Cut Worms

The Ohio-turned-Brooklyn soft rock act Cut Worms had been touring with Father John Misty for the past several weeks, and Des Moines was their second to last show together. I can at best describe Cut Worms as: nice. If you took a dude from Ohio with shaggy hair and threw him into Pueblo, AZ for like 2 years, then chucked him into Brooklyn for another 15, that’s the kind of music Cut Worms makes. It was nice, it sure was soft indie rock! If you could be so bold as to imagine a group of five dudes in t-shirts and jeans, every one of them possessing locks of hair within that so gentle manipulative chin-to-shoulder length range. I think the moment the first strand of hair grows just slightly past the clavicle, there would be in-fighting and perhaps a coup d’état,. I got the chance to talk with a couple of them at their merch table at the show. I asked why they chose to play a cover of The Velvet Underground’s There She Goes Again, the front-man’s words being that “it’s a good song and we like it.” Fair point lad, cheers. One could argue they were too lost in Val Air sponsored beers for an effective interview by that point. I also had nothing more interesting to ask–my bad!

After stepping outside between sets for a doodle break, I reentered Val Air to find a brand new crowd. Even compared to when the Violent Femmes played there, it was the most packed I had ever seen the venue. Only the greatest inhabitants of Iowa showed up for this event: dudes hauling their man bun burdens, antichrists, eunuch sluts, vegans, low-risk anarchists, and maxi-skirt participants all pooled within that hall to celebrate being an individualistic asshole, together!

Father John Misty

This tour follows the release of FJM’s most recent album, the title is sourced from the Sanskrit word Mahāśmaśāna (महाश्मशान) defined as “great cremation ground, all things going thither.” Mahashmashana oozes an Old Hollywood jazz with wild terrors blended into the soft rock. It navigates themes of mental health and death on a jarring rollercoaster of psychedelic jazz, to sweeping strings, to uptempo rock n’ cowbells. It’s genuine and spiritual in a way that (historically) Father John Misty once tended to subvert.

The stage was just as packed as the crowd. Instruments were crammed in together across the stage, two saxophones, a mellotone, four keyboardly contraptions, a full drum kit, at least six or seven guitars, and one flute squished together against the stage borders. Introduced by a Beach Boys song, all eight musicians walked out on stage into their respective places with a casual air. With a distant wave to the crowd from Father John Misty, and barely a glance between each other, the saxophone queued in, blaring.

All jazz, all rhythm, the ensemble left me astounded. From the first crying tones of I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All, the band played smooth with a perfect balance of light and dark tone. I was so distracted by the ensemble it took a few moments to notice Father John Misty was also singing. The group played by jazz rules, solos taking over while FJM moved in an impossibly smooth dance, suave rolling movements so clean that his jacket and microphone cable flicked along like choreography.

They played the eponymous Mr. Tillman, into a slight emotional intermission during Goodbye Mr. Blue. That song is devastating, it’s the one and only song I have completely blocked out from my music streaming. FJM and the band played it with a very sweet gentleness, with a country twang touching the bitter tang of last times that come too soon. I was still recovering between the songs Nancy From Now and Chateau Lobby No. 4. Both are songs that I adore, but neither me nor FJM were terribly invested in the performance of these, though perhaps for separate reasons.

Over the course of the show, there was a noticeable shift in energy between old and new. Songs from Mahashamana were played with a casual liveliness, relaxed but with a jazzy drive powering through it. They had fun, and felt like the loose destructive indie folk people love FJM for, both the band and Tillman playing with vigor and a practiced energy, but almost dragged through the older songs from his discography. I can’t blame him, this show occurred on the tail following 6 full months of touring the same songs from 2012, setlist.fm reports that he has been counted to play I Love You Honeybear a full 604 God Damned times. It was lovely to hear some of these songs live, Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings and Chateau being an iconic backdrop for many of us sad pretentious suckers for a decade, but I can completely understand being sick of playing the same shit over and over. In all, the full ensemble did an excellent job performing the Mahashamana songs, still having fun and energy following their six months of tour (the oddball She Cleans Up leaving everyone dancing with a cool bounce). I’m excited to see what FJM releases next in the coming years, if he will continue in this jazzy Hollywood direction, and if he will perhaps someday be released from these Honeybear shackles.

I appreciate your composure, dear reader, and your patience for my hyperbolic (frankly unethical) use of hyphenation thus far. That night, I felt freed to live as the most pretentious version of myself. With one hand holding together a notebook precariously leveraged against my (9-U.S.-Dollar) beer, I notated illegible scribbling across my notebook pages. Swatched in the crushed velvets of a new nicotine addiction, I was comforted by the vague gaze of the security guy distracted packing his cheeks with Zyns, as if he were the world’s largest hamster. Despite the lack of a ranting monologue, the thing I had been most praying for, it was still a wonderful show. I felt cradled in that Val Air Ballroom corner by FJM’s smoky voice and the jazz surrounding me, and flowing throughout the crowd into all of the worst versions of ourselves, both acceptance and pretentiousness was embraced between everyone on the floor. Wherever you fell under that tender narcissistic ego-death misandrist-slash-nihilist umbrella, you were welcome under the ballroom lights in Father John Misty’s cradle that evening.

Father John Misty’s tour has since drawn to a close, but will perform at festivals coming up in the next few months in Arizona, California, Idaho, and is featured on the recently announced Primavera Sound 2026 lineup. More information on upcoming events at Val Air and throughout the DSM/Davenport area can be found from First Fleet Concerts here.

The post Father John Misty played “I Love You, Honeybear” for the 602nd time in Des Moines at Val Air Ballroom, October 1. appeared first on KRUI Radio.

“I’m wearing sunglasses atop my acuvue moist lenses indoors for Father John Misty,” Perry joked. “I feel like it’s the attitude he would take.”

After taking a few moments to thank the festival sponsors, Perry briefly reflected upon the history of Mission Creek.

“It’s been ten years since we got this thing started,” he said. “Saying that makes me feel old! Hopefully we’ll be able to keep going in 2016 and beyond. Thank you for growing old with us.”

With Perry’s exit, the crowd immediately began filling the space in front of the stage – in sharp contrast to the more restrained behavior seen at Englert shows earlier in the week. A noticeably higher number of 21-and-over fans were equipped with good-to-guzzle drinking wristbands and craft brews to match. More security guards stood watch than at the Shovels and Rope gig on Friday, or Real Estate’s performance Thursday with the partnership in the store with the latest composite doors bristol for your home .

All signs pointed to the fact that this was going to be a rock show, through and through.

King Tuff, undoubtedly Vermont’s most strapping dudes in denim vests, made a quick entrance beneath multicolored lights and immediately tore into several scrappy numbers from their latest release, Black Moon Spell.

This band has a classic Sub-Pop rock sound – simple, dirty chord progressions and guitar solos that would sound equally at home in a punk club or at a backwoods barn gig. King Tuff himself, Kyle Thomas, has a thin, manic singing voice that belies his stocky, bearded figure. His wild shock of hair is kept in line by a trucker cap emblazoned with the words “ICE CREAM.” He looks like he would fit right in with the cast of Wayne’s World.

“We’ve only been here for a few hours, but I’ve seen some cool stuff in this town,” Thomas said during a break between songs. “Like, a guy on a bike running into a bench. And a dude with least two or three knives on his belt along with a tail. This song is for that guy.”

With that, King Tuff swung into “Staircase of Diamonds,” a glimmering punk ballad and a highlight of the set.

Near 8:00, the Vermontians made their exit. Fans were invited to the King Tuff merchandise table – shrewdly positioned near the men’s restroom and staffed by a young woman dressed like the Wicked Witch of the West.

Ennio Morricone music played as Father John Misty’s equipment was readied. A heart-shaped neon sign cheekily reading “No Photography” hung upon the back curtain, furthering the impression that the Englert had transformed into a late ‘60s Las Vegas nightclub. You might expect to see desert sand, stepping outside.

The neon emblem lit up with a crimson glow as shadowy figures entered the stage one by one, and settled at their respective instruments. As the band waltzed into “I Love You, Honeybear,” a thin man in a black suit danced out to embrace the microphone stand.

This is Father John Misty himself, Joshua Tillman. He has an impressive beard, and moves with a woozy, limber grace. Like a slightly-drunken lounge singer, occasionally pausing to sit cross-legged atop a monitor and croon at the front row.

“I feel like Kermit the frog up here,” he quipped at one point.

Tillman’s deadpan, highly personal storytelling style felt slightly less at home onstage than within headphones, but the singer’s casual charisma and his music’s rich, seven-instrument arrangements more than compensated for any awkward moments. The band marched through Father John Misty’s latest album, I Love You, Honeybear, occasionally letting up while the singer conversed with the crowd.

The show felt like something of a comedy act during these pauses. Tillman of course addressed the fact that it was Easter Sunday, gently poking fun at his own religious upbringing to cheers.

“Any born again Christians here? Well, good. Good for you. But this next song is about something…real.”

Immediately following “When You’re Smiling and Astride Me,” Tillman apologized for the slight.

“Insipid moral relativism usually gets a lot of applause. I prefer to be rude about religion when I don’t have a mic in front of me,” he said. “But when I got out of the church at age 18, the first thing I thought was ‘I won’t have to deal with any more idiots for the rest of my life.’”

Tillman waited for the laughter to die down.

“Of course, I was wrong. God created idiots of all age, gender, and race. He did not discriminate.”

Father John Misty followed his main set with an encore including Tillman’s self-described “nominal internet hit” “Bored in the USA” and a cover of Leonard Cohen’s “I’m Your Man.” The singer capped off the night, and Mission Creek, by climbing down into the pit and embracing his fans one-by-one across the front row. It was the kind of personal touch we’re so often privileged to experience at Iowa City shows. Here’s to many more.

King Tuff’s Black Moon Spell and Father John Misty’s I Love You, Honeybear are available on iTunes. You can read KRUI’s review of Honeybear here. Check out both title tracks below, and thank you for sticking with KRUI during Mission Creek 2015!

The post Mission Creek: Father John Misty @ Englert Theatre, 4/5/15 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

While the majority of Honeybear’s tracks have a classic folk-rock sound supplemented by modern production, “True Affection” goes full-electronic. Tillman’s words reject digital communication in favor of physical intimacy, carrying the promise that a lover’s affection is more tangible in person than online.

You can listen to “True Affection” below, and purchase I Love You, Honeybear at iTunes. And be sure to grab tickets to see Father John Misty, Sunday, at Mission Creek Festival!

The post Track of the Week: “True Affection” by Father John Misty appeared first on KRUI Radio.

By his own humble admission, the 33-year-old was never going to stick with drumming for long – Tillman has in fact been writing and playing his own songs on guitar since high school. I Love You, Honeybear is his eleventh full-length album, and his second as Father John Misty.

Honeybear is a surprisingly intimate look into Tillman’s relationship with his wife, Emma. His nitty-gritty lyrics sometimes tip toward cartoonish vulgarity, but the music’s lush, folksy quality and Tillman’s whiskey-soaked vocals strike a pleasant tone throughout.

Sexual honesty is prevalent from the title track, which details the staining of “the Rorschach sheets where we make love” to a serene psychedelic-folk waltz. Drug use and talk of demonic conception are also featured, making you wonder just how deep Tillman’s tongue is dug into his cheek on this one.

“Chateau Lobby #4 (in C for Two Virgins)” and “True Affection” are two remarkably different early highlights. “Chateau” is a gently galloping ode to the giddiness of young love. Here we begin to get a disarmingly real picture of the Tillmans’ relationship – one that isn’t spattered with body fluids: “first time, you let me stay the night despite your own rules/you took off early to go cheat your way through film school/you left a note in your perfect script: ‘stay as long as you want’/I haven’t left your bed since.”

“True Affection” is a completely unexpected injection of cool electronica; a take down of digital communication’s impersonal nature. Tillman’s versatility as a musician really shines through on this track, which complements the other songs conceptually despite its outward musical differences.

Honeybear’s biggest surprise is “True Affection,” but as a whole the album is an exquisitely well-written, refreshingly honest entry in the overcrowded (overbearded?) modern folk-pop roster. Tales of unwanted come-ons at seedy bars (“Nothing Good Ever Happens At The Goddamn Thirsty Crow”) and middle-class, white-bread ennui (“Bored in the USA”) work to expand the lyrical confines beyond the story of the Tillmans and the love they’ve cultivated, but the Father never abandons his record’s conceptual heart.

Assuming the listener is of legal drinking age, this is one for a Sunday night – whiskey close at hand.

You can purchase I Love You, Honeybear on iTunes.

And even better, you can see Father John Misty yourself at Iowa City’s Mission Creek Festival! Buy tickets for the April 5th show here.

The post Album Review: I Love You, Honeybear by Father John Misty appeared first on KRUI Radio.