This past Friday, March 21, Japanese Breakfast released their fourth studio album, “For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women).” Japanese Breakfast is fronted by Michelle Zauner, an accomplished indie pop singer-songwriter as well as a New York Times bestselling author. She is quite famous for her memoir “Crying in H-Mart,” which launched her writing career. Needless to say, Zauner is quite a creative and artistic person. Her newest album further showcases her creative talent through lyrical storytelling, absurdist usage of instruments and soft breathy vocals.  

While I was listening to “Melancholy Brunettes,” I realized there was a new underlying component much stronger in this album than any of her others—a strong sense of nostalgia, an almost return to the emotions associated with childhood. This album sounds quieter, more subdued than Zauner’s previous ventures, perhaps even melancholic. “Melancholy Brunettes” is a clear departure from her 2021 album “Jubilee,” which was generally much louder and upbeat. Despite the slower and slightly more depressing nature of this album, there is still much happiness to be found in its lyrical storytelling. This storytelling is just more combined with elements of melancholia and sadness than her previous work. After I listened to all 10 tracks back to back, I did not feel sad necessarily but instead more introspective. While there were certainly some lyrics that made me feel melancholic, at the end of my listening session I was in a much more contemplative state than before, not a sad one. “Melancholy Brunettes” highlights Zauner’s talent because it is an objectively sad album—the word “Melancholy” is what the title starts with—but she leaves the listener feeling a different emotion by the end of it. I feel like I am being emotionally gaslighted by her music, but I am not mad about it, by any means. 

Japanese Breakfast is well known among their fans for using uncommon instruments. In “Melancholy Brunettes,” Zauner used a gamelan, sarod, celesta, a vintage church organ, windchimes, xylophones and a steel guitar. I had to look up the first three, having never even heard of these instruments before. But she incorporates their distinctive and unique sounds into her songs quite well. The overall effect is a sort of dreamy, atmospheric landscape, which contributes to the introspective nature and feelings I associate with this album. Instruments such as the windchimes and xylophones also remind me of my own childhood—I actually think my kindergarten classroom had a big xylophone—and I am curious if that was her intention by including these instruments, which normally are not featured on major studio albums. Their inclusion definitely adds to the feelings of nostalgia that I associated with this record. 

Zauner is a talented singer, songwriter and producer, so I was going into this album assuming that she would impress me again. But there is always this element of surprise that she consistently manages to bring to her music that astounds me, especially when it is so easy for other artists to fall into old patterns with their respective sounds. I never expected “Jubilee” to sound as happy as it did, nor for “Melancholy Brunettes” to sound as contemplative as it does. Japanese Breakfast always keeps their listeners on their collective toes, wondering what mood her next project will bring. And that’s honestly remarkable in the music landscape we live in. The album is a great listen for anyone who wants to feel confused about their emotions for half an hour and then contemplative for the next several hours—and also for strange instrument enthusiasts.