Mitski has a well-earned reputation for scream-in-the-car-worthy songs of catharsis that sneak in moments of profound beauty. Even as her most recent two albums, 2019’s Be the Cowboy and last year’s Laurel Hell, saw the songwriter embrace disco and pop, her writing remained as emotional as ever — with the major difference being you could now feasibly choreograph a TikTok dance to it. So, with her latest project bearing a title fit for a black metal album, you’d be forgiven for bracing for her most depressing work yet. But as it turns out, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We finds Mitski at her most peaceful, hopeful, and, yes, loving.
From the onset, the tone of The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We starkly contrasts the two records that preceded it. Instead of sequenced beats and synth lines, the album embraces flesh, blood, and warmth. With heavy use of pedal steel, choirs, gentle piano, and even a full orchestra, the 11 songs sound remarkably comfortable even at their most dramatic.
The appropriately titled “Heaven” pitters-patters at the pace of a lazy Sunday drive while Mitski competes with the strings and pedal steel to see who can produce the most heart-warming melody. “My Love Mine All Mine” has enough raw beauty baked into its piano-led ballad to bring a tear to the eye of even the most stoic of listeners. The chorus, subdued and sung with impressive restraint, instantly becomes one of the most touching moments across her entire discography.
On the surface, such a vibe change is the result of leaning further into the stylings of baroque-pop, Americana, and country music. Much like Angel Olsen’s transformation into a country troubadour on Big Time, Mitksi’s embrace of earth-grown sounds retains her identity as an artist but recontextualizes her position and role. Older favorites like “Nobody” or “I Bet On Losing Dogs” came across as confessional expressions of Mitski’s inner turmoil, and listening to them felt like she was allowing her audience to peer into specific lived experiences; it’s what gave them so much power. With a simple change in instrumentation and a slightly reeled-in vocal performance, though, the tunes of The Land Is Inhospitable feel entirely different.
As if she pulled an Uno reverse card on her fanbase, Mitski upends the implied relationship inherent in her songs. Instead of allowing us to poke around inside her head, tunes like “The Frost” and “The Deal” enter the space of the listener, examining broader ideas of life and love that are destined to resonate so thoroughly that you wonder if Mitski based the song on you.
Even when a story is presented in first person, Mitski comes through with such universality that they feel like parables. Take opener “Bug Like an Angel,” a low-key cut that opens up thanks to an avalanche of a choir. If it had been on a different project, fans would have almost certainly assumed the song was a reflection of the artist’s real relationships (which, to be fair, might still very well be the case). Because of the wizened presentation, however, the “I” instead exists more as a stand-in for anyone and everyone.
