Father John Misty Sings a Funeral Dirge for Humanity on ‘Mahashmashana’

Every Father John Misty album begins with an end. His past tracks have all concerned death in some manner — and his latest album details the end of time itself.

“Mahashmashana” is its name, meaning “great cremation ground” in Sanskrit, according to the album’s description. The album is officially out Nov. 22, but fans have had access to it for months, after several in-person and online listening parties.

The opening and title track wastes no time crashing in, a drumroll introducing overwhelming cinematic strings and brass. The instrumental immediately sets Misty’s tragic-yet-beautiful tone and establishes the album as a step forward in his artistry.

“Mahashmashana / All is silent now / And in the next universal dawn,” Misty sings, heralding the end.

Misty, known for his sardonic portrayals of humanity’s downfall, sounds genuinely troubled by what he sings. Misty’s no stranger to the worsening state of humanity, but reality is setting in.

“A perfect lie can live forever / The truth don’t fare as well / It isn’t perched on lips mid-laughter / it ain’t the kind of thing you tell,” Misty sings, his voice cracking with despair. 

An artist who has spent his career trying to capture the sound of the apocalypse, Misty has finally succeeded. It’s a career-defining opus — but it’s only the first track.

“She Cleans Up” takes a hard left turn — in the right direction.

The song captures a Misty-stylerock song in full. He’s skirted around the genre before, like in songs “I’m Writing A Novel” and “Hangout at the Gallows,” but never fully delved in. “She Cleans Up” is a full-throttle banger with infinite replayability. 

“Use your discretion so I don’t have to use mine / I spent a hundred bucks on gas / Baby let’s just have a good time,” Misty sings, both nonchalant and tripping over himself with speed.

“Josh Tillman and the Accidental Dose” is an ode to another Misty tradition — including at least one song per album about tripping on acid.

The song begins with ragtime piano warping and bending with out-of-tune strings coming and going in the blink of an eye, mimicking Misty’s trip, but grounding itself on an old Western piano riff.

“Mental Health” invokes an old Hollywood romance movie, with glamourous strings and flutes floating around Misty’s soft voice. Misty monologues about identity and virtues, familiar topics to him, but the song takes a turn at the end.

“One regret that’s really pretty tough / Is knowing I didn’t go nearly far enough,” Misty sings despairingly, almost yelling in an unprecedented show of emotion.

Despite the varying topics of each song, they’re each a reaction to what Misty believes is the coming end of the world. It plagues him, and the music, setting the tone of a final act.

Although Misty is known for being a master of irony, “Screamland” is an uncharacteristically unsuccessful attempt.

Calling it a “mutilated hillsong kind of thing,” the song drastically shifts from quiet, graceful verses laden with intricate religious imagery to a blown-out, violent chorus filled with unusually plain lyrics.

“Stay young / Get numb / Keep dreaming / Screamland,” Misty sings, yelling over the cacophonous static of the instrumental. 

“Being You” is a twin to “Mental Health,” a cinematic, string-centric ballad also concerning identity. The chorus features Misty and the strings in a mesmerizing call-and-response, mirroring the nostalgic lyrics.

“In my memory / Is a show I call the past / I watch and decide just what I would do next,” Misty sings dreamily.

“I Guess Time Just Makes Fools Of Us All,” the album’s first single, takes the ragtime atmosphere of  “Josh Tillman and the Accidental Dose” and dials it up to 11. Jazzy, upbeat brass propel Misty’s nearly-nine-minute epic as he playfully dances on top of them, spewing sardonic comments about humanity.

“Summer’s Gone” is the end of the end, a final, peaceful ode to Misty’s past, again invoking the nostalgic, cinematic tone of “Mental Health” and “Being You.”

“I drive around the city / The place I knew is gone” Misty sings wistfully, invoking the apocalypse again. 

Misty draws upon even himself by referencing his debut album “Fear Fun” and its opening track “Funtimes in Babylon.” A mention of a peach also mirrors “Smoochie” from “Pure Comedy,” wrapping up an album full of personal references. But for the last line, Misty looks forward.

“Time can’t touch me,” Misty sings mysteriously, ending the album with a sigh and a wink into the camera.

“Mahashmashana” is Father John Misty — sonically, lyrically and characteristically. It’s Misty getting everything off his chest before the end, before we realize our shared tragic fate — the burial ground.

“Mahashmashana” will be available to stream everywhere Nov. 22.

This article was edited Nov. 13.