Words by Ralf Jun Tilasa | Photos by Lexie Alley
Neither am I a fan nor an avid listener of Mitski before I had stepped my feet at the SM Mall of Asia Arena. I felt estranged in that place. I was there as an intern wearing a media pass who had only gotten the chance to experience her first-ever concert in the Philippines. Never did I imagine that when I stepped outside the venue, I had to find myself again as I somehow felt that everything in me had been ripped apart.
Regardless of what I feel, I always find ways to connect with music with my playlist on loop and my headphones on. Despite the different playlists you can find on my Music app, I do not listen to a wide array of music genres as I caged myself only to rhythm and blues (R&B) and bedroom pop.
Discovering new songs and artists through different social media platforms is nothing new to me. Admittedly, I have come across good songs on Tiktok. One of which is entitled, My Love Mine All Mine, a track which became a massive hit that appeared on my For You Page (FYP) all the time. It was at that moment I came across the name Mitski. It was a song that defined a milestone in her career as she secured her first appearance on the Billboard Hot 100.
It was good. But, it was not good enough for me to delve deeper into the artist’s background until Nash and I were assigned to cover her Nothing’s About to Happen to Me concert in Manila.
The concert then came. The venue was cold. I could see a few lights illuminating the venue as I looked around the concert grounds. I was surrounded by fans whose names I do not even know. I heard the crowd whispers hoping that Mitski would sing their favorite songs, to which at all, I am unfamiliar with. I was there shivering with embarrassment, not knowing any songs from her except that one song I merely found on TikTok. It crawled through the back of my spine. But I was there; so, I might enjoy the concert as well.
I was sitting far from the stage, but my eyes were looking at it. There were a few silhouettes. Slowly, a soft voice travelled through the atmosphere. It was the introduction, a mark that the show had already started. Gradually, the stage lit up, there I saw chairs, tables, and film sequences. To me, everything looked like a theatrical performance.
There was a girl at the center of the stage, wearing a Filipiniana-inspired dress with plaid sleeves emerging from beneath the garment complemented by bright red stockings.
I hope it’s Mitski: And yes! It was definitely Mitski.
So then the crowd roared when she opened her concert with In a Lake, a track from her album Nothing’s About to Happen To Me. I could sense the joy bursting out from their hearts as their ears were drawn to the sound of her angelic voice while they set their gazes upon the angel in front of them.
I, on the other hand, had my eyes staring at the phone while my fingers hurried across the keyboard as I relied on my Notes app to keep track of the songs in the setlist.
I had the momentum of taking notes, but it was lost when she played the songs Where’s My Phone? and I Bet on Losing Dogs. I can feel my feet tapping the ground as if it wanted to follow the beat of the songs. My lips did move an inch, and I mumbled as if I knew the song.
Following a run of songs, Mitski had paused to speak to the crowd: “I thought I was alone, and it turned out I wasn’t because… you understand.”
These exact words have resonated with me. It found ways to rip my rib cage apart that eventually I stopped moving for a second. I couldn’t feel my muscles. How can someone whom I have known for an hour could cut through me? Those words have cut deeply.
Maybe, it was because I could relate. Although I am surrounded by people, I feel isolated from the rest of the world. I have spent my life thinking the world couldn’t understand me. It taught me to repress my emotions and thoughts because no matter how many times I would reach out, the people wouldn’t dare to understand me, or worse, think of me as a burden.
Little did I know, there are people willing to understand me. As I share little conversations with the people whom I trust, I have understood that I am not alone. They told me to never hesitate to reach out because they are willing to give me their time. They also keep telling me to remind myself that I’m neither alone nor a burden.
Mitski added a pinch of salt to my wound. In her entire career, she has built a body of work telling the truth no matter how uncomfortable, tender, or devastating it may be. She explores themes of self-reckoning, identity, vulnerability and the complexities of human relations.
Even with that, it is unimaginable to think that Mitski has an ounce of whimsiness in her. I had witnessed her frolicking beneath the stage lights, as if she was wandering carefree into her own little fairytale. Every playful step she did, created a gentle atmosphere inviting the audiences into the same dream as hers even for a little while.
I found a safe haven in Mitski’s concert when she played Washing Machine Heart, a song about wanting to be loved by someone who doesn’t even love you. The struggle with the desire to be chosen by someone you love. At that moment, I felt connected with the track and found a place where I could stay for a little longer.
I slowly closed my eyes and it reminded me how my journal has countless stories of unrequited love. Somewhere along the way, I became someone’s safety net. I was there believing that every act was a form of love that would bring us closer. But, it was never that kind of situation as I thought it was. He only turned to me whenever he needed comfort when he felt that the world was against him. I stayed whenever he called and said that he needed me.
But, it didn’t last.
When I opened my eyes, there I was, soaked in a breathtaking scene created by blinding lights that almost felt unreal. I didn’t have the time to realize that the song I felt connected to had already ended, and that My Love Mine All Mine and Two Slow Dancers had taken its place. For everyone immersed, it was a piece of a moment to hold onto forever.
The concert gradually approached its end, I thought the night was already complete. Much to my surprise, Mitski still had one more surprise for the audience: Nobody. Although the track suggests that humans feel lonely and long for connection, the crowd told a different story as they erupted when they recognized the track. Everyone sang every lyric in unison. Nobody felt alone. I almost cried.
The stage lights slowly died, but there were lights in the audiences’ eyes as if they had found comfort in Mitski’s tracks. And if I, a stranger to her songs, has almost shed tears, how much more of those who found themselves in her music? I supposed they were as devastated as I am.
The concert lasted for an hour and a half. When I brought my feet outside the venue, it felt heavy as if it was telling me not to leave hastily. The concert holds so much love I can’t fathom. It was gentle. It was caressing me. It was everything I have never dreamt of. But, somehow it was also devastating.
I never thought that I would leave the ground trying to find myself again. I felt like I had been pulled away from the person I became and brought back to everything I used to be. I had missed a piece of someone I used to love and confronted the feelings I had buried for so long.
The words that had flowed had reminded me of a version of myself I had forgotten somewhere. For a moment, I wasn’t just there as an intern who was tasked to cover the concert, but as a part of the crowd who was reconnected with the parts of himself he thought he already lost.
With so much love, the concert reminded me that we sometimes find comfort in other people’s artistry — in the songs that hold emotions we struggle to express, in the lyrics that speak for our feelings, and everything in between that reminds us we are not alone in what we carry.
Honestly, I find it embarrassing to have not known Mitski before.
Written by Ralf Jun Tilasa, a Communication and Media Studies student at the University of the Philippines – Visayas.