Fishbulb Challenge #3: I'm Writing a Blog Post

Apologies for the unscheduled hiatus. What follows is a review several months in the making. I wrote much of it in the late summer and then neglected it for weeks at a time. However, part of what I tried to get across has been incubating in the back of mind the whole time. 

It turns out, the things that make it difficult me to write about Fear Fun (and music in general) can be extrapolated to other problems in my life: 

• I don't want to commit myself to a single opinion on anything. 
• I want to be able to transform myself at a whim, even if I don't change anything for long periods of time.
• I want deeply to be understood, but I don't want people to be able use anything I say against me.
• Despite my best efforts, whenever I talk about an idea, I can only provide my audience a fleeting glimpse of what I'm trying to say.

Everyone's thoughts on anything are fluid and live only from moment to moment. We create the illusion for ourselves that we have concrete, unwavering tastes and aesthetics. The obvious reality is our ideas about anything subtly evolve over time. This is exacerbated by the seeming permanency of writing my thoughts out.

Recently, I realized that the same anxiety must be felt by musicians committing their songs to record. They're surely aware that what sounds new and fresh today will likely seemed dated and cliche in a decade. Additionally, records can only capture a snapshot of an artist's sound at a moment in time, just like this review can only capture a snapshot of my opinion on Fear Fun. I have to learn to accept this caveat. If I wrote this review 10 years from now, it surely would have evolved; just like if Father John Misty played the songs from Fear Fun 10 years from now, he would be playing them as a different person, putting a different spin on each song.

Without further procrastinatory self-reflection, as requested by IronFishLantern, my review of Fear Fun by Father John Misty.

Pretty straightforward album cover.

Most people, at some point in their lives, will feel the need to reinvent themselves. This is especially true regarding creative individuals. Whether it's due to changing personal relationships, necessity, or ennui, it's common for people to reach a point in their lives where they need to make a clean break.

J. Tillman had a relatively successful career as a musician. His solo career as a neo-folk songsmith had garnered a cult following that most bedroom wannabe-rock stars would covet. This success was multiplied exponentially when he joined the Fleet Foxes as their drummer in 2008. Tillman would be the first one to downplay his role in the Fleet Foxes: "People have really exaggerated my involvement with Fleet Foxes; they had two records done by the time I joined the band and the writing was already on the wall that they were going to be the next big thing. I just learned the drum parts for their songs and tried to execute them as best as I could."

This unwillingness to fall ass-backwards into indie stardom would be demonstrated when Tillman left the Fleet Foxes in January 2012. Refusing to make it easy on himself, Tillman proceeded to alienate the cult following that his wistful solo work had cultivated over the years. After a particularly revelatory cross-country mushroom trip (we've all been there), Tillman sketched the outline for his then forthcoming album Fear Fun which he would release under his new persona: Father John Misty.

Fear Fun is a major departure from his previous work as J. Tillman. No longer feeling connected to the songs he was writing, Tillman knew he had to make an artistic change. As Father John Misty, he eschewed his usual crowd-pleasing "mournful wizard" lyrics and started to tap until a previously ignored aspect of his personality. Where J. Tillman was prone to dwelling on lost loves, Father John Misty was on the look out for the next party and his next sexual conquest. While die hard fans of his older work were undoubtedly outraged at his new "superficial" direction, as a new listener, I was intrigued by his honesty. 

Far from shallow and vain, I found Father John Misty to be surprisingly self-aware (often a positive side-effect of examining one's life through the fungal lens). He's acutely cognizant of his vices and faults, often with a subtle sense of humor. Usually, when someone is able to write accurately about themselves, they produce something that is simultaneously very relatable to others.

Most guys can probably relate to the simple, crude genius of the line"You came, I think" in "Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings". The manic, stream of consciousness babble of "I'm Writing a Novel" transports me back to wild nights, where my thoughts raced with similar frenzy. Even now, as I'm writing this review, re-listening to the album, a few verses from "Everyman Needs a Companion" seem to touch on the aforementioned impermanence of ideas, music, and people in general:

Joseph Campbell and The Rolling Stones
Couldn't give me a myth
So I had to write my own
Like I'm hung up on religion
Though I know it's a waste
I never liked the name Joshua
I got tired of J

FJM has clearly become bored with his coven of sexy witches.

Despite being overly aware of the transitory nature of all things, sometimes it's important to simply bite the bullet of self-imposed permanence: write the review, record the album, commit to your lover. In time, variables will change. What once seemed like a good idea may be regrettable in hindsight. But, at least by leaving these markers in stone, you will one day be able to look back and see a clearer picture of the path that brought you to where you are.

Final Score: .67 Animals