Mitski, Royal Albert Hall, London review • DIY Magazine

Now 15-odd years and eight studio albums in, Mitski has emerged as the somewhat unlikely subject of intense Gen Z adoration: unlikely because, on the face of it, her brand of off-kilter art-pop-rock - particularly her conceptual latest effort ‘Nothing’s About To Happen To Me’ - doesn’t seem all that conducive to either radio singalongs or TikTok soundbiting. She’s not cast in the mould of a Taylor Swift pop juggernaut, nor does she play the role of a romantic, Lana Del Rey-style tragic heroine. She is, well, a little bit weird. Which makes it all the more intriguing that the American auteur has managed to capture the imagination of a whole new wave of fans - fans who, if tonight’s screaming crowd at London’s Royal Albert Hall are anything to go by, treat her with a reverence to rival any major pop player.

Aptly aligning with her recent LP’s character-centric narrative - that of a reclusive woman who finds freedom only when alone in her ramshackle house - the lighting is such that Mitski and her band are included in the scope of the projections behind them, actors absorbed into the screen as their scenes shift from golden Midwest cornfields (‘Buffalo Replaced’) to a vast oceanic expanse (‘Dead Women’). As if to blur the boundaries between stage and screen even further, on either wing are the miscellaneous trappings of a homely living room - a lamp, a coffee table - that recall the immersive locale-based staging of Lily Allen’s ‘West End Girl’ theatre run. And, though our protagonist takes a brief sojourn on a chaise lounge for viral favourite ‘I Bet On Losing Dogs’, you can’t help but wish that, like Allen, Mitski would use these home comforts to their full potential, integrating them fully to become not occasional props, but a focal point of her performance.

Or, in truth, she could equally do away with them entirely - an artist as arresting and surprising as this has no real need for soft furnishings. As myriad phone torches appear spontaneously for both ‘Heaven’ and second-half highlight ‘Two Slow Dancers’, she’s angelic, the swaying pinpricks of light shining down from the stalls illuminating a standing section which is utterly enthralled (save for some endearingly enthusiastic young fans, who aren’t even facing the stage as they twirl each other around and around).

Even better, though, is when angelic turns demonic: ‘Where’s My Phone?’ sees Mitski jumping around the stage in exactly the sort of reverie the stomping rock-opera single calls for, while her treatment of alt-country hoedown ‘Rules’ - namely, dancing loose-limbed and fancy free, as if a teenager armed with a hairbrush microphone - gleefully gives the crowd permission to stop filming and do the same. Pre-encore closer ‘That White Cat’, meanwhile, is a left-field triumph, its skittish agitation heightened to pummelling drama under the auditorium’s acoustic-perfect roof.

Existing at the crossroads between accidental social media star and pop outsider is a strange tightrope to walk, but if anything, Mitski’s turn at the Royal Albert Hall shows that her newer influx of fans are more than onboard with, well, a little bit weird.