Miss Grit Darkens Their Palette on New Album "Under My Umbrella"
“Under My Umbrella”
The Sophomore Album from Miss Grit
Written by Virna Gvero
In the video for “Tourist Mind”, Miss Grit’s lead single from their sophomore record Under My Umbrella, they are standing against a dark backdrop, their bare chest and face traced by concentric light circles, expanding and contracting in a slow, hypnotic pulse. Their body morphs and unfolds, changing as is reshaped by light itself, while their shadow hovers above them, moving as the glowing spiral spins. Somewhere between op art and a performance piece, the video provides a fitting introduction to Margeret Sohn’s second record, an opus preoccupied with the architecture of the mind as an ever-evolving, uncertain — and most often — daunting space.
Shedding the android persona of their 2023 debut Follow the Cyborg, Miss Grit’s songwriting approach shifts significantly, turning inward and peeling away the protective filter of their robotic alter ego. On the album’s opener, a swelling, generous string melody is quickly disrupted by an industrial-tinged, relentless drum pattern: its anxious, fast-paced tempo creates a sense of urgency, reinforced by the underlying, throbbing synth line, over which Sohn sings, their voice airy, almost ethereal: “Start here / Then start to understand your fear / Forget before your eyes have cleared / Then start it over, snail in my ear”.
“Tourist Mind” Official Music Video | Miss Grit | Mute Records
Sohn’s writing is deeply concerned with the mind’s inner workings, its contradictions and idiosyncrasies. The imagery is highly personal and abstract, and both lyrically and sonically the track foregrounds a sense of circularity, of repetition, of starting over and over — some of the record’s central motifs. Under my Umbrella reads like a descent down the mind’s rabbit hole, drifting through sudden epiphanies, recurring images and intrusive thoughts, where self-understanding is depicted as an ongoing, ever-evolving process. As “Tourist Mind” draws to a close, Sohn repeats, almost as a mantra to themselves: “I’ve never wanted to be so alone”, affirming a radical need for isolation. Underneath, the instrumentation fluctuates, its intensity mounting and receding, eschewing a conventional climax in favour of a back-and-forth movement, underscoring an overall sense of uncertainty.
Lyrically, Under my Umbrella veers away from resolution, foregrounding instead contrasts and dramatic juxtapositions, resulting in a raw, unfiltered rendering of the singer-songwriter’s inner world. Moments of deep connection coexist with bouts of dissociation, glimmers of unexpected clarity are quickly overtaken by self-doubt and insecurity. On “Mind Disaster”, Sohn dwells on the profound, almost sacred intimacy of being in the presence of a someone else: “The feeling fills the ether / No thoughts when we’re together” — capturing the fleeting sensation of two minds falling into perfect sync, before confessing, “It feels so strange when / I don’t believe the things I say”. In this state of derealization, closeness becomes almost unbearable: “A close encounter / Mind disaster / Hearts too close it fills you up”. Intimacy here is rendered as both comforting and destabilising, simultaneously igniting feelings of connection and alienation.
The record’s strong inward turn stems from a deliberate stream-of-consciousness approach to songwriting, leaving behind the outward-looking, world-building stance of Follow the Cyborg. Written in the aftermath of a year spent touring solo across North America, Under My Umbrella also reflects Sohn coming to terms with their fictional persona, making space for a heightened sense of transparency and vulnerability, qualities that felt somewhat overshadowed by their cyborg doppelgänger. What shines through in their new record is a sense of immediacy and flow, allowing for experimentation and vulnerability — for an exploration of the self that is both stripped down and uncompromising, and feels all the more truthful for it.
Sohn’s writing approach carries over into the production, where editing is kept to a minimum, with first takes often preserved in order to capture the spontaneity of live performance and maintain a sense of immediacy. The arrangements exemplify their distinctive production style, with dense electronic layering and repeated motifs. Looped synth hooks and guitar lines, recurring melodic phrases and insistent rhythmic patterns accumulate gradually, reinforcing the album’s lyrical concerns. Throughout the record, tracks move between the brisk intensity of “Tourist Mind” and “Mind Disaster”, propelled by techno-like beats driving the songs’ momentum, and powerful crescendos where minimal instrumentation gives way to cathartic climaxes. (“Won’t Count on You”, “It Feels Like” or “Stranger”).
Elsewhere, tracks retain a more stripped-back, reflective atmosphere, such as in “Where Is My Head”. Halfway through the record, the song opens with a single repeating note, followed by drums and a looped guitar riff, foregrounding its circular structure. Sohn’s vocals unfold through a succession of repeated sentences: “I’ll never see in front of me / I’ll never breathe” — before the single-line refrain asks “Where is my head?”. The track articulates a feeling of deep unease, of disconnect from both self and others, who are, in contrast, “so free”. Harmonies and processed vocals thicken the melody, creating a haunting atmosphere, as if we are listening directly inside Sohn’s mind, where their innermost thoughts are laid bare. On “Stranger”, the following track, Sohn continues this exploration. The song’s expansive, industrial pop arrangement underscores a sense of inner conflict “A stranger in my head / Erasing dreams I have” — alongside an urgency, a desire for escape: “I wanted to run faster / You’re caught in a mind disaster”.
Closing the record, “Waste Me” stands apart from the rest of the record: its synth hook establishes a more open atmosphere, contrasting with the decidedly darker textures of earlier songs. Sohn’s synth pop anthem is concerned with perception, intimacy and a fundamental human dilemma: can we ever truly be seen for who we are? Reaffirming the record’s overall lyrical concerns, “Waste Me” also signals a shift in direction: it feels as though Sohn is re-emerging from the labyrinthine space of the mind, and the boundary between inner self and external reality begins to break down. “Everyone feels wasted / And they’re longing to exist”. As they ruminate on parasocial attachment and the experience of being misunderstood, the singer-songwriter also voices a feeling of quiet empathy, recognizing a shared fragility, an underlying, fundamental vulnerability to human experience. As the arrangement expands, they concede: “I’m just like you / I feel it too”. It’s not quite optimistic, but the line feels hopeful in its recognition of sameness. Through and through, Under my Umbrella — its title a nod to Rihanna’s 2007 hit — is an uncompromising exploration of self, never shying away from the imperfections and contradictions found along the way. And as Sohn reaches for a sense of closure, they suggest the possibility of a renewed connection that feels both empowering and liberating.
Written by Virna Gvero
