Father John Misty at The Corner Hotel in Melbourne, 2012
Below is my review of Father John Misty’s Melbourne gig from his first Australian tour. The review was for the Australian events site Everguide, which no longer exists.
When news came that Fleet Foxes drummer Josh Tillman had quit to pursue a solo career it was devastating, for fans it seemed inconceivable that anyone would choose to leave such a band. However, now that we have seen him perform under his recent metamorphosis Father John Misty, we have decided he is forgiven.
The peaceful Joe McKee was first up. McKee’s voice sounds like it has a built-in echo, with each song rising to a crescendo alongside his violinist. Each action was a long and labored process that was almost exhausting to watch, and when he turned his orange guitar on the violinist for a minute for a violin vs. guitar showdown the result was electrifying, but then quick as anything he slowed it back down again until the audience was almost asleep.
Brisbane group Trouble with Templeton was up next right as the venue was starting to fill up. Another softly spoken group, the lead singer was wearing a t-shirt that read ‘Death to Everyone’ which was bemusing on someone so polite and sweet. The vocals were strong though with some nice female backing vocals to compliment the breezy guitar. Halfway through the set, they welcomed a drummer and extra guitarist onto the stage which really livened things up, particularly as the drummer held a kind of jangly octopus instrument over his drums that looked really funny, but whatever its purpose, it was effective.
If the venue had started to fill up before, all of a sudden it was packed to bursting point as all the ladies in the audience made a mad scramble for the front row like worms in compost. Words were exchanged as girls staked their territory (Note: get down early if you want a good spot). Fans held their ears up to the curtain waiting expectantly and when the lights went down the wolf whistles started but cut short when the curtain whipped open and there sat Josh Tillman, a.k.a Father John Misty. Head down and with a cactus patterned jacket over his shoulders, he was a sight to behold, but before the audience could even give some opening applause or pause to contemplate what they were in for Father John Misty had already dragged himself to the mic for the opening lines of ‘Funtimes in Babylon.’
Next up was ‘Only Son of the Ladiesman,’ but something was different, namely that every line accompanied a dance move and therefore was magnified and almost electric with new meaning. This meant even slower song ‘I’m Writing a Novel’ became like a raunchy ballad that you could imagine a burlesque dancer performing to, not that you needed to imagine it because Father John Misty was shaking his hips just as good right in front of our eyes. He used the microphone stand like a pole dancer and after one particularly frenzied moment he looked down to see his shirt had become un-tucked, “Fuck!” he exclaimed, ‘The performance is ruined, who is this slob onstage!?” The audience lapped up the witty banter, the combination of stand up comedian and musician both confusing and exciting all in attendance.
Like every great performer, more was revealed in the songs that even a hundred listens at home could not reveal. Namely song ‘Now I’m Learning to Love the War,’ which really brought out the inner vaudeville act in Tillman, lyrics “all the shipping, the vinyl, the cellophane lining, the high gloss” all being introduced with a *boomtish* and a hip shake. It added another layer to what was already a quite morbid song about over-excess. Tillman danced the sad Salesman dance, so painfully honest to provoke cringing but no one could look away.
Much too soon the dark ‘Hollywood Forever Cemetary Sings’ was starting and the audience finally got the courage to dance along with Tillman. Midway through the song, he ran off stage for a bottle of Jameson, which he proceeded to take long sips from as he writhed around on the floor as if he was trying to shake out demons. If he had offered us a hand, we would have gladly got up on stage to join him.
After the show Tillman casually smoked legal and illegal substances backstage as he chatted with fans, congratulating those who caught on that he finished the set with a Harry Nilsson cover and almost backflipping when someone informed him that The Clash had played at the Corner back in the day. Lamenting his early wake-up call the next day for Splendour in the Grass he moaned, “Six in the morning and I hear it’s going to be muddy there.” “Use the mud in your show!” someone suggested which seemed to cheer him up a bit.
Being so beloved, it must be an odd experience to have the audience react to everything you do as if you are the second coming (Or maybe that is his intention, he is ‘Father’ John Misty after all). Tillman agrees, “I always put that much energy into my performances, I think people want that religious experience, but I know what you mean, a few weeks ago in Chicago the audience was just crazy reacting to everything and I felt really uncomfortable to do anything, like I couldn’t make a joke.” During the set, Tillman had mentioned he was the ‘Canned Ham,’ but it makes once wonder if the opposite is true and that maybe it is the audience’s thirst for the predictability that can never be satiated — at the expense of the artist. Woody Allen tried to make this very point in Stardust Memories and it’s fun to see performers still struggling with the emptiness of fame in a creatively self-destructive way.
