Small updates and new Mitski

Hello friends, welcome to 2026 where 2016 was ten years ago and it’s become increasingly clear that executive branch of the US government should kick rocks. Not so much as post but a small update on things to come and housekeeping.

I have fortunately been busy. This piece about Jersey club came out on Bandcamp. My little magazine job has become medium-sized. More things are in the pipeline (some bashing thoughts, another is on a film about an alcoholic) which have me on the hook to do some work. To top it all off, I’m going to Mexico with my partner (for the first time—referring to the place and an extended trip with partner). So for those who have been wanting to feel warm with endless summer music, I appreciate the patience.

Currently I’m looking into alternatives to Spotify. It seems there is hope in “crates.app”, could be a solid option that collects tracks and points folk to the preferred music service. I think the simplest solution is Youtube Music playlist, which also makes it open season on whatever I find there. Nonetheless, here’s a link to YT playlist. If Crates pans out I’ll let you know.

It would feel inadequate to just sign off with no payoff so here’s an exceedingly brief thought on the newest Mitski single “Where’s My Phone?”:

I haven’t been a fan of her past two albums. Laurel Hell and The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We were disappointments as they ballooned so far out of the introspection that has defined Mitski’s discography. The baroque pop sensibility sounds like a cop out towards the vapid singer-songwriters that have populated the landscape in the decades since Bury Me At Makeout Creek. I have hope for the new Mitski returning to the punk scuzz of her early career, that had so much vulnerability on display. The manifestations of herself feel like she is ripping out a piece of herself describing the anxieties ensued by the ordinary problem that is misplacing your phone. Life could be easier if we didn’t have to think about anything: she sings, “I just want my mind to be a clear glass / Clear glass with nothing in my head”. What I love(d) about Mitski is her straightforwardness to complex feelings. Questions about one’s place in the world, abstract feelings towards human connection, ambiguous contemplations on autonomy and anatomy—she rocks because she says all of these things by quite clearly but they are obfuscated by her instrumentation and her deadpan and/or screeching delivery. “Where’s My Phone?” is mostly calm so no way to tell definitely what direction the rest of the album will go. I will be patiently waiting.

Talk soon friends.