There come times when you funnel so much energy and emotion into something that you need a little break.
Michelle Zauner of Japanese Breakfast has put it all out there for something like 10+ years, in sounds ranging from emo, to indie pop, to shoegaze (along with, notably, written word). Japanese Breakfast’s first three “studio” albums were co-written by grief. Zauner’s mother died in 2014, and her subsequent musical expressions began as the chaotic, lofi cries of Psychopomp. From there, things only got more polished and pointed. Soft Sounds from Another Planet is a slower, more drawn out exploration of the true sound of grief (Primarily, synth).
Jubilee is the natural end point of the themes of this particular trio: It feels, and sounds, like a huge explosion of energy. It's big, pop-powered, and orchestrated. But it’s also a mature exploration of many different sounds, with credits going to Alex G, Mannequin Pussy, and Björk (spiritually). It contains multitudes. It demonstrates that despite grief, (but never beyond it) there is joy.
All of this to say, Japanese Breakfast had one hell of an act to follow with their fourth. And, after a few years stewing on it, taking a little break, the band finally released For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) in March 2025 and I ate the whole album up and then drove into the desert to hear them play it live.
For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) revels in its gothic theming, and the concert’s set dressing matched: Deep, oceanic lighting on waves, crowned by a giant clam shell. Zauner entered like a curious little prince, a flickering oil lantern in hand. Then she sang the two beautiful opening tracks from within the clam. The romantic mood soon turned darker as the lights “cut out.” The album has a bit of a heavy streak of songs, much like Soft Sounds. “Honey Water” in particular, which the band played next, poses Zauner’s sweet vocals with a very sour melody. Electric guitars rage, while the lyrics tell the story of a girl pleading to a disloyal lover before submitting to apathy.
Zauner’s stage presence was, just like the band’s sound, highly variable. Her outfit’s tassels mimicked a jellyfish during the swaying dances, a weeping willow while lamenting from inside her shell, and a lightning storm during the more energetic jam sessions. The giant dissonance during “Honey Water” rippled electricity through her.
But anger mellows out, and the pressure goes from your chest to your head. The most tears the band got out of me were through “Kokomo, IN,” one of the cruelest ballads I’ve ever heard. It should be illegal how sad it makes me. There’s a very special kind of sad that comes from being apart from someone you love. Not just apart, but FAR apart. In the middle of some random place, where you wish with all your heart you could be in that very specific place.
In contrast to the haunting opening songs, “Mega Circuit” is a down and dirty jaunt screaming SEX: A key element of Japanese Breakfast which I’m surprised took this long to come up... In their discography, I can think of three songs that mention oral, and probably ~10 more with sex in general. “Mega Circuit” is something like a dimly lit romp around the city with a very problematic lover. It’s where For Melancholy Brunettes gets the most spiteful. It's awesome.
Zauner has said in interviews that part of Melancholy is sadness about events yet to transpire, and many of the remaining, unmentioned ballads concern this. She anxiously cries out, all of my ghosts are real. All of my ghosts are real.
Although I was enjoying the concert by now, I had a nagging feeling around the ~1 hour mark… In terms of performance, the rest of the band felt nowhere near Michelle Zauner’s level… To their credit, she’s one hell of a frontwoman to match. But the next turn brought silky, sexy “Slide Tackle” into my life, and assuaged my fears that I had paid to see Zauner, not Japanese Breakfast. The band went cuckoo. But this song could not have worked as well as it did if its final crescendo of unfettered joy wasn’t accompanied by her electricity. This moment cemented the concert as one of my all-time favorites.
Afterwards, an encore came and held me tight with bated breath before a stagehand returned carrying THE GONG. What I was waiting for. The only thing I had seen of JBrekkie’s live shows before this point, and perhaps my greatest takeaway from this one was THE GONG. Running around stage and hitting THE GONG, Zauner was obviously having the time of her life. I legitimately thought she was going to jump off the stage at one point. In that last act, she made me want to be a musician, if only to have as much fun as she was having.
The appropriately final performance, “Diving Woman,” was a real stunner. A shoegaze whine which left me quaking. Past the haunting aesthetics from the start of the concert, the band once again put it all out there for this song. No matter how different, or dissonant, the band’s many sounds were, what tied them all together was the courage to play big and loud. Across twenty songs and a couple hours (enough time to listen to all four of their albums), I came away thoroughly impressed.
If this is the new path for Japanese Breakfast, I’m glad they’re taking it. Uneasy jams and dissonant melodies speak to the complexities of the heart. Melancholy (grief’s plateau) may be here to stay, but this night proved there’s still much more emotion to be had. There’s joy in pain, grooves in noise, and a lantern in the dark.
I’m excited to look in at whatever eats at Michelle Zauner’s heart next, like some sad voyeur.
