The sophomore effort from Mia Berrin and her bandmates – drummer Shelby Keller, bassist Lauren Marquez, guitarist Alex Mercuri and new addition, Berrin’s co-producer and co-writer Cody Fitzgerald of Stolen Jars – delivers a potent blend of grunge-inflected rock and pop sensibilities.
Using the metaphor of a hall of mirrors and the idea of Alice in Wonderland as a major touchstone, the tumbled, harangued, and dependent on others waif to whom things happen rather than seeming choices she’s ‘given’. “Downhill” has Berrin falling down her own personal rabbit hole, partially created by the acclaim of her 2021 debut Death of a Cheerleader, and the unexpected changes it created.
“Spinning” continues the disorienting shift into the limelight. Ice-cold piano jabs and a humming bassline turn this pop song upside down, the frowning, slow drum beats only piling on top of this aching look at betrayal and introspection. “Street Fighter” is where the fightback starts in earnests. Subverting her cheerleader tendencies, "M-E-S-S-Y / You're messy” and embracing her inner video game and anime-loving geekdom “Street Fighter / Igniter / Short fuse if you light my fire / Press start to try again / I’m not your fucking friend”
The move towards ‘finding oneself’ amid the confusion and chaos becomes about reclaiming parts of yourself you give away and other familiar characters come into focus. Anime protagonists Sailor Moon and Perfect Blue's Mima Kirigoe are key figures who have to overcome massive changes and negative perceptions to use their voices and it’s an apt way to wrap their experiences around Berrin’s in processing these jarring changes.
Anxiety within identity and finding meaning is depicted as a tug-of-war between the urge to put on a brave face and the weight of despair. “Villain” is a swagger song, coming for you head-on to bury the hatchet, “Yeah I’m the villain / Target in sight and I’m willing / Hungry for blood and I’m venomous / Fuck around and find out who the villain is.” It’s raw and fearless allowing angst to fuel the ferocity. “Running From Myself” is a catchy as fuck pop stomp that although partly regretful also resolves in the realisation that it’s a futile effort. “Messaged” follows suit with the universe delivering up its own tribulations and as the album plays out we gradually see light at the end of the tunnel.
Berrin's gentle lyrical turn in “Montauk”, a dreamlike nursery rhyme, floats upwards, escaping the grime and dirt of the rabbit hole for the lusher grass. Her knack for storytelling and expressing hurt in a minimal couplet is exquisite, as is the feeling of respite once she’s free.
Mirror Starts Moving Without Me features striking visuals and a compelling narrative, while the album’s production maintains a lo-fi aesthetic that enhances the authenticity of the emotions conveyed. “Tarot Interlude” feels unnecessary and maybe over-egging the fairytale ending. The same case may be put to closer “The Tower” but at least this does rasp and battle in amongst the syrupy strings. Throughout the highs and lows, the album ultimately invites listeners to join in Berrin’s cathartic journey and embrace their own complexities, searching for solace in a chaotic world.
