Gatekeeping Mitski
collage by HSR
Gatekeeping usually takes the form of 90s kids who cling to birth year like it means anything, or uber-indie guitar players with superiority complexes about being a “true fan,” just because they know more weird Nirvana or Oasis facts than you do. Urban Dictionary’s top definition of the word says it’s “when someone takes it upon themselves to decide who does or does not have access or rights to a community or identity.” The second definition says, “when someone uses a hobby or interest as a means of elevating themselves above others to give oneself a sense of being superior, transforming their passion or knowledge about a particular subject into an ugly tool of self-inflation.” One thing most people can agree on: gatekeeping is pretty obnoxious. Art, music and literature are all meant to be shared, not strictly policed by a select few who declare themselves the gatekeepers. But are there times when gatekeeping might actually be okay?
Most fans of Mitski would probably describe her as an indie artist, but that doesn’t mean she’s unpopular. Just last year, her song “Strawberry Blond” reached peak virality when a cute little spoof called “Strawberry Cow” started circulating on TikTok. “Strawberry Blond” is probably one of Mitski’s most upbeat songs—the kind of song to frolic around in a sunny open field to. Compared to her other work, it stands out in its bright sound, which may have aided in its easy acceptance into the “mainstream” majority of non-Mitski listeners on TikTok. However, “Strawberry Blond” isn’t just a folksy love song; it may sound almost uncharacteristic with its lilting melody and quick tempo—a clear departure from a usually dismal, edgy or more experimental sound—but the subject of the song is still very Mitski.
Like some of her other work, “Strawberry Blond” can be interpreted as a woman of color’s experience with love and whiteness. Yearning, aching, loving; all of these are classic Mitski topics covered in the song. As evidenced by the title, the person Mitski’s yearning for is a white man. And as evidenced by lines like, “All I need, darling, is a life in your shape / I picture it, soft, and I ache,” Mitski cannot be with this person. Another one of Mitski’s songs speaking to the experience of being a BIPOC in a relationship with a white person is, “Your Best American Girl.” (Just a quick shameless plug: go read my other article, “Your Best American Girl: Mitski’s Anthem for the Un-American,” and then come back to this piece.)
If we analyze “Strawberry Blond” with the information that “Your Best American Girl” gives us about Mitski’s experiences as a WOC and her relationship with whiteness in American culture and her own identity, we can get a better picture of the message she might be trying to send. While it may not be explicitly stated within the song itself, “Strawberry Blond” has been widely interpreted as an expression of being an outsider looking in on white American culture, and the difficulties of dating and self-image as a person of color.
When “Strawberry Cow” and other similar spoofs started making their rounds on TikTok, it was fairly harmless. Just a little video about some girl’s stuffed strawberry cow. Pretty soon, fans of Mitski were popping up in the comment sections of videos that used the sound, or made their own with whatever lyrics were fitting. Terms like “erasure” or “appropriation” were thrown around, perhaps only in jest and exaggeration, but not without a fair point. There aren’t many artists like Mitski. A WOC singing about her own experiences with a multicultural identity, mental illness, and love? Not impossible to find, but not exactly common either. To have her music being made into a lighthearted song to show off cottagecore picnics was understandably irksome to Mitski listeners who’d found a unique solace in the relatability of her work, especially when the people using it for the aesthetic were white girls.
So maybe you’re wondering by now, where exactly does gatekeeping fit into this? Mitski is a woman of color singing about her experiences. If a white person takes “Your Best American Girl,” and says they can relate because they're brunette and their crush likes blondes, isn’t that perfectly okay? Music is up to the listener’s interpretation, so why can’t everyone just listen to Mitski the way they like? This is where it starts to get more complicated, and things start to delve into deeper territory than just liking a certain song.
Mitski has quite a few songs that have become popular sounds on TikTok. “Nobody,” “Me and My Husband,” and “Class of 2013” are just a few of them. However, there isn’t nearly as much discourse related to those songs. Why not? While all of Mitski’s work is inherently influenced by her identity, “Nobody” was written about feeling lonely, “Me and My Husband” is speculated to be about an unhealthy relationship, and “Class of 2013” is an expression of uncertainty in the face of looming adulthood. Each of these songs never explicitly states that they’re about biracial identity or struggling with self-image as a POC. We can infer that those factors played a part in the greater motivation behind the songs, but they’re fairly relatable on their own, without too much analysis. They are more widely relatable to people of differing cultural backgrounds because they deal with things like mental illness or heartbreak, rather than the experience of a certain cultural identity.
For many, Mitski’s music is a way to express the pain of growing up as a child of immigrants, a person of color, a woman, mentally ill, or all of those. In my own hours of scrolling through Mitski TikToks and the Mitski subreddit, I’ve found that there’s a hyper specific group of people that Mitski really resonates with—and that’s the mentally ill, multicultural, first generation eldest daughters who never truly felt beautiful under white American beauty standards. (Did I just describe myself? Maybe. But maybe I described a few of you who are reading this, too.)
To me, and to many others, Mitski is more than just a cool half-Japanese chick who makes relatable music. Music has a way of giving life meaning when it doesn’t seem like there is any. Mitski has a way of making the lonely feel less alone. Songs like “Strawberry Blond” and “Your Best American Girl” are comforting because they give a voice to a group of people who haven’t heard their own stories told much in a popular music setting. Representation matters!
It doesn’t take much to see the discourse on the idea of gatekeeping Mitski. All you have to do is scroll through the “Your Best American Girl” sound on TikTok. In fact, that’s exactly how I conducted my research for this piece. I spent an inordinate amount of time reading through comments, and admittedly I considered weighing in with my own strong opinions a few times. Multiple TikTok videos about feeling hurt that white cottagecore people took a song about POC struggles and used it as a cutesy aesthetic song, sit alongside those very aesthetic videos. A few of them are tagged with #decolonizemitski.
The real problem is when white Americans listen to “Your Best American Girl” or “Strawberry Blond” and fail to understand the perspective from which it was written. TikToks with captions like, “I’m white, but I can relate to this song because my ex-girlfriend is dating a blonde girl now,” are guaranteed to have multiple heated arguments in the comments. Typically, the two sides are pro-gatekeeping and anti-gatekeeping. The pro argument says that Mitski sings about her experiences as a WOC, therefore a white person wouldn't be able to relate to it, so they should not erase the true meaning of the song with their own narrative. Anti-gatekeeping says that music is art, and art is ultimately up to the consumer to interpret, and difficult emotions are not an exclusively POC struggle.
Nobody is truly gatekeeping Mitski. Each side has valid points. It is slightly tone-deaf to listen to “Your Best American Girl” as the white American girl Mitski is singing about, and believe it’s for you. Saying “Strawberry Blond” is Mitski’s happiest song just because it’s plucky and upbeat, shows a lack of lyrical analysis, and using it as a meme somewhat diminishes its depth. On the other hand, people are allowed to listen to whatever they want and interpret it however they want. A lot of songs have meanings that nobody ever bothers to look up, but they still are able to understand them emotionally to a certain extent.
One sentiment I saw over and over in my hours of scrolling was this: white people can listen to Mitski, but they can never listen to Mitski. I agree with this idea. When I listen to “Strawberry Blond” and “Your Best American Girl,” I’m relating to it based on my own experiences as a WOC in America. I’m thinking about whatever regrettable white boys I’ve liked, and how I tried to change myself to fit their idea of womanhood and beauty. I’m remembering how little white girls in elementary school would squash their perfectly pointed noses down with one finger and ask me why mine looked like that. I’m contemplating what it means to be a child of immigrants in America, and the unique struggle of coming to terms with a multicultural identity.
Mitski’s music resonates with people who have dealt with being on the outside of American whiteness, who want to be a part of it and fit in, but also don’t want to forget their roots. There are TikToks about trying to hide accents they didn’t even know they had, being made fun of for “smelly” ethnic lunches in school, and struggling with self-image because the beauty standard is white. Struggles like these aren’t usually made into songs, so when they are, it’s kind of like finding a diamond in the rough.
I believe the best solution is to acknowledge that Mitski’s music is shaped by her experiences as a WOC. “Strawberry Blond” and “Your Best American Girl” are prime examples of songs that may not be universally relatable, but can still be listened to and enjoyed by everyone. There is no need to truly gatekeep Mitski for the girls and gays of color—just don’t dismiss the meaning. Mitski isn’t just for a certain demographic. She makes music for everyone. It’s just not about everyone, and that’s okay. Some people will empathize with Mitski and others may only be able to sympathize. It is important to remember the distinction there. Additionally, the song can mean whatever you want it to personally, but that doesn’t change what it actually is about. You can totally listen to Mitski as a white person and feel jealousy towards the blonde your ex is dating—but sharing that on TikTok when everyone else is talking about culture, oppression and identity might not be the best idea.
In conclusion, the verdict on gatekeeping is this: Mitski is a unique and talented singer-songwriter with a perspective that not everyone will relate to, but that doesn’t mean only the people with that perspective should listen to her. We are all free to find whatever meaning we choose in the art we consume. We are also free to educate ourselves on what inspired that art and what kind of person the artist is. Listening to music that portrays a perspective we don’t know innately also gives us the opportunity to broaden our own. So go listen to some Mitski. Now.