Review Summary: Finding satisfaction in familiar beauty
Japanese Breakfast’s fourth studio album,
For Melancholy Brunettes (& Sad Women), is intricate and pretty, but underwhelming compared to her first 3 albums. There is no single song that stands up to her past highlights – the immediacy of “Paprika”, the innovation of “Machinist” or the grit of “Rugged Country”. The Blake Mills production is beautifully polished but a tad artificial, like a snow globe that catches the sun’s rays iridescently… before you notice an entire row of them on the shelf and it dilutes the magic just slightly.
It reminds me of the recent Soccer Mommy album
Evergreen (also their 4th studio recording), which was also focused around its heartfelt lyrics, didn’t push any boundaries, but was quietly devastating and beautiful. A future deep cut in their discography, if you will. You’re left craving, because you know that Japanese Breakfast’s Michelle Zauner is capable of a lot more, but the taste that
For Melancholy Brunettes gives you is still complex and sweet. It’s just not entirely satisfying, like a delicious amuse-bouche served before a dinner that never materialises.
So why is my rating still so high, despite my apparent disappointment? Well,
For Melancholy Brunettes is definitely the most consistent Japanese Breakfast album to date, having forgone any sparse ballads or unnecessary interludes to break its flow. Its short runtime also makes for an incredibly easy listen and leaves you reaching for the replay button. Thanks to Zauner’s intimate songwriting style which she has nurtured over the last decade, there will be a highlight for everyone here (despite the album’s title), as long as you’re prepared to let your guard down.
For me, it’s “Winter In LA”, a gorgeous ditty that presents a subverted cliché of a woman singing laid-back California melodies over a backdrop of Christmas bells, but with earnest lyrics that paint the grim picture of depression and agoraphobia. In a touch of (perhaps deliberate) irony, the song finally kicks into gear with a full percussion section just as it starts to gently fade out, mirroring how
Melancholy Brunettes also, with a smirk, holds itself back from its full 10/10 potential.
