{"id":1549361,"date":"2026-03-05T10:00:02","date_gmt":"2026-03-05T15:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/consequence.net\/?p=1549361"},"modified":"2026-03-05T11:05:37","modified_gmt":"2026-03-05T16:05:37","slug":"sturgill-simpson-dances-on-americas-grave-on-johnny-blue-skies-album-mutiny-after-midnight-review","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/consequence.net\/2026\/03\/sturgill-simpson-dances-on-americas-grave-on-johnny-blue-skies-album-mutiny-after-midnight-review\/","title":{"rendered":"Sturgill Simpson Dances on America’s Grave on Johnny Blue Skies Album Mutiny After Midnight: Review"},"content":{"rendered":"

Mutiny After Midnight<\/a>, <\/em>the new album from Sturgill Simpson<\/a> under his pseudonym Johnny Blue Skies, is neatly divided into songs about fucking and songs about how America is fucked.<\/p>\n

Alongside backing band The Dark Clouds, the album finds Johnny Blue Skies venturing further and further from Simpson’s alt-country roots. 2024’s Passage du Desir<\/a> <\/em>indulged his psych-rock side, while Mutiny After Midnight <\/em>is here to dance: dancing in the club, dancing between the sheets (sometimes in explicit detail), dancing on America’s grave.<\/p>\n

“Make America Fuk Again” sets the tone. The opener blends all of these impulses into a rip of blue-eyed funk, inspired by Earth, Wind and Fire and the velvety tones of Steely Dan. Simpson is clearly having fun, as when he boasts that “I got that Hunter Biden energy\/ I’ll make a hooker fuck around and fall in love.” But he’s also seething with anger, and the chorus features him crying, “Wanna make America not suck again\/ Wanna start a revolution, watch it begin.” If the White House burns down, Mr. Blue Skies will be the first one to stand up and groove.<\/p>\n

On “Make America Fuk Again” it works. But sometimes these twin goals — rumba in the bedroom, cha-cha for change — can lead to lyrical whiplash. “Excited Delirium” is an upbeat protest song with viscerally upsetting words. Over a chord progression that would make Jerry Lee Lewis boogie down, Simpson sings,<\/p>\n

“I can’t breathe and I’m turning blue<\/em>
\nWhat’s the problem, what did I do?<\/em>
\nI can not cooperate if you don’t want me to<\/em>
\nI hear you screaming telling me to get down<\/em>
\nI hear you telling me not to resist<\/em>
\nHard to move with your knee on my neck<\/em>
\nHard to have a conversation with 14 fists” <\/em><\/p>\n

It’s almost too effective. After these words against police or ICE brutality, it can be hard to get in the mood for the physical romance of “Don’t Let Go.” Weren’t we just asking our oppressors to literally let go?<\/p>\n

Not that there’s anything wrong with “Don’t Let Go,” or the even more sensual “Stay on That.”  The former injects honky tonk into a long-term romance, with Simpson just as smitten as ever. And “Stay on That” finds them consummating their love in graphically physical terms: “Stay on that D, baby, ’til you hit that G.” Throughout, the music flows seamlessly from romance to revolution, choking immigrants to ‘choke me, Daddy.’ But unsuspecting listeners might struggle to stay in the mood when the mood undergoes such violent changes. Like armed revolt and dirty talk, Mutiny After Midnight <\/em>won’t be for everyone, but the people who get it will be all in.<\/p>\n

The album title hints at the thread connecting these modes: as activities best done in the dark. The second Johnny Blue Skies project is about the things that keep him up at night, with an overstimulation so frantic he has to do something right fucking now.<\/em> Perhaps that’s why Mutiny After Midnight <\/em>feels shorter than its 45 minute runtime, even if it’s a little light on true earworms you can’t get out of your head; Simpson’s urgency is infectious.<\/p>\n

Side One ends with Simpson falling into his lover’s “Viridescent” eyes (a calmer person would have called them green, but horniness turns the simplest man into a poet). And from there, Side Two goes on a loving little run, with “Situation” bringing back the double-entendres (“Just let me be your lollipop, taste that sweet sensation”) and also regular-old single-entendres (“Wanna get you wet, wanna make you sweat”). Simpson follows this with “Venus,” pure worship in the form of a throwback boogie.<\/p>\n

But lest you forget that Simpson is both a lover and a fighter, Mutiny After Midnight <\/em>ends on a reflective rage. This final burst begins with “Everyone Is Welcome” and its deceptively optimistic title. After registering a life of “Paying taxes and living in fear,” Simpson falls into nihilism on the hook: “Nothing matters anymore, didn’t you hear?\/ Everyone is welcome to drown here.”<\/p>\n

The last dance plays out to “Ain’t That a Bitch,” and the grooves disguise a towering fury.  It opens with a shot at President Trump — “Spend all our time watching a bad cartoon\/ In a ill-fitting suit grabbing women by the poon” — and the anger only grows. Simpson blasts oligarchs, court-stacking schemes, an administration that puts “babies in cages,” and the apparent collapse of democracy, leading to a roar of, “How the hell are all these guys not in jail for treason?”<\/p>\n

Mutiny After Midnight <\/em>doesn’t have the answers. The album ends with the sound of a needle bumping over the inner grooves of a record, as if, after a night of riotous expression, the person tending the record player has finally collapsed.<\/p>\n

The project is messy and intentional and overflowing with stimulation. The record doesn’t care if you can’t keep up with its whiplash, because Simpson couldn’t slow down long enough to wait for you.<\/p>\n