Given this generation’s supposed fondness for oversharing, you’d think albums as open and unflinching as Mitski’s fourth would be ten-a-penny. But in fact it’s quite the opposite, and this New Yorker’s sheer candidness can make you wince: “I told him I’d do anything to have him stay with me,” she sings on the opening track, Happy, before a hollow tale unfolds of being discarded after sex. Bright Eyes-esque confessional folk, riot grrrl and the quiet-loud dynamics of the Pixies are all present, but Mitski updates these reference points with a modernist twist (Crack Baby and Once More to See You have something of St Vincent’s unsettling strangeness). This delicate experimentation, along with a melodic sensibility and the occasional shard of wit (you don’t call your album Puberty 2 without a sense of humour), save the record from being a wallow-fest. It may have been exhausting and painful to put down on record, but listening to it is anything but.
