I’ve been spending more time posting over at the other site lately (Fuddge’s bet to write less more is proving hard to shake), but didn’t want to neglect my duties here for too much longer, so thought I’d pop in with a few recs. And since it’s a day that encourages taking a moment to look back to celebrate all our mothers have done for us, thought we could share a little of that shine for a few albums who have done their fair share over the years as well.
First and foremost being Father John Misty’s debut, Fear Fun, which turns ten this year. As described nicely in this article from Stereogum, this marked one of many reinventions by the man behind the mask, Josh Tillman. He’d spent years releasing quieter, darker singer/songwriter style albums as J. Tillman (give Singing Ax a try to start) before leaving that behind to become the drummer for Fleet Foxes right as they began their ascent into indie stardom. In the midst of all that, Tillman decided to blow it all up again, walking away from the fame to assume the persona he’s donned for five albums over the past ten years, that of the aforementioned Misty.
This in turn has spawned several internal recalibrations of which Misty would come to the forefront on the various albums — whether it’s the romance-addled ladies man or exhausting blowhard and know-it-all to now showtune spinning revivalist apparently? — but it’s never been more perfectly in tune than on this debut. Tillman gives us glimpses of those other aspects of his persona here, but they’re never as overblown or insufferable as they can get on those later albums. (This is not to say these subsequent albums are all terrible — I Love You, Honeybear landed at #5 on my list in 2015, while God’s Favorite Customer did the same in 2018.)
It works here because everything isn’t turned up to 11 and Tillman isn’t yet living with his head fully up his own ass — the weariness, the sarcasm, the silly swagger in spite of it all, even the simple admission that every man (including the only son of a ladiesman) needs a companion. It’s lovely and endearing in a way that his later attempts all too often miss the mark on — in large part because the sincerity hasn’t yet shifted to a schtick. He seems to be singing from the heart instead of his overactive (and I would argue overconfident) head and it’s why this remains such a fantastic listen 10 years in.
“Funtimes in Babylon,” “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings,” “Misty’s Nightmares 1 & 2,” and “Well, You Can Do It Without Me” remain classics in his catalog and I vividly remember when I was traveling in Jordan years later and one of the album’s songs strangely (and irrepressibly) came to mind. I was hiking through Petra, admiring the mind-frying beauty on display throughout, as the sun was starting to set. It was a windy day and something about the pitch of the wind’s howl sounded just like the ethereal wail from “This is Sally Hatchet.” Once my mind made that connection, every gust of the wind tearing through the canyon reminded me of that song and I spent the remaining hour or so making my way back to the car with that eerie moan running through my head (the song’s slight hint of danger matching that of the darkening skies). It was a strange connection, but one that felt appropriate in a place so isolated and out of time. Tillman can manifest both these elements to his detriment at times, but when he keeps them in check like he does here he’s unstoppable.
Enjoy that otherworldly wail from one of my faves, “Sally,” here:
Another album that’s gotten a nice retrospective recently is Tricky’s Maxinquaye, which was written about well by Pitchfork. It follows the trend of the previous album in two ways — it was a debut (one which would prove to be even more impossible to follow and match on subsequent outings) and it sounded so original and unique it could have been unearthed at that ancient place in Petra for all we knew. (That latter part is something that did continue on subsequent albums — for better or worse, no one really sounds like Tricky — and when it works (as it so often does here) it’s incredible.) And while the two share those things in common, how this singular achievement came to be was very different.
As noted previously, Tillman had years of experience as a solo act under his belt, which helped inform his pivot to the Misty persona (an homage to the old Seinfeld adage of “if every instinct you have is wrong, just do the opposite” perhaps). Tricky, on the other hand, didn’t have that body of work and muscle memory to rely on (or reject) — aside from hanging around with the Massive Attack lads (first as part of the Wild Bunch and then for the recording of their classic Blue Lines, his contributions being heard most compellingly on the title track with his still sizzling verses) he was a clean slate. Which makes the end product all the more impressive — as the article describes, Tricky was essentially just making it up as he went, chasing the sounds in his head and trying to translate them to record, often to the frustration of those around him.
What he manages to capture is a smoldering, sensual mix, equal parts sexy and sinister that owes no small debt to the interplay between Tricky and Martina Topley-Bird (another neophyte that Tricky plucked off the streets to magical effect). The dynamic between the pair is irresistible, like mixing two volatile chemicals and waiting for the kinetic response. (This was no manufactured studio effect either, but something that spilled over into real life as the two have a child together.) This swirling tension grabs you from the outset and scarcely lets you go, with some absolute hammer blows dealt before the end.
The opening quartet of “Overcome,” “Ponderosa,” “Black Steel,” and “Hell is Around the Corner” cement the album’s impact immediately, casting an almost impossibly high bar to maintain. That the album comes close more often than not is a testament to its quality and why it remains a favorite for fans of this genre nearly 30 years later. (ie trip hop, as administered by giants like Massive, Portishead (who use the same Isaac Hayes sample as “Hell” on their “Glory Box,” sparking the first of many “who did it better” debates between that band and Tricky over the years), and others.) Later tracks like “Aftermath,” “Brand New You’re Retro,” and “Strugglin'” keep the momentum going, but by that point it’s almost all icing.
That opening salvo was enough of a head wrecker to catapult Tricky into the limelight and the plaudits for the album were something he struggled with mightily in the coming years. He increasingly turned to the grittier, more paranoid side of his sound, becoming less embraceable and more insular as the albums wore on. (Pre-Millenium Tension and Nearly God released the following year have several good tracks, but as Topley-Bird left the fold and Tricky navigated things on his own, the songs got rougher sounding and more claustrophobic, suffocating the sensuality and heat that had made his earlier work shine.) Thankfully we’ll always have this one to come back to — check out “Ponderosa,” an absolute mind-melter of a song that I’ve listened to a ton lately (it’s incredible on headphones and substances):
We’ll close with a couple quick hits that’ve been piling up on my browser tabs. First comes a cover from Kevin Morby (whose new album is out soon — get excited!) of the elusive cult-favorite Bill Fay. The Dead Oceans label is doing a series of releases covering old Fay songs and Morby’s is a good one of his “I Hear You Calling.” Morby explained his interest in a statement, saying, “Bill Fay exists as a secret handshake amongst us musicians. Those of us familiar with his body of work are obsessed with it. When I first heard him, years ago, I felt as if I was rediscovering something I had lost and had long been looking for.” It’s an apt description that sums up the found treasure feeling I had years ago when I stumbled on him. I was turned onto Fay thanks to Jeff Tweedy who used to cover Fay’s “Be Not So Fearful” beautifully in some of his solo shows and it remains one of my favorites. Morby’s is a nice addition to the canon and a good reason to go check out Fay if you haven’t already — give it a listen here:
(And just cuz I like you, here’s Tweedy’s version too):
Sticking with the found treasure vibe, Folk Implosion recently surfaced for the first time in 19 years with some new tracks (and the promise of more to come), which was a very pleasant surprise. They still sound the same (another pleasant surprise) so I’m very excited to see what else they turn out. (The Kids soundtrack was obviously excellent, but some of the tracks on One Part Lullaby are pretty great, too, including the smoldering “Kingdom of Lies,” which is a long-time fave.) No word on when the rest of the songs (or album) will be out, but in the meantime we can enjoy the lead single “Don’t Give it Away” here:
(And cuz I can’t help myself, here’s “Kingdom,” too):
Next comes the latest single from Andy Shauf who continues his torrid pace of recording and releases. This time it’s a double single, fronted by the lovely “Satan,” which is a great little tune in spite of the sinister title. No word on whether this is building towards a bigger release or a standalone (Shauf’s surprise EP/LP Wilds landed at #10 on last year’s list) but nothing seems off the table these days, so hopefully he’s got an album coming soon. In the meantime, give the latest one a ride here:
And we’ll close with a longer listen, the recent mini concert that beloved Jesus and Mary Chain did on French TV that I stumbled on now that YouTube serves as my cable. Its magic algorithm suggested it as part of my nightly perusing and I’m glad it did because the boys deliver a pretty fiery set (in spite of the subdued, almost antiseptic surroundings). They sound great throughout, but particularly on their version of “Darklands,” which really jumped out. Give the whole thing a listen and then check out the original underneath. Solid stuff from the stellar Scots.
Until next time, amici…
–BS