7/10
Exploring tenuous relationships and themes of struggle to slow tempos and serene string sequences, four-piece band Japanese Breakfast’s newest LP, For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), is composed of captivating stories and perspectives. Those interesting narratives, however, aren’t elevated by their often-dull instrumentation.
Riddled with literary references and introspection, the band’s vocalist, lyricist, and lead guitarist, Michelle Zauner, steered the group in a more intimate and meditative direction. While the album has its fair share of thought-provoking tracks, its tranquil sound is often boring and lacks the upbeat sonic variety of the band’s 2021 album, Jubilee, or the rugged excitement of their first record, Psychopomp. While albums often benefit from cohesion, this project comes off as largely monotonous.
The opening track, “Here is Someone,” sets the tone for the album, describing Zauner’s difficulty grappling with notoriety, exemplifying the vulnerability she continues to weave throughout the album. “I don’t want to let you down / We’ve come so far / Can you see a life where we leave this behind?” Zauner sings, outlining her discontent for the public’s ever-growing expectations of her. Backed by lush and idyllic instrumentals, as well as delicate guitar picking, the song sounds undeniably similar to many later tracks on the record, including “Little Girl” and “Leda.”
“Orlando in Love” was inspired by the poem Orlando Innamorato, which describes a knight pursuing a woman. “I fell in love with the title and envisioned a sort of whimsical, foolish male protagonist who lives by the sea in a Winnebago RV and is seduced by a siren,” Zauner told Atwood Magazine. The song follows a man allured by a woman, who later drowns him. “Orlando in Love” superbly represents the album’s recurring motif of struggling with temptations. With a uniform rhythm and an instrumental energy that steadily escalates, the acoustics precisely reflect the structure of the narrative.
With striking drum sequences and dazing lyrics, “Mega Circuit” is undoubtedly an album standout. Not only is it set apart from the other tracks in terms of sound, its lyrics are interesting in their own right, exploring toxic masculinity by detailing a relationship where a woman is taken advantage. Referring to the friends of a love interest as “incel eunuchs,” and singing “I better shuffle my baby good / Or he’s gonna make me suffer the way I should,” Zauner depicts a sad reality for many women who are unjustly treated. Forceful percussion gives way to a more intense sound, differentiating the song from the rest of the album.
The following track, “Little Girl,” is told from an oscillating perspective. Some lines are sung through the viewpoint of a young girl who longs for a father she lost to alcoholism, while others are from the angle of the dad, who misses his daughter and exhibits a slim degree of remorse. Similar to the next track, “Leda,” the band utilizes subtle guitar strumming and light production to create an aura of intimacy. Using a soft and exasperated tone in her singing, Zauner brings attention to the exhaustion and resentment that arises from fractured relationships. While both songs are notable when considered alone, in the context of the whole album, and especially when listened to one after another, they lack individuality.
The seventh track, “Picture Window,” is the record’s most catchy track. With slightly more heavy production and a more-pronounced drumming sequence than other songs on the record, the track is certainly striking. Sounding almost like a song off of Jubilee, the song is, acoustically, a buoyant breath of fresh air amidst an otherwise dismal album.
The next song, “Men in Bars,” is best characterized as the most odd song on the LP. Including an unanticipated Jeff Bridges feature, the song outlines a fragile relationship plagued by unfaithful and dishonest behaviors. If not for the incongruity of Zauner and Bridges’ voices, the song would easily be one of the best on the album.
“Winter in LA,” one of the final tracks, perfectly encapsulates the record’s constant themes of despair. Zauner sings about an individual who feels like they are not enough for their partner, their depression contributing to a general feeling of apathy and an unwillingness to match their partner’s joyful demeanor. This misery and stark self-awareness manifests itself in guilt, with Zauner singing “I wish you had a happier woman / One that would leave the house.” Her velvety and light voice accompanied by bells ringing in the background softens the tone of an otherwise woeful song.
“Winter in LA” is one of the album’s few outstanding tracks, but aside from those, the project’s blissful string progressions and thoughtful lyricism can’t make up for its homogenous sound.
