There were a few moments that inspired me to start this blog/website/void into which I scream on a somewhat regular basis. The first of those is one I revisit regularly. It’s a beautiful, haunting, and oddly comforting song about the sheer insignificance of you, your family, and everything and everyone you’ve ever cared about. Have I lost you yet?
It’s not all doom and gloom. It turns out in the end that the people in your life are the only thing that matters, the only thing that ever truly mattered, and that everything will be okay in the end (probably). But you’re still going to die and the sun will eventually explode. Sorry. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Sardonic Songwriting King Father John Misty released Pure Comedy in 2017, a hooooo boy was that the start of some really dark stuff for the world. His lyrics speak to a country that is unraveling at the seams, wherein we idolize the “goons they elected” to rule, as he sings on the title track. Other songs on the album reckon with the increasingly vapid nature of our society, tips he would’ve appreciated before the collapse of capitalism, and how a dying man mourns his lack of social media clout.
I didn’t immediately latch on to it when it came out. Frankly, I thought it was too depressing, particularly after Father John Misty’s marital bliss album I Love You, Honeybear and his post-Fleet Foxes, psychedelic debut Fear Fun. Nine years later, my evaluation has changed a great deal. I’ve been disappointed in the world time and time again, and any remaining trace of naivety I once had is fully, permanently gone. It’s one of my favorite albums precisely because of that darkness, and that winking acknowledgement that things feel pretty fucked when you stop and look around. It was prescient and incredibly timely, because I’ll be goddamned if things aren’t significantly worse today in all of the ways that Father John suggested.
So, why the deep dive on just one song if the whole album rips (and it surely does)? Well, In Twenty Years sums up what it means to be paying attention to the world in 2026: a cocktail of crippling anxiety and simmering rage with absolutely no means to do anything about it. After a brief intro and two minutes of soaring, disgustingly beautiful piano and string arrangements, Father John grabs the mic again and sings:
“Oh I think I read somewhere / That in twenty years / More or less / This human experiment will reach its violent end.”
Damn — that’s pretty bleak. It’s the summation of the 12 preceding tracks, and it paints a dark picture of the United States, the world, and the ways in which the rich and powerful delude the working class as the ice caps melt and we fight over increasingly scarce resources. (Maybe Father John had a notion about large language AI models gobbling up all of the world’s energy and water?)
And then, as we approach the proverbial cliff and prepare to drive off Thelma & Louise-style, “the second drinks arrive.” It’s a stunning twist as Father John looks at his partner while they listen to a cover band play the iconic Talking Heads song, “This Must Be The Place” — and honestly, what other song could it have been?
“But I look at you / As our second drinks arrive / The Piano Player’s playing ‘This Must Be The Place’ / And it’s a miracle to be alive.”
The world is a troubled place in 2026, to state the obvious. But it’s the only home we’ve got, despite what the tech-bro oligarch overlords would have you believe in their quest to build phallic spaceships. It’s up to us to make the most of it and to do our damndest to fight tyranny. Sometimes, that means ignoring the fascists on television and enjoying a cocktail with the people we love.
Follow the Good Tunes for Dark Times Instagram or check out the playlist on Apple Music or Spotify, which is updated regularly (or whenever I get to it, cut me some slack, sheesh).
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