The time I went to see Japanese Breakfast by myself

After receiving what must have been a dozen or so texts from Japanese Breakfast  telling me to buy tickets to their Boston show over the course of two months – I finally bit the bullet. And man did my teeth crack.

Sans $70 in my bank account – what many may call a steal for an MGM show  – I arrived at the venue all by lonesome. Tired, beaten, and stressed by moving, finals, and work, I fully expected to leave halfway through the show – barely making it at all.

The truth is, I only went because Michelle Zauner is kind of my idol - in a way.

I laud the Japanese Breakfast frontwoman for her eccentricity and honesty with her art - whether it's music or writing. Before listening to “Boyish,” and when I still lived in a strung out Georgia suburb, I picked up Crying at H-Mart at my local Barnes and Noble. The memoir made me cry, it made me hungry, and it made me want to hug my mother.  And when I did listen to “Boyish,” and then all of Soft Sounds,  I transcended. 

I’ve been following the band for years now. So when the Philly outfit released their newest album, For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), I was sat. When they announced their tour, I was hesitant to purchase a ticket – not really sure where I stood on the album’s songs and themes. But I will reiterate – Michelle Zauner is my idol. And I had to see her. 

I listened to their 2025 album a few weeks ago when I edited a review of it for the campus magazine I’m a part of. A lot of the Melancholy songs toe the line between humor, sometimes satire, and realism.  All of the Greek and Roman references seem too intentional - like a nudge at those who take themselves too seriously. After every “Orlando In Love” is a “Honey Water” and following every “Mega Circuit,” is a “Little Girl.” It’s a balance between the joy and sadness that the band often plays with.

The setlist, therefore, makes sense, beginning light and whimsical with the glittering instrumentals of “Here is Someone,” later touching on the more profound and memorable choruses from the Soft Sounds from Another Planet album, then bringing the energy up with orchestral and pop sounds from Jubilee.

Zauner opened with the short, but sweet “Here is Someone,” kicking into the acoustic melody of “Orlando in Love,” the pulsing snares akin to the beat of a marching band. The song is cheesier than most Japanese Breakfast songs, not being helped by its drawn out mythological lyrics telling tales of “milky” oceans and references to Botticelli’s Venus. Whether or not the cheesiness is purposeful  – I don’t know. Either way, I felt a bit bored, but the swell of the strings kept me intrigued. 

“Honey Water,” with its Slowdive-esque instrumentals was much more my speed. Slightly less dissonant than a classic dreampop track, but equally as emotionally frigid, “Honey Water” washes over the audience and wakes it up with a shiver. The repeating chorus is ghostly, “So it goes / I don’t mind,” a whispered promise — a hidden lie.  

Soft Sounds from Another Planet, the band’s 2017 record, takes over the setlist with “Road Head,” “Boyish,” and “The Body is a Blade.” The studio recording of “Road Head” sounds like insults gritted out through clenched teeth - almost like we weren’t supposed to hear them. In her performance, however, Zauner’s soft, but discernable lyrics serve a mean gut punch.

“Boyish,” a crowd favorite, causes MGM Music Hall to fill with the crooning voices of fans singing Zauner’s ever-relatable lyrics of wanting someone, while they “want something more beautiful.”

I don’t want to take about “Men in Bars,” a Melancholy track and the next on the set list. Why? Because I hate that song. Mini rant: Men in Bars” is already a Japanese Breakfast song - found on Zauner and Ryan Galloway’s project pop songs 2020 under the name “Ballad 0” – that I also don’t like. Honestly, “Ballad 0” sounds like a robot’s ode to whoever. On the 2025 record, Zauner’s voice clashes with Jeff Bridges on the studio recording in a far too cheesy track that belongs in an animated Disney movie – Hercules, maybe. Seriously. 

“Leda’s” soft guitar, on the other hand, is subtle and gorgeous. Zauner’s voice is slightly pitchy on this track, but live, it works. The audience doesn’t need to know the tragic story behind the name Leda – the music communicates it all. 

The song “Mega Circuit,” when sung, becomes indistinguishable from the right-wing “MAGA circus.” It’s an ode to the misogynist incels whose anger becomes the subject of fascination. We’ve of course seen it in Adolescence, and how the red-pilled narrative is destroying the psyche of young boys.

(I’ll take any excuse to talk about this show.)

However, while Adolescence deals with this subject matter from a grounded, poignant perspective, Zauner is playful and taunting. She pokes fun, calls names – see “incel eunuchs” – and promises sweet, sweet music. We don’t take the lyrics seriously as Zauner floats her way through the song, backed by a country-fied pop instrumentals that don’t exactly make me want to sqaure dance, but add a more folky sound. The closing chorus, which warns about the possibility of suffering - of retaliation when the boys we try to fix threaten violence - is a reminder of a very real anger that victimizes women. 

“Mega Circuit” and “Little Girl” have something very important in common to say:  males and ATVs are a violent combination. While the former serves up the Pavement special of making fun of macho-men and their silly pastimes, “Little Girl” is sweet in the way it breaks your heart.

The latter half of the show brings about the jaunty, symphonic, and upbeat character of Jubilee. Similar to how Melancholy is caught between satire and realism, Japanese Breakfast’s 2021 record Jubilee tricks listeners - at one moment joyous and hopeful, the next, gruesome. 

The measured snares and dreamy synth of “Side Tackle” introduce this second half, with “Kokomo” on its heals. Here, Zauner’s voice takes on a lazy quality typical of 2000s indie stars. Her vowels stretch into a whine as she sings an ode to the childish sentimentalities called young love. “Kokomo” is one of my favorites from Zauner (I love a whine), as she sings from the perspective of those we leave behind in the pursuit of greater things. 

Zauner’s voice becomes more needle-y with the chamber-pop track, “Posing in Bondage,” then dropping into a lower-register as she breathes out the chorus, “Closeness/ Proximity/ I needed bondage.”

“Paprika” fades into the hall slowly, unsuspecting the audience before evolving into an orchestra of snares and bright synth sounds, further elevated with the first note from the horns. Zauner’s voice is pleading – a cry. I love this song. Her stellar vocals we saw on SNL did her justice.

Zauner only sings one song from her first EP, Psychopomp, released in 2016, pre-Crying in H-Mart and soon following her mother’s passing. It’s unsurprising when artists choose to leave their older work out of their setlist. So when they choose to bring a singular almost decade-old track to the stage, I always ask myself why. Maybe it’s their favorite off that album. Maybe it’s their restrictive management. Or, if the song is “The Woman that Loved You,” it’s a way of transitioning from the melancholic to the joyous.

The encore is “Diving Woman.” To be completely unprofessional in this personal blog (duh that’s the whole point), this song fucking rocks. A blend of the melancholic, the upbeat, and the mythological, “Diving Woman,” despite being from the band’s earliest work, builds a sturdy bridge across their four records for listeners to skip down. The synth is there, the dissonant guitar, the sci-fi themes that made Japanese Breakfast stand out since their origins. And Zauner, with her unfiltered truths and whispered, violent lyrics, is worn out and electric. 

At this point in the concert, I’m all splayed out chanting “We’ll have it all,” absolutely delirious.  

Listen to For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) on Spotify - because it’s way better than Apple Music.