A lot has already been made of Josh Tillman’s metamorphosis from weepy folk singer to the oversexed showboat known as Father John Misty, so let’s get that part out of the way quickly.
When the artist formerly known as J. Tillman sauntered on stage at the Granada Wednesday night, it was pretty evident he has shed almost every vestige of his past life as a Nick Drake wannabe, even if he still maintains the beard and homeless chic style that helped him fit in neatly for group photos with Fleet Foxes. Not that Tillman needs to respond to any more “folk drummer with facial hair” casting calls.
Folk musicians, at least the kind Tillman used to emulate, don’t seem to have a lot of fun, as a rule. Heartbreak and sad-sackedness are the general m.o. As Father John Misty, Tillman gets to have a blast.
He has help — a six-piece, airtight touring crew who add weight to an excellent collection of songs from this year’s I Love You, Honeybear and the 2012 debut, Fear Fun — but it’s clear who the star of the show is.
Tillman’s hips could put an eye out, and if the slinky dance moves don’t pose enough of an ocular hazard for you, his theatrics with microphone stands and guitars might do the trick. He’s an attention-grabbing performer, charismatic in a sort of Jim Morrison way — after the beard, but before The Doors singer got a bad case of booze bloat.
For the record, Father John Misty is not the Lizard King. To paraphrase a late, great actor pretending to be a late, great writer in an overrated movie, Jim Morrison was a pretentious asshole posing as a poet. Tillman is an asshole, and a poet, but he’s not posing at anything.
That’s the big (two-part) question looming over a Father John Misty show: How much of this is a bit, and is this dude screwing with us?
Tillman and co. will build things up to a revival tent fever pitch in front of a packed, adoring crowd at the Granada. Then Tillman tears down the canvas with a brief jokey prayer (“Lord, I know there are people here struggling with drugs and alcohol” was greeted with a resounding whoop from the audience) that’s so tongue-in-cheek he might as well be licking his uvula.
He performs in front of a glowing neon heart containing the words “No Photography,” he is passive-aggressively funny with someone filming the mini concert film “Father John Misty Banter 04/22/15,” his encore starts with a song that is literally set to a laugh track, and his best lyrics combine a withering sarcasm with soaring emotion.
When Tillman (in my mind, jokingly) asks for a moment of quiet, a surprising number of people start shushing others for their idle chatter or typical concert outbursts. The guy (Tillman, that is) said “Freebird” during a song, and took the time to deconstruct the absurdity of the rock show encore–the band made the unprecedented decision to come back and give Dallas some more after a round of “atta boys” following the main set.
He might be screwing with us, and this is definitely an act.
It also feels entirely genuine, and the act is inseparable from the person making this music: Father John Misty, as they say, contains multitudes. Self-conscious wisecracks and earnest observations about the human spirit can go hand in hand. Irony doesn’t have to be an affectation, it can be part of the package. One of the best, most heartfelt songwriters working today might also happen to be kind of a self-loathing asshole. It’s impossible not to love him for it.
He puts on a hell of a show. Tillman may have his guard up as a natural state of being, but he’s being himself, and that comes across. The performance had a loungey, off-the-cuff feel that was surprisingly intimate. It’s corny, and more than a little cliche to write down, but it was a show where you felt a genuine connection to what was happening on stage.
“The Ideal Husband” burned the house down, and made me think that Tillman ought to try his hand at writing more fast-paced songs. “I Love You, Honeybear,” was touching and featured some of the night’s best dancing. “Bored in the USA” was brilliant, even if I could do without the laugh track.
Tillman, jerk that he is, has figured out the trick of telling a joke and being completely sincere about it.
Bonus things we learned about Josh Tillman during between-song banter and an impromptu Q&A session before the encore.
- He does not use product to groom his beard. Unless it’s angel tears. Or maybe Axe body spray.
- He has nice hips.
- He likes to launch into songs with what sounded a lot to me like a colorful euphemism for making love to a pig. It’s a good line.
