Mitski is playing The Funhouse at El CorazĂłn this Saturday, June 27.
Mitski is playing The Funhouse at El CorazĂłn this Saturday, June 27.

I didn’t know anything about Mitski Miyawaki—who goes by her first name on stage—before I heard Bury Me at Makeout Creek in the fall of 2014, so I was startled to learn that she had two previous albums. (The most recent is named for a line in a Simpsons' episode.)

Her third LP opens with the type of gentle acoustic strumming you'd typically associate with a classic folk record, before one screeching guitar note quickly cuts in to disrupt that association on "Texas Reznikoff."

Yes, this is a record enamored of the distorted '90s fuzz sound that has been making a comeback in recent years, but what saves Mitski from being your typical young kid nostalgic for a generation not her own, is the precision of her insight. These songs contain astute observations about matters of the heart and wisdom beyond what you would expect from a 24-year-old.

The lyrics are poetic: "I want to kiss like my heart is hitting the drums," "If your hands need to break/More than trinkets in the room/You can lean on my arm/As you break my heart." Bury Me at Makeout Creek runs the gamut of romantic entanglement from the passionate falling to the chaotic, messy disintegration.

Originally released on Double Double Whammy—and recently re-released in April on Don Giovanni Records—the record is not the only thing that has endeared Mitski to her audience. Her online presence is both a fan clubhouse and platform for social consciousness. She's always responding to questions on Tumblr and dropping little nuggets of common sense on her Twitter account.


She's also hilarious.


And while a clever social media presence is only as good as its artist, Mitski's well on her way to establishing longevity. She’s already got a new record in the works with her longtime producer Patrick Hyland, but it'll be a minute before we get to hear it. She'll be spending 2015 on tour with Elvis Depressedly and Eskimeaux, and trying to release another album next year.

In fact, she's playing Seattle for the very first time—with both bands mentioned above—on Saturday June 27 at The Funhouse at El Corazón.

When we spoke, Mitski was in her tour van, driving through Pittsburgh and listening to Vince Staples. (Probably because she is my spirit animal.) We talked about how she deals with annoying inquiries backstage, her definition of adulthood, and her rocking, hot pink bass guitar.

I wanted to let you know, it really resonated with me when you were talking about “cool art boys” and “gear boys” on Twitter. I started writing about music in my mid-20s, so I’ve always felt like I was playing a little bit of catch-up in the scene.

It’s interesting when that happens at my shows because you’re here to see me play music. You even paid to see it, and yet you’re talking to me like I don’t know anything. It’s kind of wild sometimes when that happens.



The way I experience this as a writer is getting quizzed about B-sides.

Oh yeah, all the time. The really familiar feeling is asking questions, checking my knowledge. Are you using this gear? Have you heard about this gear? What does this gear do? And you can tell that they know the answer, but they’re just asking you anyway and that’s such a pointless penis competition. This is how big my dick is? You have a dick now? It’s so pointless. At the end of the day, I’m playing the songs, it’s not about the gear. The gear helps. Knowing about the gear and knowing how to manipulate the instruments help convey the message of the song, but at the end of the day it’s about the song itself.

How do you deal with these types of questions when you’re backstage?

I’ve started to respond, “Oh, I don’t know. Sorry, I have to go play MY show.” It’s totally okay to not know any of this shit because the information that they highly value isn’t the information that is the most valued. Just because they think it’s important doesn’t mean it is the most important thing. You know things that they don’t know and that is valuable to you.


I love that you choose to play a hot pink bass. Is that a conscious choice, a response to these types of dudes? I like to think of it as flaunting a signifier of your femininity.

[Laughs.] I have to say it wasn’t conscious, in that I didn’t buy it. It was a gift. But I chose to keep using it because of all the comments and because people say exactly what you just said.

I read recently that Bury Me at Makeout Creek is the album where you said, “Fuck it. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to write what I wanna write, I’m going to play what I wanna play,” and it’s gotten such a great response for you. Do you think there’s a particular reason why people connect so strongly with this album?

The easy answer is it’s rock band instruments, it’s guitar songs, so more people relate to that. But, honestly? The third record is the first one I actually promoted. The first two records were my junior and senior projects in college. I made them, but I just put them on bandcamp and didn’t do anything about them. I didn’t play live. They were just sitting on the internet. Whereas the third one, I put out after I graduated college and I decided to peruse it because I realized [attention] wasn’t just going to come to me. So, I went out and played a shit ton of shows and told people about it and sent it to blogs. I actively worked for it.

Was there ever a moment when you were making the album, when you realized you were onto something? Did you anticipate it being so well-received?

I don’t think so. It was made in such little bits and pieces, I didn’t have a studio or anything. One day, I would just track guitar for one song and then my time would be up in that certain place. Or I would just do vocals for certain songs and everything was so broken up into little pieces. I didn’t really have a moment to think about the bigger picture. I was just so focused on getting each little thing done. While going to work and trying to be an adult and pay rent and stuff. So I don’t think I actually had the space in my brain to think about that.

It’s funny that you bring up adulthood. My definition of adulthood definitely does not contain the usual standards—marriage, kids, house. What does adulthood look like when you’re in a band and out on tour? How do you define it?

A few years back, I would have said not having to depend on anybody to live. But now that I’m actually growing up, I’m realizing that you heavily need to depend on other people to live and that doesn’t change. In fact, that probably becomes more important as you get older. What I think today, and this might change tomorrow, is that being an adult is understanding you’re not the center of the world. You’re just one little minnow in a big sea. And that’s okay.

So you’re working on a new album? How are you going to do that in conjunction with the new tour?

I actually recorded the fourth album a while ago, in January. I just got a focused amount of time in the studio—two weeks at Acme Studios—and banged it all out, because I knew that I wouldn’t really have any other time to record with touring. I tend to work with my environment rather than against it. Now we’re at the point where I’m on the road a lot, whenever I’m back we mix together little by little, and kind of step away and come back to it so I can actually hear it with fresh ears.

Are you going to try and release it before the end of the year?

No. This whole year is going to be about touring for Bury Me. Before I put out my next record, I want to get more practice learning how to play bigger spaces and touring in the US and hopefully Europe later. I want to get that under my belt before I start anything new.

Do you feel it’s accurate when people call you a “breakout star”?

It’s so weird to be called a breakout star because I’ve been alive for 24 years and I’ve had to deal with my own shit for 24 years. I’m actually done, I don’t want me anymore. I’m old news. I still don’t relate [Bury Me at Makeout Creek] to a breakout record because it’s been a very gradual process. I wouldn’t have known how to promote my music and be a professional artist if I didn’t have those little baby steps that those first two records helped me take. But I understand, to the public, this is the first time that a lot of people are seeing me.

I feel like a lot of young artists don’t get to have that time period you’re discussing. There’s no gradual process, there’s only the spotlight. Then, they sink or swim.

I totally agree. If I were asked to play Music Hall of Williamsburg right after I put out my first record, I would not have handled that situation well, even if I got through the show. I probably would not known how to perform, or fill the space. I’m glad that I had that time to grow without anyone pressuring me to be bigger than I actually am.

You’ve been vocal about not liking certain interview questions. What’s your least favorite?

There’s the question of “What’s your influence?” but I realized that’s probably just me. I still haven’t really figured out my influences. But also, when things are way too personal and involve my significant other, because that’s none of your business. I say, “No comment.” I understand where that question comes from, because I have very confessional, revealing songs, but I like to keep that to my songs. I don’t actually like to talk about it with people I don’t know.

I think it makes sense to keep some things to yourself. I was asking that question because I was thinking about this ongoing trend of female musicians getting asked about their appearance, like that piece in The New York Times about St. Vincent—who I love—where all it discussed were her beauty tips. I wanted to read it, but I was also horrified by it.

With my appearance, it’s always surprising more than annoying. It’s always like, “Oh, I just remembered that I’m being judged for my appearance. I had very blissfully forgotten for a second, but you wouldn’t let me forget.” There was an article that said, “famously underdressed Mitski,” and I did not realize that I was famously underdressed. I was wearing a shirt and pants.