Mitski takes us to ‘Heaven’ in new album
Singer-songwriter Mitski’s new album, “The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We,” is a sweeping, lush experience that clocks in at just over 30 minutes. Released on Friday, Sept. 15, the album is Mitski’s seventh and continues to exemplify her remarkable lyricism and skill for transporting listeners to an entirely new world.
Mitski’s previous albums have ranged in genre from chamber pop to indie rock to synth-pop, but “The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We” is instead a slow, simmering Americana and country album that relies on the sounds of steel guitar and organ as easily as it does a full orchestra. “Heaven” opens with a characteristically country guitar twang before devolving into a symphony toward the middle – still with a country influence. “My Love Mine All Mine” is a slow ballad of romantic possessiveness; “I Don’t Like My Mind” is a loud, wailing tale of desperate overworking, all with the feeling of old-school country.
The Americana influence isn’t solely limited to the instrumentation: the entire album brings imagery of the Wild West and romantic notions of westward expansion. “Freight train stampedin’ through my backyard / It’ll run across the plains like the new buffalo replaced,” Mitski sings on “Buffalo Replaced.” The romantic world Mitski builds in the album feels new and untouchable, a place for the narrator and their lover to exist away from the hustle and bustle of life in the city.
However – as with the unreality of the romanticism of westward expansion – this place doesn’t really exist. The solitude of the West is often lonely, leading to the narrator in “The Frost” singing of the lost love of a friendship while having to confront the empty world on their own, wishing for someone to share in their memories.
Mitski also grapples with themes of demons and fallen angels, creating an occasionally Southern gothic or ghost town feel to the album. These demons can be the nighttime devil the narrator sells their soul to in “The Deal,” or, more frequently, the narrator themself, a wrathful, fallen-angel alcoholic in “Bug Like An Angel” or a betraying god – complete with the baying of angry hounds – in “I’m Your Man.” Mitski moves between the light and the dark masterfully, weaving together stories of love, betrayal and loneliness.
As short as some of the songs are – most are under three minutes – the album is transportive, leaving listeners wanting more without feeling like it was underdeveloped or lacking. Each song is exactly where it should be on the track list and contributes to the full journey. “Star,” which was released as a single and, at the time, felt strangely underwhelming despite the sweeping symphony it contains, shines in its place toward the end of the album. The song’s grandiose orchestra is a perfect culmination of the eight tracks that came before it.
The final track, “I Love Me After You,” closes out the album with a mildly eerie but ultimately loving feel, drawing on the themes of possession as Mitski sings of being king of all the land. The land may be inhospitable, but so are we, and Mitski seems to find comfort in this shared carving-out of space.
