From the second you hit play on the title track off of Josh Tillman’s (under the stage name Father John Misty) new LP Pure Comedy, the listener is assaulted with about 10 seconds of disorienting and confusing stock sounds of vintage television programs as well as generic TV news snippets. From there, Josh Tillman wastes little time, on the albums first track, re-orienting the listener with his voice and quickly accosting what he calls the, “Comedy of Man”. Pure Comedy, as a song, sets the tone for the rest of album, with Tillman cooing charming melodies about the inherent absurdity of the human race: touching on everything from the birth process, to religious themes, to social dynamics. By itself, the song Pure Comedy features some of Tillman’s best compositional work, starring a somber piano part that serves to further the comparison between Tillman’s vocals and that of past stars like Elton John. But in the context of the album, with Pure Comedy being the first track off of an almost 80-minute project, the song presents itself as a disclaimer of sorts. A warning to fans, to critics, to the media, and to Tillman himself: If you’re going to take yourself too seriously, you’re not going to be able to enjoy this album.
FJM’s dramatic, irony-laden lyrics take aim at the many ailments of popular culture; but does so in a very dystopian manner. Take for example the album’s second track, Total Entertainment Forever. Possibly the most upbeat track sonically, the lyrics in the track (particularly during the first two verses) paint a scene in the not-so-distant future wherein humans have the ability at any point in time to employ some form of technology to fulfill whatever desires they hold. The track explores what effect this would have on us, and evokes feelings of a lost sense of humanity, similar to themes found present in the popular Netflix series Black Mirror. However, the third verse presents the listener with a different, more curious point of view. The third verse tells of future historians finding remnants of our presumably destroyed civilization, and how they would assess the morals and the value of our world. This is a theme that Tillman explores lyrically throughout the album; as many songs are written from a very reflective state of mind. Josh, unlike his earlier album I love you, Honeybear, is focusing on what judgements a truly objective viewer would have of our culture. What keeps this album from being an hour and a half-long self-righteous sermon, though, is Josh’s ability to turn the proverbial gun on himself. Pure Comedy does as much self-reflection as it does cultural critiques. For every song on the album like The Memo where we see him question the ethical validity of art, sports, technology, and consumerism; FJM gives us songs like Leaving LA, a 13-minute fanged dissection of Los Angeles, that eventually evolves into a ballad of uncomfortable realities and self-degradation. What really stands out, lyrically, in this beast of a track is just how accurate Tillman is in his sharp-tongued analysis of himself. In around the eighth verse of this self-described, “ten verse chorus-less diatribe”, FJM describes the demographics of his fanbase in a depressingly accurate manor, before anticipating that core demographic’s distaste for the new direction he takes his music in. The meta is turned up to a deafening volume on, one of my personal favorites, Ballad of The Dying Man. Ballad of the Dying Man provides a narrative telling of a man on his death bed reflecting upon his life as a whole. The man, in question, is presented as someone who mistakenly sees his social critiques as important to the world as whole; and who spends his dying breaths on Earth bemoaning how the world will miss his genius in a very exaggerated manor. In other words, it’s a satirical social commentary on social commentary. This track provided me a lot to think about and to mull over upon its conclusion; because if the character described in the song were actually a real person, he would ABSOLUTELY be writing his own feelings on Pure Comedy as well. The song as a whole makes me not want to have any structured opinion on Josh Tillman’s work, because that’s exactly what he’d want me to do, man.
Instrumentally, Pure Comedy is Tillman’s most ambitious project yet. The album shows a clear linear evolution of his sound, expounding upon sonic ideas found in songs off of previous projects, like Bored in the USA’s somber piano melody. However, he takes on these thematic elements in a much more complete way, making strong use of horns sections during the climax of songs like the title track. On songs like A Bigger Paper Bag, we see Tillman create this wall of orchestral sounds that, when paired along with his grandiose, yet airy vocals, create a strong juxtaposition with some of his more provocative lyrical ideas. While he does explore new and diverse instrumental themes, he doesn’t stray too far from the kinds of sounds that made his previous effort, I love you, Honeybear so interesting. FJM brings just enough folk and poppy-jazz to keep this album from being a monotonous and depressing trudge.
Pure Comedy is a phenomenal album not only for the way it sounds; but also, because it is so rare for a piece of art to be so aware of its own role in the culture context its released in. Father John Misty as an artist is a figure who we love to discuss, dissect, and deconstruct. And he knows that. And he wants us to know that he knows that. The goal of Pure Comedy isn’t to provide a practical solution to all of FJM’s grievances with the modern world, but rather to provide a space to where we can detach ourselves from the being so invest in the world around us in order to fully appreciate the folly of humanity as a whole.
