I Think I Realized I Hate Father John Misty Last Night
Like a preacher to his congregation, Father John Misty (FJM) belts an enquiry to Jesus.
“If this isn’t hell already, then tell me what the hell is?”
And like a well-trained studio audience, everyone claps, snaps, and fist pumps in solidarity at the overwhelmingly witty cynicism of the particular lyric; like over-zealous Quentin Tarantino fans laughing especially loudly as blood and guts fly across the cinema screen, demonstrating that they’re real Tarantino fans in their ability to see the humor in the hyperbolic violence.
On the evening of the 10th, American singer-songwriter Josh Tillman (more popularly known by his stage name Father John Misty) performed the first of his 3-show stretch in New York City’s Kings Theatre in Brooklyn. Backed by an impressive ensemble of musicians and his theatrical gesticulations, Tillman proved he really knows how to put on a show.
His movements were uncannily akin to Britpop front men of the 90’s, such as the similarly lanky Jarvis Cocker, and his penchant for swinging his microphone stand around in a hazardous manner was reminiscent of Brett Anderson’s microphone cord antics.
Characters from the album art of his recently released Pure Comedy were projected in the background, and as the images got progressively more gruesome, they started to feel biblical in their purgatory-like depictions.
Opening with the title track of the same name, Tillman began with a selection of songs from Pure Comedy including “Things It Would Have Been Helpful to Know Before the Revolution” and “When The God of Love Returns There’ll Be Hell To Pay”. But the evening really came into full swing when Tillman performed the first song from his much adored sophomore album I Love You, Honeybear.
With the first notes of “Smiling and Astride Me”, the entire theatre was on its feet and everyone was losing their goddamn minds. He proceeded to alternate between songs from ILYH and Fear Fun, his first offering as Father John Misty. Fan favorites like “Chateau Lobby #4” and “True Affection” were met with particular enthusiasm. Throughout, audience members shouted mundane and unimaginative comments like “I LOVE YOU HONEYBEAR!” and “I LOVE YOU DAD!” and “COME ON NOW!” (the last of which I can think of no explanation).
At one point, Tillman is handed the wrong guitar and attempts to fill the awkward glitch in an otherwise smooth-to-the-point-of-appearing over-rehearsed show.
“I will just stand here. I will just amuse you with my presence!” he adds as a stage hand fiddles with the instrument.
Overall it was a solidly entertaining show, so why the title of this review? Entertainment wasn’t the issue, it was the confirmation of suspicions that Father John Misty is just too Father John Misty to be palatable. He’s not FJM being FJM, he’s FJM emulating FJM as popular opinion has come to perceive him.
As a fan of I Love You, Honeybear, I had hoped that seeing him live would quell the doubts that had arisen after listening to the annoyingly self-indulgent Pure Comedy. The doubt that the music I was once so moved by was in fact created by such a nauseating persona. But that was unfortunately not the case, and I found myself severely disappointed by the incorrigible obnoxiousness of the performer on stage.
The lyrics I had mistakenly interpreted as sincere admissions of the fallibility of humankind were revealed through performance to be nothing more than sneers toward those caught up in mushy romanticism and ignorant of their own idealism. “Honeybear” was not a term of endearment, but a spit in the face toward all who would use such repulsive language, and when performed live made him look like a caricature of himself.
All that I’ve written, however, aren’t new accusations, and Tillman has gained and lost fans for these very reasons. In an interview with The Guardian earlier this year, Tillman revealed that this is not the image he wants to portray. Part of me believes that what I perceived as arrogance was just an elaborate front for a ball of deep-seated and crippling insecurities. But if that is indeed the case, then I find it odd that he seems only to fan the flames that support the image of him “wagging his finger at people from atop Fuck Mountain”.
