Album Review: Mitski and the Business of Being the Cowboy
Written by Zoe Judilla
Mitski Miyawaki makes music for the emotionally ravenous. The 27-year-old songwriter’s fifth album glimmers as it explores the various forms love distorts itself into; she owns loneliness as her sidekick and stares you directly in the eye as she takes no prisoners.
Be the Cowboy consists of 14 relatively concise songs, each serving as a sliver of a love story and its accompanying emotional state — you almost feel like you’ve accidentally stumbled into each track. Mitski experiments with jarringly different styles, from the Western-esque “Lonesome Love” to the addictive disco ballad of “Nobody,” reflecting her mastery of fervency and composure all at once in a way one wouldn’t expect to work. Unified by her vaguely gothic, understated vocals and introspective lyrics, Mitski manages to convey emotional immediacy so steadily, celebrating her own vulnerability with humor and heartache with unabashed honesty.
The sonic landscape of Be the Cowboy portrays the variety of loneliness and love in its run. The opening track, “Geyser,” hums ominously before it is interrupted by an unsettling distortion — as the song gradually picks up to a victorious rush of drums and orchestral strings, it becomes reminiscent of the adventurous potential a cowboy persona brings. Determined and self-aware, she proclaims, “I will be the one you need / I just can’t be without you.”
The range in genres is evident in tracks like the traditionally rock “Remember My Name,” deft with distorted guitar and pounding drums, followed immediately by the bouncy fantasy of “Me and My Husband,” narrated by a wife desperately attempting to convince the listener, “Me and my husband / We are doing better.” Even the shift into the dark and hazy “Come into the Water” emanates a distinct dream-pop quality unlike the previous tracks.
But perhaps the most far-fetched genre present in the album is the disco-pop inherent in “Nobody,” a hypnotizing anthem of loneliness that tackles the dance-while-you-cry trope so effortlessly. Over manically-energized guitar, Mitski croons, “And I know no one will save me / I'm just asking for a kiss / Give me one good movie kiss / And I'll be alright.” The songwriter not only acknowledges the pitiful nature of her loneliness — she revels in it.
In addition to Mitski’s impressively diverse sound, Be the Cowboy shines lyrically. Songs such as “A Pearl” recount the toxic nature of a relationship, as Mitski angrily admits, “I fell in love with a war / And nobody told me it ended” while the seemingly innocent, country-tinged “Lonesome Love” puts up a façade of cockiness before revealing to her lover, “Nobody butters me up like you, and / Nobody fucks me like me.”
The final track of the album, “Two Slow Dancers,” is sonically candid yet emotionally intricate, a careful examination of an older couple of ex-lovers swaying below a disco ball in a high school gymnasium. The image of the elderly in an adolescent setting, reminiscing what could’ve been in their own makeshift prom, encompasses Be the Cowboy’s exploration of love as it relates to, and attempts to separate itself from, loneliness. The ballad ends with an unresolved chord as the couple fades from view.
When asked what the title of Be the Cowboy meant, Mitski revealed it was a fully-fledged persona of a woman in control. “When I say cowboy, I'm talking about the Marlboro myth of a cowboy — the very strong, white male identity. And so as an Asian woman, I sometimes feel I need to tap into that to achieve things that maybe I don't believe I can achieve,” she tells NPR.
Mitski’s learned ability to utilize both personal and fictional journeys against a backdrop of unpredictable melodies creates a visceral piece of art that bares it all. And while it is uncertain whether or not she will end up riding into the sunset alone, she has finally come to terms with the business of being the cowboy: at once big and small, brash and timid, and with a pistol always cocked at the ready for her next impassioned adventure.