Music | Sturgill Simpson, Honky Tonk Shaman, Stickin’ it Straight up Nashville’s Ass
Photos & story by Ashley M. Halligan
I must admit, when Sir Sturgill first came ‘cross my soundwaves, I thought I’d somehow overlooked one of the honky tonk forefathers all these years. How had I not heard this jack-of-all-old-school-country-mastery till now? The Merle Haggard storyteller meets those deep Randy Travis vocals meets Texas Hill Country for a campfire pickin’ sesh—and after further listening—probably throws back a few caps and stems while he’s at it. Who the hell was this guy?
I first stumbled across Metamodern Sounds in Country Music [2014] late last year. Always seeking out authentic country for my frequent Texas roadtrips, Sturgill quickly became the bee’s knees, regularly rockin’ max volume through my VW’s grateful Fenders. I was in love. And it wasn’t long before I knew both MSCM and High Top Mountain [2013] cover-to-cover. Among countless country miles, I sang my heart out {and cried it out a little, too}, danced my ass off, and joyously welcomed Texas spring...with the throttle to ten on that {hedonistic} railroad of sin.
Once I realized Sturgill was a relatively new wide-brimmed hat in country music and not a forefather—nor a Texan, for that matter—I was even more intrigued.
While honky tonk origins often celebrate the bottle and the pipe and even Jesus, Sturgill’s wisdom and life perspectives may be a bit more evolved, if you will. Unlike classic country’s common themes, some of Sturgill’s lyrics focus on the profound and the psychedelic, advocating for {or at least freely singing about} the life-altering impacts of dimethyltryptamine {DMT}, among other psychedelics. In his beautiful, can’t-help-but-sing-along track “Turtles All The Way Down,” his song speaks from the soul:
“There's a gateway in our mind that leads somewhere out there beyond this plane /
Where reptile aliens made of light cut you open and pull out all your pain /
Tell me how you make illegal something that we all make in our brain /
Some say you might go crazy but then again it might make you go sane /
Every time I take a look inside inside that old and fabled book /
I'm blinded and reminded of the pain caused by some old man in the sky /
Marijuana, LSD, psilocybin, and DMT they all changed the way I see /
But love's the only thing that ever saved my life.“
When I first heard this track, I centered on the “turtles all the way down” theme, wondering what that must be a metaphor for. I curiously delved into the history of the phrase, finding that the story stems from a conversation between a Harvard scientist preaching the literality of cosmology and a little old lady seeking infinite possibility, who believed Earth rested upon a turtle’s shell—and each of those turtles upon another turtle—all the way down. I’ll buy into that.
Upon further contemplation of that metaphor alongside Sturgill’s other lyrics, I decided his songs are very much mandalic—demonstrating the circular, ever-symbolic connectedness of all things in life. I thought, “Well, hot damn, we’ve got a real badass honky tonk shaman on our hands, boys and girls.” I also agree with him: While all that psychedelic experimentation will shift the hell out of how you perceive, relate to, and understand life—love, both self-love and intimate love, may be the only thing that’ll ever really save your life.
His deep, wise vocals resonate a sound and message far before his time. And, frankly, I think {and Texans certainly agree} he belongs here. After all, he’s sold out every show he’s played in Austin since his December 30 show, with ease and a damn fine twang. Last week alone he played three shows—two on the legendary Stubb’s stage and even rocked a highly sought-after taping at ACL Live. Now that says something—in Austin that speaks numbers.
Austin may be a springboard for rising talent, but said talent, especially out-of-towners, often play a slew of hole-in-the-wall stages before ever making it to Stubb’s—particularly as a headliner—and only legends land a taping. And that’s precisely the energy Sturgill felt {and brought} on the first night of his sold out Stubb’s shows.
Perhaps the most modest stage setup I’ve ever seen at Stubb’s, Sturgill’s show wasn’t overly produced. In fact, it was barely produced. Beyond a couple of wooden platforms to elevate his band, it was just Sturgill and his fellas {and a few lights}. While I appreciate a good production, I equally appreciate a show that needs no production. Between that soul-igniting steel guitar, deep and raw vocals, and a proper acoustic environment, Austin got all that it needed and far more than it asked for that night.
Sturgill and his band weaved in and out of their collection of tracks, including those you can’t help but shake a leg to and those you can’t help but just sway and sing along with. A Tennessee-native, he was glowing on stage, playfully referencing a SX show some time ago where he played for a crowd of maybe 10 at a much smaller venue, and with that sweet Southern accent and rowdy country boy mischief, he thanked the audience, saying we {Austinites} “stuck it straight up Nashville’s ass!”
Austinites are no strangers to live music; yet still, a week later, Sturgill is the word on the street. And I agree. Hands down, it was one of the finest shows {of any genre} I’ve seen in this city. And I cannot wait to see him again. Come on back now, Sturgill, ya hear?
