Father John Misty – Mahashmashana

Art Rock

72%

 

Do you ever watch a stone cold classic blockbuster and become disillusioned by modern cinema? Like you sit down and revisit Jurassic Park, Die Hard, Back to the Future, Terminator 2 etc. and wonder where all the cinematic talent that birthed those pictures has disappeared to. It’s baffling how tight and well paced the scripts are, it’s astonishing how much of the thrilling action is practical and happened in real time in front of the cameras, and barely minutes go by before you’re impressed by yet another interestingly framed piece of cinematography. Suddenly it dawns on you just how many modern movies fall flat by comparison. The action in your average Marvel movie becomes a lifeless CGI-fest, everything seems to have the same flat lighting and muted colours, and the less said about the kind of movies sent out to pasture on Netflix the better. You might have otherwise enjoyed that random schlocky action comedy you found on streaming had you not just watched a lovingly crafted work of art beforehand to show you how things could have been. 

I was immediately taken in by Mahashmashana on my first few casual listens. The arrangements so interesting, diverse, and well-realised. The sprawling 9 minute title track home to such lush opulent grandeur. The song’s rise and fall, and Tillman’s vocal cadence, reminds me a lot of T Rex’s ‘Ballrooms of Mars’ in places. The gorgeous piano, interesting percussion and trilling woodwinds of ‘Mental Health’ give it a luxurious lounge music vibe to rival latter day Arctic Monkeys, the surprising feminist anthem ‘She Cleans Up’ has a lot of raw 60s rocker energy, while ‘Josh Tillman and the Accidental Dose’ recalls Lou Reed for the most part before veering into Bond theme territory in its final moments. But it’s the disco and funk inspired grooves of ‘I Guess Time Makes Fools of Us All’ that made the most lasting impression. Such a wonderfully executed shift in style, one that fits his confident swagger like a glove, and the track’s sax solo is an absolute triumph, a late contender for one of the best musical moments of 2024.

However, before delving deeper, I made the fatal flaw of revisiting some of Father John Misty’s previous work. Returning to his first three records did Mahashmashana no favours whatsoever. It felt like trying to sit through Ready Player One having just watched Raiders as part of a Spielberg marathon; a lackadaisical offering from someone who you know can do better. There are so many elements that made his earlier work so captivating that seem obscured or omitted, and once I had noticed their absence the illusion was shattered. Though there are still some striking lines that stuck with me (“A perfect lie can live forever, The truth don’t fare as well, It isn’t perched on lips mid-laughter, It ain’t the kind of thing you tell” on the title track), there’s little of the deft lyrical touch found on Honeybear and Pure Comedy present here.

I dearly miss the sparkling wit and dark droll attitude that was once a central pillar of his charm. Mahashmashana is far too self-serious; its broad themes of humanity, death, and the passage of time, could have benefitted greatly from a bit of gallows humour to liven up the affair. ‘Josh Tillman and the Accidental Dose’ is pitched as a soft sequel to ‘The Night Josh Tillman Came to Our Apt.‘, with both reading as a critique of the pretentiousness of the company he keeps. Yet while ‘Apt.’ feels like a playful eyeroll to the camera, ‘Dose’ is more like a tired ramble after the joke has finally worn itself thin.  

His songwriting once took a fun outside-the-box approach, with entertaining easter eggs tucked away for those willing to do the reading. The lyricism here is frustratingly hard to parse and with little rewards or insight waiting at the other end. As brilliant as the arrangements are, the finer details behind them, the parts that once defined Father John Misty for me as an artist, are sadly lacking. “Just a spitting image, Of someone I forget“.