After twelve years as a solo artist, Josh Tillman has carved out a distinct identity as Father John Misty. Ever the cynic, his indie rock offers witty attacks on all parts of society, saving the harshest words for himself. Fans have watched his sonic evolution, too, from the acoustic panic of Fear Fun to the introspective ballads on Pure Comedy. On Mahashmashana, his sixth studio album, Tillman has tightly compiled an 8-song package of his absolute best.
The self-titled first track falls into the former category, with the strings constantly swelling underneath his biting lyrics. In the first pre-chorus, Tillman asks whether ‘a scheme to enrich assholes’ was God’s plan for the world, then questions if ‘such revelations’ are things that ‘only singers could describe’. With one couplet, he pokes fun at both his own persona and his audience’s tendency to treat his words as gospel.
However, Tillman doesn’t just critique himself through sarcasm. On “Josh Tillman and the Accidental Dose”, he openly admits to ‘publicly treating acid with anxiety’, over a laid-back groove interrupted by frantic string passages. The story running through this track is a familiar format: Tillman finds himself in a social bind, which is compounded by him being high.
He seems much less celebratory of his drug use than on earlier albums – the lyric ‘we could do ayahuasca, baby, if I wasn’t holding all these drinks’, off I’m Writing a Novel, comes to mind. Instead, he is much more frank. Over the raucous beat of “She Cleans Up”, which was co-written by punk band Viagra Boys, he declares that he’s ‘never gonna touch that shit again’. While Tillman is not known for his collaboration, the funkier beat than usual adds a breath of fresh air, reminding us that this is a newer Father John Misty.
That said, FJM the balladeer isn’t going anywhere either. “Mental Health” is a delicately orchestrated tune, and sees some of the album’s most trademark lyrics. As with the rest of his discography, you would be forgiven for calling the content a little pretentious. That said, the construction of the song’s peak in the final chorus should bring goosebumps to even the most critical of listeners. Tillman croons that ‘insanity, babe, is indispensable’ over a cushion of huge chords. However, the chorus is harder to orchestrate away; the central lyric of ‘mental health, mental health, maybe we’re all far too well’ could be less tongue-in-cheek.
The album’s lead single, “I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All”, offers all kinds of reflections that could only be delivered by someone who’s been in the game for a while. Tillman pulls no punches here, criticising old power structures, consumerist culture and a growing fascination with war. ‘The greatish minds of my generation,’ he remarks, are ‘gladly conscripted in war, that would defend any Goliath’. He delivers all this in a matter-of-fact tone, over a groove so good it makes you forget the song’s eight minute runtime. It even closes out with a Stevie Wonder-like distorted guitar line, reminding the listener that while Tillman is here to critique, he’s also here to have fun.
Though, ultimately, he signs off on a sombre note. “Summer’s Gone” closes the album, a stripped back, raw track with an instrumental that would fit Billie Holiday and lyrics that could soundtrack any film’s emotional goodbye. ‘But you eat a peach, or you skin your knee,’ Tillman sighs, ‘and time can’t touch me’. Cue the waterworks.
When listening, you can’t help but view the album as a victory lap of sorts, hitting all the highs of his musical career. His lyricism can occasionally be too much, and the instrumentals linger for a little too long on occasions. That said, Mahashmashana marks the wonderfully executed – and much needed – return of Father John Misty, here to remind us of the world’s imperfect beauty in an uncertain time.
9/10
Image credit: 2024 Joshua Tillman. Under exclusive license to Bella Union.
