Untangling the Unique, Private and Meteoric Rise of Mitski in the Age of TikTok
Once an indie darling, Mitski’s 2023 hit “My Love Mine All Mine” has taken her to brand new heights. Over a billion streams later, and she remains offline and unwilling to give into the machine that pleads for her to enable parasociality.

Mitski’s meteoric rise over the past year of her career has been nothing short of an anomaly. Last September, the former indie darling garnered her first Billboard-charting single with “My Love Mine All Mine,” peaking at #26. It doesn’t seem like Mitski (or her team) did anything in pursuit of this song becoming the hit that it is—it just sort of happened, which is even more confounding, considering that “My Love Mine All Mine” wasn’t even one of the album’s three pre-release singles (“Bug Like an Angel,” “Star” and “Heaven” were given that designation). If anything, Mitski and her team took the opposite approach to promotion than what is typically advised; their distant and hands-off approach is truly a testament of two things: Mitski’s prowess as an artist, and the significance of luck in the music industry.
For the week of May 31st, 2024, Mitski’s The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We was the 193rd-most streamed album on Spotify globally, and peaked at #37 last October. The record was sandwiched between two blockbuster rap albums, Lil Uzi Vert’s Luv Is Rage 2 and Bryson Tiller’s T R A P S O U L, and, since its September 2023 release, remained in the Spotify Global Top 200 chart until the week of June 13th, 2024—which is especially rare but perhaps not for an indie label release like Mitski’s, which came via the ever-timeless Dead Oceans (Wednesday, Japanese Breakfast, Phoebe Bridgers). “My Love Mine All Mine,” in particular, has become a giant, as it recently crossed the 1 billion streams threshold on Spotify after being out for just nine months. For context, Taylor Swift’s “Look What You Made Me Do” did not hit that milestone until last November, despite having been on the platform for six years.
Mitski is no stranger to the “indie darling” title. Her first label-distributed record, 2014’s Bury Me At Makeout Creek, captured the eyes and ears of many in the music journalism sphere—and for good reason. The record scored a write up from Rolling Stone in which her guitar work was likened to Black Sabbath and Liz Phair, and Pitchfork’s Ian Cohen ended his review of the record saying that “the craft here is obvious, as is the accruing confidence of someone who’s developed a compelling voice in obscurity.” Makeout Creek is a raw and vulnerable record, with a spectrum of emotion that is only bolstered by its charmingly low-budget production. Mitski’s masterful songwriting can be found in any song on the record, but “Last Words of a Shooting Star” may be the most poignant: “And did you know the liberty bell is a replica silently housed in its original walls? / And while its dreams played music in the night / Quietly, it was told to believe” is a hauntingly beautiful lyric about insecurity and the questionable worthiness of perseverance, and Mitski’s range with both is what allowed her to maintain and grow that indie darling positioning as her career continued. Her music was known to be patently sad, but in such a way that replayability was not jeopardized. Listeners knew what they were going into Mitski’s work for, but they also knew she had the drive and capacity to innovate her sound on future releases.
Consistent growth in critical appreciation is exactly what happened for Mitski. 2016’s Puberty 2 and 2018’s Be the Cowboy both have an aggregate critic score of 85 out of 100, and both ended up topping several year-end and decade-end lists (Puberty 2 clocked in at #5 on Paste’s year-end list; Be the Cowboy was voted the sixth-best LP two years later). Songs like “Your Best American Girl,” “Nobody” and “I Bet On Losing Dogs” became cult classics for their evergreen lyrics about the struggles of finding love and feeling inadequate. By 2020, Mitski had built a massively dedicated fanbase and her records sold well among the music obsessives who adored her, but her name had yet to reach the ears of the general public.
During the album cycles for Puberty 2 and Be the Cowboy, Mitski was considerably active on social media, especially Twitter. While all of those old tweets are now deleted, the Internet Archives show that she was posting several times a day—either by responding to fan questions or musing on her own personal qualms with the world. Her profile picture was her pouring NyQuil into a Starbucks cup, and she would tweet things like “I am always amazed by how ‘peekaboo’ really does work on children.” She was reachable; she was one of us. That would all come to a halt at the end of 2019, when the Be the Cowboy album cycle was nearing its end. Mitski deleted her Twitter, and it would not come back until the announcement of her sixth studio album, Laurel Hell, in 2021. Even then, the account ceased to be run by her, and all of its posts were now written in the third person.
Towards the end of touring for Be the Cowboy, Mitski toyed with the idea of retiring from music entirely. She did not feel cut out for the fame she was garnering, and the pressures of a growing fanbase were gnawing at her. She announced that her 2019 Central Park show would be her “last show indefinitely,” and she moved to Nashville to become a ghost songwriter. If it weren’t for the pandemic forcing everyone to rethink their lives and livelihoods, that might have been the end of Mitski’s story. She later admitted that the pandemic made her realize that she had made a mistake, and her urges to quit making music for herself were misguided by the turmoil of fame—an engine of reckoning explored further in “Working For the Knife,” the lead single of Laurel Hell. “I always thought the choice was mine / And I was right, but I just chose wrong / I start the day lying and end with the truth / That I’m dying for the knife,” she sings atop sparse, industrial synths, letting us in on her internal battle between passion for making and sharing her music (and the anguish that comes with said music having to be a commercial product). And yet, Mitski marched on.