Music Review: Father John Misty's 'Mahashmashana' offers cynical, theatrical take on life and death

The title of Father John Misty's sixth studio album, “Mahashmashana,” is a reference to cremation, and the first song proposes “a corpse dance.” Religious overtones mix with the undercurrent of a midlife crisis atop his folk chamber pop. And for those despairing recent events, some lyrics seem topical.

“It’s always the darkest right before the end,” Misty sings on “Screamland,” a power ballad full of desperation and overdriven amplifiers. His advice: “Stay young, get numb, keep dreaming.”

“Screamland” is one of eight songs on “Mahashmashana,” Misty’s jaundiced, smart, cynical, droll, druggy, opaque, arch, theatrical take on life – and death. The album will be released Friday, Nov. 22.

Misty, the stage name for Josh Tillman, describes himself in one song as a windbag. While that’s a bit harsh, the album will delight those who enjoy listening to music with a dictionary.

“Shaken like a pawl fly/obscene as a lick,” Misty sings on the title cut. “Panoply,” “panopticon” and “the Anthropocene” also receive mentions.

Misty can be verbose or concise: Three song titles are complete sentences. Incongruous but colorful couplets come in waves, seeking answers while unsure of the question.

Misty frames his wordsmithery in cinematic rock noir arrangements as dense as the lyrics. A marvelous string section underpins the lush sound, darting and swooping amid thundering drums and a pounding piano.

Tempos tend toward slow, matching Misty’s melodrama. But “She Cleans Up” is delightfully jagged art rock, with slashing guitars and sax, and “I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All” pairs a sweet groove and sour outlook. Characters come and go on the latter tune, but through nine verses the song repeatedly reaches the same rueful conclusion.

The title cut runs even longer, needing nearly 10 minutes for descriptions, such as courtiers “resplendent in donor class panache.” It’s a love story.

So is “Mental Health,” a whimsical ode to insanity with Disney-esque woodwinds and backing vocals. “No one knows you like yourself,” goes one lyric. “You two should speak in the presence of a licensee.”

On “Mahashmashana,” Misty wrestles with a reality that is confounding, off-kilter, even crazy, knowing it won’t end well. Root for him.

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