Earlier this year, little blips on social media had me under the impression that new music was on the way from Father John Misty. When the Greatest Hits record was announced that featured a new single, I dismissed any further expectations that we’d see more music anytime soon, much less within the same calendar year. I found the follow up announcement of a full length LP quite the surprise. Won’t find me complaining, as Mahashmashana satisfies an itch with which I’d decided to simply live.

I came for the bite. Tillman’s scathing criticism laid out in lyrical observation brought me to the table with his 2017 record, Pure Comedy, yet I stayed for love songs capable of moving me. The crossroads of those two topics are a profound return to form that is comforting…and yet this direction feels like a place I haven’t been before.

The songwriting platitudes of indie folk-rock coupled with the smooth sensibilities of 70s pop comes at an intersection where Tillman shines brightest in spite of the often bleak lyrical content. It’s the juxtaposition of his bleakness with the relatable warmth of love and enduring curiosity that encompasses an experience that is both magical and true to life in the same moment.

The opening track, Mahashmashana, speaks on romance where one lover has passed away. Our subject is said to visit her lover twice a week, yet it took me a couple listens to understand her visits were to mahashmashana, which roughly translates to ‘great cremation ground.’ The conclusion of this song brings me to tears, as contemplating the finality of all things becomes a weight that presses me for an emotional reaction. To hear Tillman describe that, “They have gone the way of all flesh/And what was found is lost/Yes it is…” is a sentiment that has overwhelmed me more than once.

The instrumental composition of Josh Tillman and the Accidental Dose offers remarkable movements, as dynamics are used in the mix to highlight the uncertainty that accompanies the use of hallucinogens. In a performative style that reminds one of Lou Reed, Tillman admits that he “was treating acid with anxiety.” It terms of musicality and overall flow, it may be my favorite song on the record.

One such complication that comes with the territory of hallucinogenic drug use is one of self-reflection that can result in growth, but often offers little more than lost innocence. At the conclusion of this track, Tillman states, “I ate an ice cream/dazed in the street/but it never tastes quite as sweet/again…” This imagery and realization of time having passed and something lost (ice cream reflecting innocence of youth?) is a daunting thing to consider when I was once convinced I’d live forever.

I learned a new word while listening to Mental Health. A panopticon is, “a prison design concept created by J. Bentham in the 1700s (that) places prisoners’ cells around the outside of a circular design with a guard tower in the center.” This description of a particular style of prison then narrows focus to reveal the entire prison is…you. The question of identity and individual purpose is presented with music that feels like a sonic throwback to the theatrical heights of the 2022 record, Chloe and the Next 20^th Century. The reflection, “The one regret that’s really pretty tough/Is knowing I didn’t go nearly far enough” enshrines the mood swing of an accomplished artist who feels it’s never quite satisfying, “For the true endeavor of your soul/To find the edge and, baby, go, go, go.” Our collective experiences in a hyper-individualistic culture are examined here in a way that reveals as much about you as it does about myself.

The final song, Summer’s Gone, breaks my heart with each listen, and reconfigures it with the healing properties of gratitude that comes with memory. It’s difficult to reconcile with the notion that, “against your will comes wisdom/and forty more years left ahead.” But the conclusion is so wonderful, as we pivot to some kind of hope…some optimism for having the memory at all, “but you eat a peach/or you skin your knee/and time can’t touch me.” That final line emerges from the tragic weight of what has been lost, and pushes back against the reflections made in the song about eating acid and ice cream. From this final moment I find myself suddenly grateful for every memory upon which I can reflect. The ice cream was wonderful…the sun that warmed me was beautiful…and the time we shared…all memories to be cherished while I still possess the faculties to remember. The highlights of memory…the peaks we chase…whether it’s the embrace of a lover, or the taste of an ice cream we had in youth…the impact lingers, and while memory informs us that it just isn’t like it was before, maybe that’s the veil of youth over our early experiences…I’m not sure anymore, but I am confident that because it must end, life is worth living…even if summer is gone and all that keeps me warm now are the memories of a life I appreciate.

Mahashmashana is my favorite record of 2024. A combination of the various musical strategies Tillman has applied to his songwriting over the years, there’s nothing here that feels stale or recycled. From compositions to lyrical content, may Tillman never peak. This record is worth a spin.