As long as where out in the sun. Take me out, baby.

how it feels bc this song describes the relationship me and my dad have.

"Can't afford to buy my food." but for me it's "Can't afford to eat my food."

spotify wrapped better be writing this down

liked songs but really really liked songs i will never get tired of

cover of a song from mitski's Retired from Sad, New Career in Business! with a terrible midi instrumental made by yours truly :)

Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart

Mitski - Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart - live

mitski - liquid smooth

No Way Back Home

I'm Sorry...

Leaving Tonight

Currents

The Less I Know The Better

Puberty 2

My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars

Bury Me At Makeout Creek

Drunk Walk Home

Last Words of a Shooting Star

Jobless Monday

Be the Cowboy

Why Didn't You Stop Me?

Papa Cremp

Teenage Girl

Bag Of Bones - Mitski

Song I recorded and mixed from Mitski's album "LUSH". Mastered by Randy Merrill.

http://mitski.bandcamp.com

Mitski - Eric

Animal Kingdom: Comet

Boys Will Be Bugs

Tallahassee

No Children

Sometimes, Mitski feels life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what’s truly hers, what can’t be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. “The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people,” she says. “I wish I could leave behind all the love I have after I die, so I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I’ve created onto other people.” She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will shine love long after she’s gone. That’s precisely how it feels: like a love that’s haunting the land.

“This is my most American album,” she says. The music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. Sonically Mitski’s most epic and wise album, the songs introduce wounds and then actively heal them. Here, love is time-traveling to bless our tender days, like light from a distant star.

It's full of the ache of the grown-up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It’s a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything and everyone is crying out in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning and then rejecting us. To love this place, this earth, this America, this body takes work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Jobless Monday

Mitski

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