Michelle Zauner has never shied away from her pain, but on For Melancholy Brunettes (and Sad Women), she lets it sit beside her, drink her wine, and hum along to the sadness. This latest release, For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), from Japanese Breakfast feels like a foggy bedroom mirror: slightly distorted, deeply personal, and achingly beautiful in its vulnerability. It’s also way less shimmery or concerned with creating the indie pop, easy to grab onto bops that are found on Jubilee, and more into the storytelling aspect of songwriting.
If Jubilee was Zauner reaching for joy through grief, Melancholy Brunettes is her confession that sometimes we just stay in the wreckage a little longer. The production is lush yet restrained, a blend of synth-pop melancholy and shoegaze haze in the form of “Honey Water,” like the soundtrack to crying in a cab while watching your reflection in the window blur.
Many of these tales feel slightly Shakespearean or lyrically delve into the themes found in Greek tragedies, which usually concern stupid men and their stupid decisions, like we find of the neo-country tinged “Mega Circuit.” It’s all very super dramatic, but almost a bit satirical, using strings, synths, and watery guitars to create a melancholic baroque pop bed as Zauner takes you on her perilous journey, navigating toxic relationships, nihilism, and trying to keep those relationships afloat. Outside of Japanese Breakfast, Zauner is, in fact, an author, so her playful storytelling and colourful character mind studies that switch perspectives are part of For Melancholy‘s charm.
The biggest surprise on this thing has to be Zauner’s collaboration with Jeff Bridges, yeah, The Dude himself, on the track “Men in Bars,”— which kind of pokes fun at the sad cowboy strongmen dynamics in music from guys like Johnny Cash or Marty Robbins. Bridges himself has released music before, but I don’t think anyone could have predicted this collaboration, not in a million years, but the tragic love story duet really works. Zauner’s carefree vocals with Bridges’ restrained, kind of Nick Cave-y twang are a weird match.
If you’re looking for those hooky indie pop tracks from Jubilee, you won’t find them on Melancholy Brunettes. Instead, you’ll find an introspective album with lush instrumentation, rich stories, and maybe Japanese Breakfast’s best put-together album.
