FATHER JOHN MISTY IS — IN THE best possible way — kind of a throwback. For one thing, there’s the stage name, which could have belonged to a gospel hollerer or a folk troubadour from any time in the mid-1900s. Then there’s the beard, which is full and luxuriant and ever so seventies. And the attitude: laconic, barbed, not quite kind.
Also, obviously, the music. FJM (it feels weird to call him “Misty”; his real name is Josh Tillman) makes records that have an acoustic warmth you might hear on a decades-old 12-inch discovered in a charity shop, bought on the strength of its battered sleeve and fallen in love with on first listen. Only occasional electronica flourishes and a few of his lyrical pre-occupations give his true era away.…
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The Critic (Digital) - 1 Issue, March 2025