In one of the few interviews in recent years, Tillman told Blackbird Spyplane, without going into detail, that becoming a father contributed to his experience of “ego deaths.” The psychotropics probably weren't helping, but they continued Mahamasanamisty channels solipsistic self-horror into a more universal sense of uncertainty, perhaps a pathological inability to reconcile oneself in the so-called “post-truth” era. In “Being You” he sits down for a bad date with a mirror, thinking that “in my memory there's a show called the past,” as if it was never real. The colossally self-indulgent “Mental Health” presents a collection of rogue arguments against the concept: Aren't we just reductively claiming diagnoses as personal identifiers? Isn't paranoid stooping a pretty reasonable position, given the circumstances? It is not necessary to suffer for the art??? Relax, he reminds, not rudely: The panic is in your head.
Here's the setup for Misty's improbable redemption on “Screamland,” a song whose towering wall of sound combines Low's hauntingly sweet pressure with the pop hedonism of “Party in the USA.” These are the mundane references, though: the constructions and big sing-along peaks really remind me of modern Christian rock. Misty's final stand for optimism is a testament to faith with the earnest chorus, “Love Gotta Find a Way.” images of Jesus' baptism, wine and tomb stone. and a question that, once you hear it, seems to come not from a simpleton, but from a supplicant: “How long can you love someone for the weakness they hide?” He doesn't exactly sound hopeful, just faithful – like Lana Del Rey invited him to church.
Is Father John Misty's Christian Era Next? But I'm not interested in speculating about Tillman's personal beliefs, and in any case he seems the self-proclaimed “spiritual” guy. My nagging question about “Screamland” is this: Why does it end like this, so suddenly, like the power has gone out? It's not the last song, but albums don't always work in linear time anymore, and there's a sense, throughout Misty's recent output, that we're living in the desperate final seconds of the doomsday clock. Listening Mahamasanathe recurring image for me is the orchestra playing on the draft deck Titanic. It's brave to choose art, even when—especially when—you have no other choice. What are any of us to do, turn back? When you reach the ground of burning, you must step forward by faith.
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