Halfway through the set, at least three people in the front row were in tears. The sheer emotional impact of Mitski’s presence was a testament to her power — she’s the kind of performer who can invoke a sense of near-spiritual camaraderie within crowds. In addition to her musical prowess, she’s also fluent in the language of 21st-century fan engagement, active on social media and known for making a conscious effort to provide a safe space at her shows. For the largely young and diverse audience who came to see her at The Southern last Thursday night, Mitski’s voice was a vital affirmation of themselves amidst uncertain times.
While Mitski’s songs aren’t explicitly political, her lyricism has always reflected her identity. As a young Japanese-American woman, she spent her childhood moving from country to country before settling in New York. She discusses feelings of alienation, depression and shame with heartfelt frankness throughout her work, particularly her most recent releases, which include 2014’s “Bury Me at Makeout Creek” and 2016’s “Puberty 2.” She gained national renown amongst alternative music fans with this pair of critically-acclaimed albums.
The openers, Toronto art rockers Weaves and English dream pop act Fear of Men played energetic lo-fi melodies and ethereal, synthy hymns, respectively. Yet, when Mitski took the stage in no makeup and a casual white button-down, the atmosphere felt distinctly more intimate. It was a slow-burn set, starting out with languid love songs like “Once More to See You,”before building to more orchestral anthems like “First Love / Late Spring.” The heady voltage of the music roused the entire audience into joining in the repeated assertion of self-worth.
Mitski closed the show with only an acoustic guitar and her raw, bracing vocals. The crowd sang along to her impassioned plea to “Kill me, Jerusalem” with almost rapturous joy, and the emotionally charged set culminated with Mitski raising her guitar to her own mouth. Before leaving the stage, she laid down her “I Bet on Losing Dogs.”
The show displayed the variety in her music. “First Love / Late Spring” finds her plaintively singing, “One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I'm on, baby” over gorgeous, shimmering organs. In contrast, “I Bet on Losing Dogs” details the self-destructive sexual desire to have “someone to watch me die” over a symphonic drone which acts as a sonic reiteration of her own lethargy. Despite these songs’ unabashed sadness, the audience’s ardent response to Mitski’s performance was inviograting. The Southern’s space created something almost celebratory from Mitski’s shared vulnerability.
The crowd reached fever pitch upon recognizing the opening strains of “Your Best American Girl,” a cathartic crowd-pleaser that describes her love for an “all-American boy” who can’t be hers because of how different the worlds they inhabit are. The song reflects a futile desire that echoes an outsider’s pursuit of the semi-mythic American dream itself. Mitski’s longing felt heart-achingly tangible in the soft initial croons of “You’re the sun, you’ve never seen the night ... Well, I’m not the Moon, I’m not even a star.”
At the end of her show, Mitski proved herself aware of the transience of her own performance, and reminded her audience not to ask for an encore by saying, “When it’s over, it’s over.” Maybe it was, but it was also a show that lingered in memory long after.
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