Rising star Mitski compelling in magnetic Colectivo show
Mitski offered a polite little wave as she casually walked across the stage at the Back Room at Colectivo Coffee Wednesday night. Classical chamber music played through the speakers. The music stopped, and the sold-out crowd of 300, anticipating the first live song, fell into a stunning hush.
The moment was an apt preview of the hour yet to unfold. But there were two words written on Mitski’s shirt that seemed to conflict with the first impression, but also foreshadowed what was in store.
The shirt read, “She Shreds.” That’s Mitski (full name Mitski Miyawaki) in a nutshell. A 27-year-old native of Japan raised and based in New York, she’s both a singer-songwriter who earns awed reverence with illuminating lyrics and a rugged rockband leader eager to rattle some eardrums.
That compelling combination has made Mitski a critical favorite, with her latest album, 2016’s “Puberty 2,” landing on scores of year-end lists. Except, as powerful as “Puberty 2” is, Mitski live Wednesday was the superior experience.
A key reason: Her lyrics were, for the most part, much clearer to understand in concert than on the album — and Mitski has written some killer lines, clearly crafted from a personal place, but still ambiguous enough to fit into the lives of strangers.
“Puberty 2” opener “Happy,” for instance, began like a lullaby — but there was an incessant, intentional clicking that threw the mood off balance. And the lyrics, sung with icy detachment, were especially dark, with Mitski defining happiness as a lover, who takes advantage of her vulnerability and naivety.
That rich mix of emotions is a consistent trademark of Mitski’s songwriting.
“In the rearview mirror/I saw the setting sun on your neck,” Mitski sang at the start of “Once More To See You” — a gorgeous image and a tragic metaphor for a love that’s unattainable. During “A Burning Hill,” Mitski conveyed composure with her white button-down shirt; “I can at least be neat/ Walk out and be seen as clean,” she sang Wednesday.
But it’s a facade for her loneliness and self-destruction: “I think I am finally worn,” she sang Wednesday. “And I am the fire and I am the forest.”
“Hill” kicked off a four-song streak of solo acoustic performances, the format enhancing the intimacy of her words.
But, true to her shirt’s mission statement, Mitski still managed to shred on acoustic guitar for “My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars,” conveying the raw sentiment of youth, from wide-eyed fantasy (”I wanna see the whole world”) to histrionics (”Would you kill me, Jerusalem”).
The three-piece backing band (with Mitski on bass much of the night) set the perfect tone for “Townie,” an unflinching garage rock ode to autonomy, with Mitski vowing not to “be what my Daddy wants me to be” and yearning for “a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony.”
And the band reserved the night’s most aggressive performance for the end with “Drunk Walk Home,” as Mitski’s elegant voice, trailing booming drums and smoldering guitar, erupted in a banshee-like scream.
“I was one of those girls people called intense,” Mitski said at one point Wednesday. “But it got me here.”
And it will take her much farther.