Mia June has gone from a dreamer to a fine plyer of songcraft; at the core of her lyrics is a cathartic release of emotion that she comes by with an honesty so raw as to be rarely heard. Her music reads like pages of a journal faithfully kept over time as if flowers pressed within an unruly volume. Her own process of growing up has stood as a reservoir of inspiration, guiding her to craft lyrics from a place of vulnerability. She writes of young love and angst with the seriousness of immediacy; she speaks of learning about the kind of person you are as you age, watching your friends change and drift away or stand closer than ever.
"Melbourne” is a mesmerizing incantation, revealing the passage of time through the changes in the lives around you, while “Cooking Oil” brews with the alchemy of ire. “Freckled Friend Forever” is an ode to missed chances and unspoken yearnings–a gentle lullaby to love’s might-have-beens. These songs draw inspiration from luminaries like Fiona Apple, Big Thief, and Lucy Dacus, but resist comparison; they’re distinctly direct, not a recollection of what youth was like but a primary source that says this is what youth is like.
