Only Son of the Ladies’ Man by Father John Misty
I’m back. I missed you guys. Inertia is a real thing. And a bitch. But I’m back with a Wednesday addition, for reasons that I’ll make clear below.
Two preliminary notes for 2013:
(1) I’m ending the rankings experiment. Much like the presidential election predictions of political “pundits” they were both meaningless and worthless. If I like it, I’ll rec it. If I don’t like it (or am indifferent) and still rec it, it will be for one of three reasons: (a) It’s a band I’ve historically followed, and a newest offering isn’t up to previous snuff; (2) It’s a popular band with a song so unbelievably bad, you have to hear it to believe it; or (b) unfortunately the song has played a part in some ADD-riddled thought experiment that I believe I need to share with you.
(2) I’m about to undertake the Family Tree Project. And as most you know, because of the way my mind works, eventually during the FTP, I will unearth some nugget (or prolly many nuggets) that I’ll have some need to correlate (speciously) with a song and share with you. Consider this my preemptive apology.
January is always rough. Thick malaise. This year I’ve spent January digesting everyone else’s year-end lists. (N.B. Great work from mattneric, 70dayweekend, and eclectic collection. These folks are a lot better at this than I am) (N.B. And I’ve also spent January consuming Steve Hyden’s remarkable The Winners History of Rock and Roll on Grantland.com, which so far is just great. I highly recommend, much like anything Hyden ever writes about music. He’s much better at this than I will ever be.) And I learned how not cool I am, and that no matter how much music I listen to, I will miss great, great shit every year.
And I guess the end of January is a good a time as any to come clean, so I’ll be deploying several choice cuts I’ve missed recently (N.B. Including a few reader reccos).
Regrettably in 2012 I missed Father John Misty, (J. Tillman) a former member of WD favorite Fleet Foxes, and in all ways something I should have listened to in 2012…but I have a good excuse, bear with.
Dr. John (Malcolm John Rebennack, Jr.) is fairly famous and well-regarded New Orleans musician, winner of Grammys and in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. In 2012, WD had never heard of him. Also in 2012, Dr. John released a new album (Locked Down) produced and co-staring The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach. As such, I listened to a couple of pre-release cuts from it. Not bad, but wasn’t for me. Here’s a cut if you’re interested. But after listening to a couple of tracks, I forgot about it. (N.B. Some of it may have had to do with some Black Keys’ overload I’m currently experiencing…more later)
And when I
read glanced over a good review (or several) about Father John Misty and his album Fear Fun released a little later last year…I had Dr. John on the mind. As such I didn’t trouble myself.
My good friend Patterson Hood (DBT) picked this FJM track as his 2012 song of the year, after he’d praised the album all year. So I decided I’d give it another (first) listen. Wow. Hood is on to something, and I really screwed up not listening to this album. This admission is especially damning toward my previously inflated opinion of my musical tastes given that in the past when Hood has recommended something, I’ve busted my ass to get my ears around it (N.B. Shakes, Alabama)
This track is very Fleet Foxes-y. Not as pretty (N.B. Prolly why Hood digs it so much, that and it may actually be a hybrid of FF and DBT) more haunting, but with a folksy and resonant quality to go along with a great (DBT-esq) narrative.
Couldn’t see his used up body at the funeral
By virtue of the flailing of his conquests
They tied down his casket with the garter belt
Each troubled heart was beating in a sequin dress
Someone must console these lonesome daughters
It’s an “on-repeater” for sure. Give it a listen.
If you’re reading this on Thursday because Thursday reading is your typical W.D.M.O., know that I finally got back in the music blogging game on Wednesday night because right now as you’re reading this, WD, Wife, and untold lucky others are rocking their faces off to DBT at Cains….The Rock Show. Where I hope to make up for my failure to heed the recommendation from the genius of the dirt underneath, Patterson Hood, by screaming out the lyrics to all his song with drunken abandon.