This spring, somewhere between her memoir Crying in H Mart debuting at No. 2 on The New York Times’ Best Sellers list and her turn as a vampiric sugar baby to an ex-Soprano in a self-directed video, it officially became Jbrekkie Season. Michelle Zauner, the musician, author, director, and food enthusiast behind Japanese Breakfast, had seemingly planned it that way, holding her ambitious third record—and first in four years—until the pandemic eased. As she declared in press releases and interviews, Jubilee would be a celebration of joy after years of feeling defined by her writing about grief, following the loss of her mother to cancer in 2014.
This jubilee, like many others, comes with an air of regality: triumphant horns and swooping strings fill the music like a lush 2000s chamber pop record. But no album about joy would be complete without a few killer pop songs, from the sexy-in-slow-motion “Posing in Bondage” to “Be Sweet,” which is frankly begging for an ’80s montage scene to soundtrack. Some have positioned Taylor Swift’s folklore as the great nexus of pop music and indie culture, but an album like Jubilee is a more interesting example of pop’s fluidity: a true blue rock star tempered in the waters of shoegaze, Pacific Northwest rock, and twee, making music that naturally bridges the gap between dream pop and electropop. It’s an exuberant listen that feels of the moment and also steeped in classic indie sensibilities, packed with Zauner’s sharp observations and frank desires.
You can feel that specific buzz in the opening track “Paprika,” which layers martial snares, bubbling orbs of synth, and horns that practically announce “I’m here!” The lyrics colorfully illustrate the blessing and the burden of getting to express yourself creatively for a living: “How’s it feel to be at the center of magic/To linger in tones and words?/I opened the floodgates and found no water, no current, no river, no rush.” But Zauner clearly had no trouble finding inspiration for the song itself, which comes to life with a playful sense of grandeur that’s hard not to get swept up in, waltzing yourself around the house, tingling with wonder. When she’s on, her energy is completely infectious, and the beginning of the album thrives on this current while accommodating numerous styles. Swooning small-town ode “Kokomo, IN” channels Belle and Sebastian at their most orchestral, “Slide Tackle” splits the difference between Arthur Russell’s lo-fi disco and Carly Rae Jepsen’s sax moments, and “Posing in Bondage,” with its striking vocal effects and flickering synths that bring to mind flashing tones, is like Zauner’s more guitar-driven take on Lorde’s Melodrama. They’re all quite different and yet feel perfectly at home next to one another on this mission to sustain bliss.