Under a pen name, country’s most radical act storms back into the picture.
Johnny Blue who? Let’s not kid ourselves, “Passage Du Desir” (named for an alleyway in Paris) is the latest attempt by Sturgill Simpson to set himself apart from the common or garden, run of the mill, Nashville-like country artist. Having pledged to release just five albums under his own name (a pledge somewhat undermined by releasing seven), here he reverts to a nom de plume which acute eyed fans might have noted first appeared in the liner notes to “A Sailor’s Guide To Earth” which contained the motto, “Beware the dread pirate Johnny Blue Skies.” Johnny himself made his recorded debut last year on collaboration with dance artist Diplo on the song ‘Use Me (Brutal Hearts)’.
Advance publicity for “Passage Du Desir” made no attempt to disguise the fact that this was indeed Simpson at the helm but with no advance previews and no drip drop of single releases for public consummation, there was much speculation as to what the album would sound like – a return to “High Top Mountain” like hardcore country or a left-field foray into Diplo like dance trance? Memories of his dystopian heavy rock on “Sound & Fury” allowed that he is pretty much the maverick, unafraid to step out of his comfort zone.
Amidst all this smoke and mirrors, “Passage Du Desir” eventually emerges as an album which fans will probably find well within their own comfort zone, especially if their favourite Simpson album is “Metamodern Sounds In Country Music”. Laden with with sweeping string arrangements and swathes of pedal steel, the eight songs here range from cosmic country to sweet southern soul.
An atmospheric introductory string arrangement leads into the opening song, ‘Swamp of Sadness’, Parisian blues translated into a slow burn of a song with a Muscle Shoals heartbeat behind it. It’s followed by the sweet soul tones of ‘If The Sun Never Rises Again’ with Simpson slipping into a Marvin Gaye-like croon, the song rescued from becoming radio fodder by an incendiary guitar solo. Equally radio friendly is the funkier ‘Scooter Blues’ although it veers perilously towards a Jimmy Buffett-like yacht rock paradise. Midway through the album, Simpson reverts to his original country persona on ‘Who I Am’, a song which reminds one of the Waylon Jennings comparisons made when his first album came out, a thought cemented by the delightful ‘Mint Tea’ which rocks between Appalachia and Nashville.
Central to the album are two lengthy songs which find Simpson pushing the envelope. ‘Jupiter’s Faerie’ comes across as a Jackson Browne-like lamentation while the closing song, ‘One For The Road’, is cinematic in its sweep with its cosmic county pedal steel and swirling guitars commanding the outro on an album which finds the chameleon-like Simpson charging back into the limelight.
It’s five o’clock somewhere.