Name: Mitski (Mitsuki Laycock, professionally Mitski Miyawaki)
Date of Birth: September 27, 1990
City: Born in Mie Prefecture; raised nomadically, now based in the United States (often associated with New York)
Country: Japan (birth), United States
Genre: Indie Rock, Singer-Songwriter, Art Pop, Alternative
Band/Group Members: Solo artist
Roles: Singer, songwriter, guitarist, composer
Bio:
Picture a childhood stitched together from airport terminals and foreign streets—Mie Prefecture in Japan at the start, then bouncing through Turkey, China, Malaysia, Congo, and more, her dad's State Department job pulling the family along like a restless current. Mitski landed in the US eventually, carrying that quiet ache of never quite belonging anywhere, and it seeped into every note she wrote. She swapped film studies at Hunter College for music at SUNY Purchase, self-releasing her early piano-driven albums Lush and Retired from Sad while still in school, raw student projects that already hinted at the emotional depth to come.
By Bury Me at Makeout Creek in 2014, she found her electric guitar voice—grittier, louder, full of longing that hits like a punch you didn't see coming. Then Puberty 2, Be the Cowboy, Laurel Hell, and 2023's The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We turned her into something bigger: songs like "Your Best American Girl," "Nobody," or "My Love Mine All Mine" that feel like private confessions set to swelling strings and driving rhythms, capturing the loneliness of modern life, the hunger for connection, the fear of being seen too clearly. Her voice climbs and cracks in ways that make your chest tighten, blending indie rock's rawness with pop's pull and artful experimentation.
Right now, early 2026, she's teasing fresh chapters—cryptic Instagram clips of kitchens and quiet whispers, a mysterious "Where’s My Phone?" link, and fans buzzing about a new single dropping soon, maybe even an album this year that echoes the raw energy of her mid-2010s era. She's been off the road a bit, but whispers of 2026 shows are floating around. Mitski's music has always felt like holding a mirror to your own unspoken hurts, gentle yet unflinching. When the world feels too loud or too empty, her songs sit with you in the quiet, reminding you you're not alone in the ache. Throw on "The Land" or wait for whatever's coming—it's worth the wait.