On Thursday, Sept. 12, Japanese-American singer-songwriter Mitski brought the final leg of her The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We tour, promoting her most recent album of the same name, to the Moody Center in Austin, Texas. Suffice to say, it spiritually changed me.
This was my first ever solo concert, and in my proper anxious fashion, I arrived almost three hours early. Luckily, this meant I got first dibs on merch and I was within the first twenty people in line to get into the arena. Once in line, I called my mom to tell her I was going to a Mitski concert, and despite the five times I had to explain how to pronounce “Mitski” to her, I was happy to hear a familiar voice.
At 6:30 p.m., people were finally let inside, and after getting my bag searched and my ticket scanned, I found an outlet inside and sat down to charge my phone. I sat near the iconic Moody Center sign that now read “My Mood Is Mine All Mine,” an homage to Mitski’s trendiest song off the album. A line formed of people wanting to get their picture taken in front of it, and after building up a shred of courage, I joined in. When the group of girls in front of me were next up, I offered to take a picture of all three of them, and they took a picture of me in return, which came out beautiful!
Finally closer to the start of the show, I made my way up the escalator and found my section. A very kind usher helped me find my seat, and once in it, the excitement kicked in. Though I was quite high up, my seat was directly in front of the stage! To the right of me sat a lively group of friends, but to my left was another girl who came by herself, so I didn’t feel as desolate as I thought I would.
Promptly at 8 p.m., the lights dimmed and opener Ethel Cain took the stage. Admittedly, I was a tad unfamiliar with her music at the time, but believe me, she won’t be leaving my rotation anytime soon. Her contemporary gothic sound was the perfect antecedent to Mitski’s performance. A few songs in, she covered Kim Carnes’s “Bette Davis Eyes,” a classic American soft rock song I’ve always loved. By the time the lights came back on at the end of her set, the crowd and I were appropriately both hyped and melancholic.
The room was again pitch black and lights illuminated the scarlet curtain on stage as Mitski strutted out and stepped behind it. Beginning with the slow ballad “Everyone” and breaking out into shadow choreography, Mitski had me in the palm of her hands. Three songs in, she finally addressed the audience. In her short speech, she referenced one of The Rock’s catchphrases from his WWE days, “Know your role.”
“I know my role, and I’ve been training for it my whole life,” she said. “It is the sad clown.”
After the crowd erupted in laughter, she went on to talk about her connection to Austin, mentioning her older song “Texas Reznikoff” (though it wasn’t part of the setlist, sadly). She then urged everyone not to give up on Texas, alluding to our state’s divisive political climate, and encouraged us to register to vote. For this tour, she partnered with HeadCount, an organization that registers voters at concerts, festivals and community events nationwide.
A few more heartbreaking slow songs from her most recent two albums and a lot of interpretive dance later, she threw it back to a gut-wrenching classic, “I Bet on Losing Dogs.” Dear reader, I can assure you that I bet on the most losing-est of dogs. The entire arena sang along to every lyric, some stifling back tears and others letting the waterworks flow. I was a part of the latter, and to my own surprise, my tears brought me an overwhelming sense of comfort. This song holds a special place in my heart, and hearing it live was nothing short of spectacular.
The hits, old and new, kept on coming. Couples swayed to “My Love Mine All Mine,” a breathtaking ballad dedicated to the moon. Pieces of reflective material hung in the air and glimmered fantastically, complemented by hundreds of phone flashlights in the audience. Though my own sweetheart was back at home, I was filled with warmth and love as I swayed alone.
In stark contrast, her next song, “Last Words of a Shooting Star,” about her own experience with depression and suicidal ideation, shattered my heart into a million pieces. I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t get any words out, yet I mouthed every lyric I could. This one is also one of my favorites, as she describes such heavy emotions in such tragically beautiful metaphors.
The mood brightened again with “Pink in the Night,” another love song that illuminated the arena. Her next few songs, a mix of upbeat and low, captivated the audience through the encore, “Nobody” and “Washing Machine Heart,” her two most vivacious songs. The crowd roared as confetti flew, the perfect ending to an emotional rollercoaster of a night.
In the end, I left the Moody Center with more than just memories of breathtaking performances. I walked out with a deep sense of how intertwined love and loneliness can be. Alone at a concert, surrounded by strangers who shared my heartache and joy, I realized that even in solitude, I am never truly without love.