without the other, it’s possible to spend periods of happiness just
waiting for that other wave.”
Miyawaki successfully
captures that up and that down and the waiting for that other wave on Puberty 2—a smart, thought provoking
record, that tackles serious concepts by pairing them with a wide sonic
landscape. Her fourth album in four years, it’s an impressive collection that
shows a depth, growth, and maturity you rarely see in young performers.
Puberty 2 is out now via Dead Oceans.
Puberty 2 is out now via Dead Oceans.
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