Nothing Happens, Everything Changes: Experiencing Mitski’s Latest Album
“Compared to albums like “Puberty 2” and “Bury Me At Makeout Creek”, this project may not be her most consistent, but it stands out for its conceptual ambition. In the end, it reinforces what makes Mitski such a compelling artist to me, her willingness to confront uncomfortable truths and transform them into something hauntingly beautiful.”
I’ve always found Mitski to be a somewhat enigmatic artist. I first remember hearing her song “Washing Machine Heart” back in middle school, at a time when my music taste was mostly limited to the Top 40 tracks my parents played on the radio. During music class, I was just beginning to learn guitar with very little experience when my teacher introduced a set of songs for us to practice, popular tracks like “Zombie” by The Cranberries, “Sunflower” by Post Malone and Swae Lee, and “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana. Then there was “Washing Machine Heart”. I remember being surprised, I had never heard of it before.
Going in without any expectation, I was immediately struck by its slightly abrasive, synth-driven sound and distinctive vocals. It quickly became one of my favorites, both to play and to listen to, largely because of its metallic, almost mechanical atmosphere.
After middle school, as I transitioned into high school, I lost touch with Mitski’s music. That once-favorite song faded from memory, and I returned to listening mostly to mainstream hits. That changed during my sophomore year, when I started using TikTok more frequently. Through the platform, I began discovering music that resonated with me on a much deeper emotional level, especially when paired with edits of media I already knew. Songs like “Christmas Kids” by Roar, “Bitter Sweet Symphony” by The Verve, and "Fine” by Lemon Demon stood out to me and remain emotionally impactful.
As I explored more indie music, I eventually rediscovered “Washing Machine Heart.” Hearing it again after so long brought an unexpected sense of nostalgia and euphoria. The song felt timeless, something I could return to without ever growing tired of it. From there, I began diving deeper into Mitski’s discography, and I quickly became a fan. Tracks like “I Bet on Losing Dogs”, “Francis Forever”, and “Remember My Name” soon became some of my all-time favorites.
So when Mitski announced her new album, “Nothing’s About to Happen to Me”, I was immediately interested. Given her ability to craft emotionally dense and thought-provoking music, I was curious to see how her sound and songwriting would evolve. In this review, I plan to explore the album’s concept, centered on a reclusive woman living in a neglected home, where she experiences freedom inside but is deviant outside. I will be sharing my thoughts on each track and comparing it to her previous work to determine how it stands within her discography.
The opening track, “In a Lake”, begins with her quiet admission that she’d “never live in a small town,” immediately setting a tone of distance and isolation. Gentle folk instrumentation, acoustic guitar, piano, and orchestral strings blend with soft vocals. As the chorus arrives, the violin and accordion swell, lifting the track into something unexpectedly catchy still deeply reflective. This transition captures the tension between escape and uncertainty. There’s a quiet desperation in her voice, as if she’s searching for a place where she can finally feel at ease. She has “tried very hard to be good” and yet has “made too many mistakes” in this unfamiliar place.
Toward the end, the song completely shifts. The soft, intimate opening gives way to a brighter, almost overwhelming sound as the crescendo builds. The accordion and banjo become more present, creating a sense of movement, like driving through a new city, surrounded by unfamiliar noise and energy. This moment feels alive, almost chaotic, but freeing. It’s a release. The honking cars and layered sounds amplify that feeling of stepping into anonymity, and it’s easily the most striking part of the song. The drums hit harder, the rhythm pulses with energy, and everything comes together in a way that feels both nostalgic and exhilarating, like standing in the middle of Times Square, completely lost but somehow exactly where you need to be.
The second track, “Where’s My Phone”, serves as a bold introduction to the album’s release and what an astounding way to get an audience hyped. It wastes no time grabbing attention. Loud, jagged guitars clash with sweeping orchestral elements, creating chaos. The song captures the overwhelming pressure of constant connection, the anxiety of never being able to fully disconnect from the outside world. Her lyrics spiral with panic and helplessness, while distorted vocals and heavy effects mirror the emotional noise.
As the track builds, it becomes more frantic with layered vocals that feel like a crowd closing in. Everything collides, the instruments, the vocals, the distortion, forming a messy, claustrophobic wall of sound that becomes overwhelming in an intentional way. It’s a kind of song that closes in around you and stays with you long after it’s over.
“Cats” is a short, tender track that carries a quiet emotional weight. It feels comforting and heartbreaking at the same time, capturing the ache of longing for a relationship that may not be what it seems. Mitski’s vocals sit at the center, soft and weary, giving the song a grounded, almost fragile presence. With its minimal arrangement, just bass, and guitar, the track feels intimate, like a confession spoken in a hushed room. That simplicity draws attention to the vulnerability in her voice.
The image of the two cats becomes a symbol of stability and companionship. Yet beneath that comfort is something more unsettling. The song explores a deep dependence on another person, to the point where she seems to lose herself. The narrator clings to this connection, even as it becomes consuming.
“If I Leave” shifts the album’s tone in an interesting way. As the third single, it stood out immediately, especially compared to “Where’s My Phone”. The song leans into a more minimalist sound featuring the least instrumentation, relying mainly on guitar, bass, and drums to fill the atmosphere. It builds a steady intensity, a clear sense of momentum, like something slowly unraveling.
Its minimal arrangement allows the emotional weight to take center stage, culminating in a powerful bridge. The lyrics reveal a deep emotional reliance on her partner, portraying them as the only person who truly understands her. There’s a quiet desperation in that belief, as if leaving would mean losing the one place where she feels seen. The line “Nobody else could see me [q]uite a clearly as you” captures both the comfort and the danger of placing your entire sense of being in someone else’s hands.
“Dead Women” stands out in an already stunning project. Its melancholic melody, built from breathy organ chords, swelling strings, and soft synthesizers, creates a somber, cinematic atmosphere. The “do-do-do-do” moments in the chorus add an unexpected layer of catchiness, balancing the heaviness of the song with something strangely memorable. Mirski’s vocal delivery feels both restrained and deeply expressive, allowing the weight of the lyrics to settle in.
Lyrically, the song is devastating. It explores the loss of agency and autonomy, touching on the unsettling way society often only recognizes a woman’s worth after she’s gone. There is a quiet anger beneath the sadness. It captures a kind of frustration that lingers long after the song ends.
“Instead of Here” paints a portrait of isolation that feels almost weightless at first. The airy, delicate instrumentation creates stillness, but beneath it is a quiet unraveling. Mitski sings about wanting to escape, to disappear into the forest, to become something unrecognizable, something free from the weight of being seen. There’s a sense of yearning not just to leave a place, but to leave herself behind.
The imagery is striking, especially the idea of “death crouching beside [them],” which adds a darkness to the track. Yet the narrator doesn’t feel entirely powerless being aware of her pain. Still, the song feels subdued musically. Other than that piano section in the middle of the song, It sounds way too similar to the previous track “Cats”.
“I’ll Change For You,” the album’s second single, stands out as one of its strongest moments and possibly my favorite. Its jazz-infused bossa nova sound, paired with one of Mitski’s most compelling vocal performances, creates something truly beautiful. The song feels raw and intimate, creating a warm yet melancholic atmosphere, allowing Mitski’s vocals to shine. Throughout this track and album as a whole, she seems to be fighting against being overtaken by despair, replaying happy distant memories in an attempt to hold onto something that’s already slipping away. In doing so, she’s inviting listeners to sit with their own sadness.
The song grips me in a way few others can, embedding itself deeply and refusing to let go. Her delivery underscores a quiet desperation to win back a lost partner, revealing how far someone might be willing to go for love. The lyrics capture a longing so intense that the narrator is willing to reshape themselves entirely to reconnect. It’s a haunting portrait of love at its most fragile, where devotion begins to blur into self-erasure.
“Rules” by Mitski has always been a conflicting song for me. I really enjoy the instrumental break, especially the fugal horn that comes in, but I can’t stand the repetitive chorus, particularly the “one, two, one two, one” line. It’s irritating and disrupts the flow of the song, especially since the track ends on it. There’s so much potential here; the track feels like it could've been elevated further with a great chorus. However even with that, Mitski’s vocals are incredible as always, and the verses remain engaging.
The verses in particular carry a powerful message about the internal rules and expectations people impose on themselves in relationships, making them both relatable and emotionally impactful. Lines like “she will have a new haircut” and “be somebody else” reflect the tension between the desire for approval and the cost of losing oneself. This theme reminds me of “Me and My Husband” from “Be the Cowboy”, and whether or not the connection was intentional, it feels like a meaningful parallel.
“That White Cat” is a track that genuinely makes me laugh. Mitski describes a neighborhood white cat casually marking her home and, by cat logic, claiming it as his own. Throughout the song, she details everything she’s willing to do for the cat and the other animals on her property. It creates that sense that she’s being used for their benefit, and because she gives in so easily, she ends up overworked, almost like people pleaser taken to an extreme. The production complements her vocals really well, and the repetitive “ya-ya” in the chorus feels reminiscent of her earlier use of onomatopoeic sounds. The cat’s effortless takeover of her home can also be read symbolically, reflecting how in today’s consumer driven world, possessions, stability, and even personal achievements can feel temporary or controlled by forces beyond us.
In contrast, “Charon’s Obol” shifts focus from cats to dogs, so there’s something here for everyone. That said, it’s a more stripped down, folk leaning track that I’ve never fully connected with. The repeated “ooh” vocals feel a bit overdone to me, and compared to the rest of the album, the instrumentation and vocal performance come across as weaker. Still, the song’s atmosphere is undeniably haunting, carrying a funereal tone that fits its themes of mortality. Lyrically, though, it might be one of the most compelling tracks on the album. The title references Charon, the ferryman of the underworld in Greek mythology, who transports souls across the river Styx in exchange for an obol. In the song, the narrator moves into a house marked by tragedy, where the lingering presence of deceased girls is symbolized through the dogs she senses. These dogs embody memory and unresolved grief, and her nightly act of feeding them becomes a ritual of care and remembrance. The idea of becoming the “token coin in the mouth” suggests a willingness to confront and transform that grief, accepting the emotional weight tied to the space.
The closing track, “Lightning,” feels like a perfect ending. The bridge is especially amazing, with ethereal guitars and crisp, driving drums that elevate the entire song. Lyrically, it centers on rebirth and transformation, lines like “We’ve been waiting to be born again” and “When I die, could I come back as the rain?” express a desire to experience life from a new perspective. Other lines, such as “If I’m dark, all the better to reflect the moonlight” and “if I mourn, all the better to behold the sunrise,” suggest that embracing darker emotions can deepen one’s appreciation for beauty and light. The narrator hearing “the song of my death” and calling for lightning and thunder, points toward an acceptance of life’s cycles and their inherent meaning. It captures the feeling of surrendering to exhaustion while finding peace in that surrender, an incredibly fitting and powerful conclusion.
Ultimately, “Nothing’s About to Happen to Me” feels like a deeply introspective and emotionally layered addition to Mitski’s discography. Through the concept of a reclusive woman navigating both freedom and isolation, the album explores themes of identity, dependence, and transformation with striking honesty. While some tracks feel less distinct, the album succeeds in creating a cohesive narrative, that is carried by Mitski's expressive vocals and sharp lyricism. It sits in the middle of her catalog. Songs like “I’ll Change For You,” “Dead Women,” and “Lightning” highlight her ability to capture vulnerability in a way that feels both intimate and universal. Compared to albums like “Puberty 2” and “Bury Me At Makeout Creek”, this project may not be her most consistent, but it stands out for its conceptual ambition. In the end, it reinforces what makes Mitski such a compelling artist to me, her willingness to confront uncomfortable truths and transform them into something hauntingly beautiful.
Tracklist Ranking:
In a Lake (9/10)
Where’s My Phone (8.5/10)
Cats (7/10)
If I Leave (8.5/10)
Dead Women (8.5/10)
Instead of Here (6/10)
I’ll Change for You (9.5/10)
Rules (5.5/10)
That White Cat (8/10)
Charon’s Obol (6/10)
Lightning (9.5/10)
Final Score: 7.8/10 (Great to Amazing)
Mitski’s Album Ranking:
Bury Me At Makeout Creek
Puberty 2
The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We
Nothing’s About to Happen to Me
Lush
Be the Cowboy
Retired from Sad, New Career in Business
Laurel Hell