Our interview series Icebreaker features artists talking about things—some strange, some amusing, some meaningful—that just might reveal their true selves. This edition features big-voiced Brooklyn indie rocker Mitski, whose new album Puberty 2 is out this week via Dead Oceans.
What is a moment in your life when you felt like a complete idiot?
Every day is a fucking humiliation. But what was really humiliating was college, when I still didn’t quite understand how young people had sex and dated. So I did everything wrong. I was just flailing. I lived abroad most of my life, in insular international communities. But [college] was the first time I came to the U.S., where there are very specific views on what is attractive and what the unspoken dating rules are. Oftentimes I wouldn’t get that something was just a hook-up—or I would be expecting a hook-up and realize they weren’t into that.
What is a moment when you felt like the smartest person on earth?
I feel like the smartest person on earth every single day, too. I’m so smart. I am good at doing math really quickly in my head. Seventh grade was the first year I went to an English-speaking school—before that I went to Japanese speaking schools. I didn’t really speak English that well, so nobody took me seriously. And then one time in math class, I did this algebra equation in my head, and explained the steps as I was going along, and gave them the answers. After that, the math teacher took me seriously.
Which fictional character would you want to be most?
San in Princess Mononoke. She’s hardy, very determined, and fiercely loving. She can also run really fast and ride wolves. So that’s cool.
What do you think is the worst aspect of modern music culture?
The cult of personality is really exhausting. I understand that, because there are so many musicians, you have to make artists into brands, but I sometimes feel like I have to be some kind of non-human icon in order for people to listen to my music. In terms of bigger artists, a lot of them work really hard and make great music so I don’t have any qualms with that, but there’s also a lot of unquestioned reverence. It’s sad to me as a musician who loves music that a lot of it isn’t about music. It’s always been that way, but it makes me tired.
I’ve been very careful to always make clear that I am a real person. That’s why I’m on social media a lot. I like that I can speak for myself and make sure people know I’m ugly sometimes. My biggest fear is that I will recklessly be made out to be a mythical god by the press, and then one day, it will come out that I am actually just a regular person—and people will feel resentment. You see that in Jennifer Lawrence or Anne Hathaway—one minute everyone loves them, and then the next minute it just becomes trendy to hate them. That scares me so much.
What is the most recent song you heard that made you believe in the power of music?
“Transfigured Night” by [Austrian composer] Arnold Schönberg. I hate that I’m bringing up Schönberg, because it just makes me out to be such an asshole—but the thing about classical music is that it oftentimes doesn’t rely on words or the charisma of the composer. So the music has to be truly, purely emotional.
What are you most self-conscious about?
I care a lot that people don’t hear me peeing or pooping in a public bathroom.
If you could be in any band ever, which one would you choose?
Nine Inch Nails, years ago. Something about them is so aggressive, but in a more thoughtful, sexual way than other bands in that genre. I’ve never even been to a Nine Inch Nails show, but I feel like playing that kind of music onstage would be so fun.
What is the last TV show that you binged?
“UnReal.” It’s like a fictional, behind-the-scenes version of “The Bachelor”—how it really works, how they coerce the cast members into doing things. It’s so evil and twisted—but relatable. I love it. I literally watched it in a weekend. It was really unhealthy.
What is the best advice anyone has ever given you?
One time, when I was freaking out about something that was, in retrospect, so tiny, my manager asked me whether it would matter in five years. I was like, “No, it wouldn’t.” So every time I get anxious or a little panicky about something, I just think of that.
What is a band that you love that nobody would suspect given your own music?
My biggest hero is M.I.A. In seventh grade, I was in Japan, bored waiting for somebody, and I went into a music store and saw M.I.A.’s first album and was like, This looks cool. I didn’t even listen to it first, I just bought it. And then I fell in love with her. She’s saved me so many times. She is a true trailblazer. She always seems to do exactly as she pleases. Her popularity is proof that there are people out there—like me—who feel like they understand what she’s saying. That has always been an inspiration for me.
What’s the biggest musical risk you have ever taken?
Just believing that I can make music, and then going out and having the gall to do it, and being like, “Listen to me!” I make a big career risk every day, because I am physically creating my own job out of thin air. And then, if it doesn't work, I have nothing.
Do you like gambling?
No! My whole career is a giant gamble—I’m not going to do even more for pleasure.
