A conversation between Tyler and Writers’ Loom contributor Norman.
Tyler: Chloë and the Next 20th Century both opens and closes with a title track. It’s a nifty trick. “Chloë” is the opener, and things conclude about forty-five minutes later with “The Next 20th Century.” Both songs are accomplished in their own eccentric ways––”Chloë” a Tin Pan Alley number that wouldn’t feel out of place next to “Honey Pie”; “20th Century” a cryptic dose of dreamy hypnosis bearing shades of early Leonard Cohen. As bookends go, they make a hell of a pair.
Norman, got any thoughts on either track? Are we looking at a concept here? “Chloë” really announces a mood for what’s to come, I reckon. Not that it sounds anything like any of the other songs––nothing sounds much like anything else on this LP-––but it’s got a sultry late-night vibe to it that I feel carries throughout the album.
“20th Century,” meanwhile, keeps stunning me. “Val Kilmer had a wall-length mirror just over there/Well I’m sure he’s someone else now; he was Batman when he lived here,” man. Talk about some note-perfect lyrical craftsmanship.
Norman: I’ve been following Father John Misty since his first album, Fear Fun, so he’s one of my pantheon artists, the kind of singer who has earned my trust automatically by now. My approach with this new album was to try to stay away from any of the singles so that I could hear the whole thing in one fell swoop. When I turned it on for the first time and listened to “Chloë,” “Honey Pie” is exactly what came to mind and I was not prepared! Father John Misty has never never been a person to push the sonic end of things, or at least that was never what got me listening to him. He’s a gifted lyricist and a wonderful storyteller. He has a knack for melody and humor. But with Chloë and the Next 20th Century, it seems he’s ready to make his Pet Sounds or Sgt. Pepper’s, which is a rite of passage for all good artists. That sense of playfulness has my ears perked up so much that I’m not focusing on the lyrics as much as I would have expected. He’s doing bossa nova on “Olvidado (Otro Momento)” for crying out loud! So while I’ll talk about the lyrics more as we go on, I have to say up front that it’s going to take me a while to settle in with what he’s doing musically.
The opening and closing tracks are as good a place as any to talk about his sonic approach. “Chloë” clues us in to the fact that Misty is going to try whatever he wants to try. “The Next 20th Century,” however, gives us a sense of how big and dramatic he’s willing to go.
What’s your take on the sound of the album? Does it all fit together? Some eclectic albums can work (see: The White Album or London Calling) and some don’t (see: Weezer’s discography from 2000-present). Where does Chloë land?
Tyler: I think the thing hangs together. I also think it’s got just buckets of Nilsson coursing through its veins. “Goodbye Mr. Blue” is a direct descendant of “Everybody’s Talkin'”, and the opening bars of “Chloë” are a distinct throwback to “The Puppy Song,” the jaunty delight that kicks off 1969’s Harry. That’s an eclectic album that works, and so too is Chloë and the Next 20th Century. Hell, when I hear “Buddy’s Rendezvous,” I’m thrown back to George Michael’s “One More Try,” a devastating torch ballad off of Faith––incidentally, another stylistic grab-bag of an album that gets it right.
And, hey, we agree on “Honey Pie,” so we must make a powerful comparison: Paul McCartney. McCartney’s best work is often all over the place, careening from genre to genre––you can hear Paul in “Chloë,” and in the tidy woodwind charts of “Only A Fool.” The work is produced but not overproduced. It’s adventurous.
There’s adventure to be found on Chloë. “Q4” plays with a harpsichord like a cut from Vampire Weekend. “Kiss Me (I Loved You)” and its lonely harmonica line glimmer with Paris-night flair. “We Could Be Strangers” is a light-footed stomp, if such a thing is possible. We could break these tracks down one-by-one and find something individual to celebrate within each of them.
Any particular tracks or sounds stand out for you? As a Misty novice, I’m fascinated to hear that this one is that rite of passage for him. I know I Love You, Honeybear, and I like it, but I can’t speak to any sense of sonic unity through his work––I’m just not familiar with it.
Norman: For individual tracks, I’m in love with “Goodbye, Mr. Blue.” Yeah, it has an “Everybody’s Talkin'” vibe, but I don’t care. For my money, it’s the most moving song on the album. The sense of heartbreak is real––”Love’s always gonna leave ya/no matter what they say/You only know what it is once it’s gone away” is the kind of line that borders on gross sentiment, but Misty pulls it off.
I also really like “Q4.” It’s pretty easy to see why it was chosen as the first single. It’s a real earworm and it’s kind of funny as a critique send-up of the literary world.
Any tracks you don’t like? “Kiss Me (I Loved You) will probably get skipped every time I listen to this album. Whatever they ran his vocals through on that track just kills it. And that’s a shame, because I think it could have been a good song. My ears, however, will not abide. I also can’t get into “Olvidado (Otro Momento).” Bossa nova isn’t my thing and I’m not afraid to admit it.
Tyler: Don’t get me wrong, “Goodbye Mr. Blue” doesn’t suffer a lick for sounding like “Everybody’s Talkin’.” Nilsson wore his influences on his sleeve, and I don’t fault Misty for doing the same. They’re both great tracks.
I’m with you on “Kiss Me (I Loved You),” and am relieved that I’m not losing my hearing and mind. That effect is inexplicable––what were they going for there? An old Gramophone sound? Terrible failure.
“Funny Girl” rubs me the wrong way. It’s one of those put-down songs that reflects worse on the artist than the subject. Side-swiping somebody’s “manic smile” is no way to win sympathy.
To his credit, in “Funny Girl” Misty makes time for a line about “the new live-action Cathy.” Tremendous reference.
Norman: Earlier I asked you if you felt the whole album adds up. After processing it a bit, I’m not sure it does. There are good songs here, but only a few bangers. Misty’s last album, God’s Favorite Customer, was personal and emotionally excruciating. It seems with Chloë and the Next 20th Century, he has retreated from the intensity of more autobiographical writing into something more comfortable but less developed to me. It’s the sound of someone trying too hard. And that’s frustrating as a listener, because Misty’s best work confronts the listener. I mean, this is a guy who opened up SNL with the lines “Bedding Taylor Swift every night inside the Oculus Rift.”
Maybe Chloë and the Next 20th Century will grow on me more. For now it’s a mixed bag.
That said, if you get a chance to see Father John Misty live, do it! I saw him during his tour for Fear Fun back in 2013 or so. He’s a great showman who gives it all on the stage.
Tyler: After a good week or so of regular listening, Chloë still interests me musically. It’s just so damn catchy and impeccably arranged, terrifically listenable. I maintain that it’s a very solid late-night listen
Whether I dig it all lyrically remains to be seen. Misty’s a cryptic wordsmith, and I can’t decide whether I should be empathizing or judging. There are incredible turns of phrase here, but what end do they serve? I’m compelled enough still to keep working out the puzzles. “Funny Girl” makes me a little queasy about where the results will take me, but that Kilmer line gives me hope.
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