The Old Days Feeling retains that tender personal bedroom quality of her previous work that seems to mark all K artists in some way, and Mirah in particular. Mirah also retains her songwriting strength while widening her sonic palette.
“Slighted” dresses up a melancholy message with vintage reggae instrumentation. Like the old rhythm and blues sound of early Desmond Dekker and Toots, Mirah flexes the Jah muscle with ease and authenticity. “Don’t” brings the Phil Spector girl-group feel to the Dub Narcotic studio style and is the most obvious “hit” sounding track on the record. It’s the kind of song that’ll have you hopping on your vintage bike to trek down to the diner for a milkshake. “Don’t Go” kicks in heavier than we’re used to hearing Mirah, employing a power drenched chord ascension. It then transitions to the more familiar tender tone of a romantic plea that makes the case that her love is in danger of faltering when they’re not together.
It's the only entrance of a truly heavy track. “Lone Star” uses Texan metaphors to describe the size and impact of the story’s muse in a mythic and tragic way. The clamoring refrain is infectious and seems to be in the tradition of songs like “Gigantic”.
Mirah’s songs put sexuality, love, confusion, and emotional gentility constantly side-by-side. She translates the complexity of any situation with ease and reminds you how much deeper a person’s feelings run than most art. She also explores sexuality not only from the point of experience but also culturally and socially, bravely putting herself in different shoes to see what it’s like. Like many great K artists, Mirah can weave a near-nursery rhyme with subversive sonic power and modern adult issues while retaining the sting of simplicity. She has the ability to make you truly feel like no other record you have could ever be as honest as this one.
