Father John Misty finds ‘Comedy’ in contradictions
Name-checking the biggest pop star in the world is a surefire way to make headlines.
Kanye West sparked outrage last REVIEW PATRICK year with his deRYAN meaning lyrics and naked depiction of on-and-off-again friend Taylor Swift in Famous, only to win back public favor when wife Kim Kardashian West released footage of the singer giving her approval.
Father John Misty ignited a smaller, but still noteworthy controversy last month when he released single Total Entertainment
Forever, which opens with him crooning about “bedding Taylor Swift every night inside the Oculus Rift.” Condemned as “sexist” and “creepy” online, he later explained in an interview with Ex
claim! that it was actually a critique of people’s rabid consumption of entertainment and that “if you don’t think that this virtual reality thing isn’t going to turn into sex with celebrities, then you’re kidding yourself.”
The whole thing could be chalked up to another attentiongrabbing stunt from the folk-rock provocateur, whose wild press tour this spring has included dropping LSD before interviews, calling Beyoncé and Lady Gaga “prisoners,” and releasing and deleting three nameless “Generic Pop Songs.” But even as insufferable as his public persona can be, the former Fleet Foxes drummer, real name: Josh Tillman, successfully channels his lofty ideas and long-winded tangents into vivid, thought-provoking songs on Pure Comedy ( out of four), his third album under stage name Father John Misty.
Tillman covers a lot of ground over the course of 75 minutes, evoking the likes of Neil Young and Elton John as he sounds off on technology, consumerism, pol-
itics and the downfall of the human race. In Things That Would Have Been Helpful to Know Before the Revolution, he imagines reverting to simpler, Neanderthal times, hunting and gathering “on this godless rock that refuses to die.” In When the God of Love Returns There’ll Be Hell To
Pay, he condemns the self-serving appetites of man, telling the Lord that “we’re the Earth’s most soulful predator. Try something less ambitious the next time you get bored.”
But his damning, borderline pretentious proclamations are balanced by more introspective, often amusing observations. In the 13-minute Leaving LA, Tillman weighs the possibility of losing his identity if he had signed to a major label and accepts that his mostly college-age fan base will eventually tire of him. He even mocks the polarizing, hipster cari- cature he has become: “Oh great, that’s just what we all need. Another white guy in 2017 who takes himself so (expletive) seriously.”
For all his blustering about narcissism in the online age and artists becoming commodities, Tillman does leave listeners on an uncharacteristically hopeful note. Wrestling with existential dread in the album’s closer, In Twenty
Years or So, he reckons that there is nothing to fear about death. “This human experiment will reach its violent end, but I look at you as our second drinks arrive. The piano player’s playing This
Must Be the Place and it’s a miracle to be alive.”
It’s a moving sentiment from a guy who seemingly would rather be known for angrily huffing offstage at festivals and tripping on acid at Taylor Swift concerts. But it’s that bundle of contradictions that makes Father John Misty one of 2017’s most captivating artists.
Download: Ballad of the Dying Man, Leaving LA, In Twenty Years or So