Japanese Breakfast – For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) Review

At a time when the popular route is to choose bombastic, loud-sounding thrills and wild-eyed aesthetics, it is refreshing to see how understated Japanese Breakfast can be with her latest album. For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) certainly caters to a typecast set of stereotypes in its title, but we cannot judge an album before we have laid in the dark and listened in. Stripped-back, indie folk sounds are nothing surprising, but they are when countering the works preceding it. Japanese Breakfast takes a slower turn on For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women). It is in this melancholic tone, in the softer flourishes which appear when driven by acoustic instrumentals, which make all the difference to her imagery and messages.  

Where it may take on the same tones as all those other singer-songwriters, the heart and earnestness to the topic at hand is what makes the difference. Japanese Breakfast finds real joy in the lighter tones and darker instances heard in her songwriting, a fine blur indeed which For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) makes good on. Swee string work on Orlando in Love is the perfect song to piece into your summer playlist. For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) is a wonderful project, one of those you can break into little pieces for whatever mood strikes, but its ongoing sincerity is the tie between it all. There is no real transition between Orlando in Love and Honey Water. There does not need to be. Snippets of life and experience are what guides Japanese Breakfast here, pangs of pain in the face of faithlessness, summery hopes with no frills preceding it. These are the rapid-fire emotional changes which affect us, put to song and performed with the promise of better times ahead.  

Honey Water has those gut-wrenching production values Japanese Breakfast continues to build brilliantly. A flagbearer for the quality found within. Where many albums of the last few years detail the troubles of personal life and how to deal with them, Japanese Breakfast offers a soothing place where you can take time to heal. Instrumentally rich moments on songs like Mega Circuit shine a light on the thrilling production, the niche parts of intimacy we may forget about are thrown into the spotlight. Part of the charm is how Japanese Breakfast writes of intimacy. It may follow the usual singer-songwriter, soft-spoken style, but the lyrical assertions, and the use of sex not just as a plain encounter but a multi-layered, situational experience, is a tremendous evolution for the genre. It has happened elsewhere already, but Japanese Breakfast is bringing a sense of power to the common denominations of indie-pop. 

When you spend so long traipsing through releases, hoovering up what is on offer and trying, always, to find something new, the smaller details become crucial. For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) may be typecast as singer-songwriters servicing those sad nights in bed, but Japanese Breakfast offers some of the very best, should it be associated with such a broad range. Leonard Cohen offered much the same by that standard, and Japanese Breakfast has an acoustic reliance embedded in it, a handful of string sections, which remind of the legendary songwriter. Leda is a standout moment, one of those songs that cements Japanese Breakfast not just as some relatable star but as a musician with depth, with no fear of their own fear. Just take a listen to Men at Bars for that furthered sense, the soft twangs of folk and the learned experiences of humiliating encounters. For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) is tinged by tragedy but runs as a list of life lessons we would do well to listen to.