It’s been almost four years since the release of Japanese Breakfast’s Grammy-nominated indie-darling record “Jubilee.” Despite the massive success and critical acclaim for that project, it wasn’t until March 21 that Japanese Breakfast released their new studio album.

Where “Jubilee” was lauded for its upbeat, joyous qualities, their new project, titled “For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women),” promises a return to the more somber sounds of the group’s earlier work.

Opening track “Here is Someone” showcases the instrumental lushness afforded by a professional studio and producer, as picked guitars meet strings, wind instruments and mallet percussion. Harp glissandos whirl through the air, simultaneously echoing and detuning, opening into expansive moments of shimmering bliss. 

These dreamy soundscapes are highly evocative of the work of South Korean folktronica artist Mid-Air Thief, and considering frontwoman Michelle Zauner’s year-long stay in Seoul in 2024, one might wonder if this aesthetic quality was inspired by similar musicians from her mother’s homeland.

Fortunately, these sonic indulgences don’t obscure Zauner’s lyricism. “Orlando in Love,” the album’s first single, draws upon Matteo Maria Boiardo’s poem “Orlando Innamorato” and Virginia Woolf’s “Orlando: a Biography” to tackle themes of gender and desire. 

Zauner’s words are sewn into melodies that feel unique to Japanese Breakfast; her voice reaches quickly for high points, then cascades down dreamily, singing: “As if the sea had bore her to be an ideal woman / She came to him from the water like Venus from a shell / Singing his name with all the sweetness of a mother / Leaving him breathless and then drowned.”

Similar literary easter eggs are scattered throughout the record, with references that range from Greek mythology in “Leda” to 20th century classics in “Magic Mountain”. These references to what Zauner calls the ‘incel canon umbrella’ thoughtfully explore the intersections between desire, grief, gender and bigotry over the course of the album.

Themes of gender are further explored on “Mega Circuit,” the project’s second single. Zauner criticizes the rise of toxic masculinity and its rooting in patriarchal gender roles and violence. She highlights younger audiences’ adoption of bigoted role models, claiming that their pain and vulnerability are exploited, causing them to turn to violent ideals of gendered society. 

She sings, “Well I better write my baby a shuffle good / Or he’s gonna make me suffer the way I should / Deep in the soft hearts of young boys so pissed off and jaded / Carrying dull prayers of old men cutting holier truths.”

Where the album’s first half is lush with dreamy orchestral instrumentation, tracks six through 10 feature a little more sonic variance. “Leda” is beautifully somber, with warbly acoustic guitar and swelling synth lines that cry with a delicate melancholy. 

But it is the next two tracks that provide the most intrigue. “Picture Window” introduces a country twang, pedal steel and all. The subsequent “Men in Bars” continues the band’s foray into this new sonic terrain, and notably features actor Jeff Bridges. 

Despite perhaps being indicative of the song’s title, Bridges’ vocals feel remarkably out of place on “Men in Bars,” especially when set against Zauner’s smooth, silky-sweet delivery. 

While it may be argued that this quality has some thematic significance, it still detracts from the overall listening experience; when two voices don’t work well together, they work against each other. This taints the two-singers-playing-two-characters trope, which immediately reads as played-out and stale. 

Furthermore, the continued dive into a country sound is fruitless; unlike the previous track, it does little to expand upon the overarching sound of the record. The country piano ballad is accentuated with dreamy, shimmering reverb, but this isn’t enough to make the track fit within the broader context of the album. To put it simply, “Men in Bars” just does not work.

Thankfully, the last few tracks return to the delightfully lush sound of the first half of the record, culminating with “Magic Mountain,” where acoustic guitars and strings harken back to the album’s opener, giving the project a satisfying sense of finality.

At its high points, “For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)” is undoubtedly dazzling. Blake Mills’ production is stellar, pushing the group to embrace some more unfamiliar sonic terrain. But at moments, this experimentation falls flat; the country sounds feel like detours instead of embellishments, and space for deeper exploration of Zauner’s lyrical themes is often pushed aside in favor of instrumental indulgence. 

While it may not live up to the indie pop perfection of “Jubilee,” “For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)” is a great return to the limelight after four years, reiterating Japanese Breakfast’s veteran status as creators of consistently exciting, beautiful and emotional pop music.