Can I know Johnny without knowing Sturgill?
Sturgill Simpson has been one of the biggest names in alt-country for the last few years, whether he wanted to be or not. But for one reason or another, I’ve never completely fallen into Sturgill’s world, I’ve known of him, I’ve heard some of his biggest songs, but haven’t spent much time with the guy. So as his new album and new persona was released, it begged the question: Can I know Johnny without knowing Sturgill?
As far as I understand, Sturgill’s first five albums make up a single narrative, one as long and winding as a road trip into the cosmos. He’s dipped into sounds of country, rock, folk, R&B, blues and bluegrass (apparently his 2 bluegrass albums don’t fit into the Sturgill narrative) just to name a few. The original five-album narrative was all Sturgill ever promised, so perhaps its unsurprising that he returned to the world with a laid-back, Parisian-tinted, reflective character – one that apparently loves the beach. Passage Du Desir was a step into what was a new world for both Johnny Blue Skies and me, an eight-track album that is seemingly as resistant to categorisation as Sturgill was – that’s my kind of album.
Lyrically, Passage Du Desir is as diverse as it is sonically. Some of it deeply personal yet universally accessible, some of it written with a simplistic genius. With Johnny leaving Sturgill behind, he took the opportunity to try something new, but he seems to ask a lot more questions than he does answer them. His new identity – lyrically at least – doesn’t feel all that assured. Many of the tracks see Johnny asking the big questions to the universe, the sea, and the people around him, whether it’s ‘why can’t the dream go on forever?’ or pointing out that ‘they don’t tell you when you die it’s all a sham.’ A few of his questions have age old answers through: ‘All this back and forth got me spinnin' in my head/It's got me bounded up and blind, what can I do?’, the answer: ‘being next to you’ – it’s sweet.
Sonically, on the other hand, there was no confidence lost in the name change. There’s a kind of seamless ease of transition between the varying sounds of each track that tie them all together. The sexy soft-rock of ‘If The Sun Never Rises Again’ is immediately one of the coolest songs I’ve heard in a while. The beachy, tropical almost Jimmy Buffett-esque sound of ‘Scooter Blues’ kicks off with an opening reminiscent of the Dirt Band’s ‘Fishin in the Dark’ and leaves you longing for the beach and a beer. It doesn’t let up on the ever-present self-investigating though, as he sings ‘When people say, ‘Are you him?’ I’ll say, ‘Not anymore.’’ Maybe ‘Scooter Blues’ is what you’d get if someone like Kenny Chesney could write a little better and think a little deeper. The almost overwhelmingly grand production of ‘Jupiter’s Faerie’ with its ethereal background vocals, piano, strings and steady percussion is perhaps the centrepiece of the album. The song is a tribute to a lost friend and everything about it is incredibly moving, a seven-minute epic that grows and grows with pain and passion until its subdued piano closing.
‘Who I Am’ might reflect the purpose of the whole album, and maybe even the purpose of Johnny Blue Skies. ‘They don’t ask you what your name is when you get up to heaven, and thank God, I couldn’t tell Her if I had to who I am.’ The song is three minutes of self-reflection backed by pedal-steel and blues guitar – outlaw country at its finest. However, lyrics like ‘And that old radio still won't play me’ suggest that Sturgill might not be dead per say, more of a ghost of the past that won’t completely be leaving Johnny any time soon, he’ll be haunted by the same artistic entanglements for a little while longer.
So, can I know Johnny without knowing Sturgill? Well, I now know Johnny is a beautiful songwriter, a playful lyricist, a killer guitarist, a wandering soul, and an artist that defies genre restrictions. I’m guessing Sturgill will be the same, but I can’t wait to get to know him too. Passage Du Desir might hold you in its present for its almost 42-minute run time, but it’ll leave you wanting to know the man that led to Johnny Blue Skies, you’ll want to know the musical past that makes up Sturgill Simpson too.
Undeniably, Passage Du Desir is ‘One For The Road’.
