I missed Mitski in October, when she played The Imperial. I put this down mostly to me not having yet heard of her and related complications of space-time. I missed Mitski's career entirely. Be the Cowboy (Dead Oceans, 2018) is her fifth record. It's the first for me. For the foreseeable future, it’s her final one. The album’s release was followed shortly by an announcement that her New York Central Park shows this fall will be her last ever (or, at least, indefinitely). She’s tired of constantly touring. She doesn't like what it does to her. She misses her apartment in the city, her home and her friends, a life less lonely.
My knowledge of popular music has a lacuna that stretches from 2010 until 2017. The reasons for this seem to me to be diverse and complex. But everything I think about seems to me to be diverse and complex, especially all the things that almost certainly are not. I was absent from the city from 2010 to 2017. During this time, I, like Mitski, missed being part of an urban cultural community centred about music and mutual respect. For some reason, music became that which reminded me most of what I missed about the city. I found new music too painful to contemplate and so I decided to pretend it wasn't happening. I tried not to know about good music on purpose because it seemed to belong to a world that was closed to me for good. It was a bad decision, perfectly executed, that made everything worse. Therefore, and in conclusion, allow me to sum up by circling back to say this, one final time: Missing Mitski wasn’t an aberration: it was the plan. Not a good plan, no.
There's no other information provided with which to figure out which side to play first. It's a puzzle. I got it wrong the first time. Played the Be side first.