Look, I don't wanna sound like he's my buddy nor are the guys in the band. Because, that just isn't the case. But I did do a short run with Sturgill and his band a while back. I was still driving entertainer coaches at the time. The run was such that I had opportunity to see them perform a number of times. I'd not see a performer like this in a while and often I felt humbled personally and as a fan in his midst. An extremely humble fella, what I derived was the guy must have come from good stock. It certainly didn't hurt that the man served in the U.S. Navy as I had.
Watching performers I've toured with usually isn't without remark. Yeah, they play, sing or perform well. But hell, there are just so many performers out there....Not many stand out, above and over the din of others. Sure in my line of work I am privy and privileged to sit with, next to or across the table for a meal with these folks. Sure, I've got stories about this one or that one. So long as you know, they are for me and not for prying ears and or eyes that just wanna know something. After all, their human beings like you and I. Sure some are not, and I suppose that is as a result of their perceived level of importance, fame or cultural significance they feel they've earned.
I digress; there was an experience at Red Rocks Amphitheater that remains etched forever in my memory banks. No, it had nothing to do with this fella or the organ player or Little Joe his prodigious
guitar player or anyone at all in fact. It was that culmination of experiences. I didn't sit and have long or medium conversations with Sturgill, heck if anything I made the poor fella uncomfortable as I referred to him as "Boss." Who knew?
But I'd been that fly on the wall, discussions with he and members of the band about the construct of a particular part of a song. Or his conveyance of his emotion or point of that part to further craft the theater of the listeners mind. So with that fly on the wall stuff in my head, and trust me when I say that I'm eternally grateful to have had many of these experiences with artist since 1985 until now.
The soundcheck at Red Rocks was done, everyone had enjoyed the facility and all its visual grandeur, the walks in and through the catacombs to the delicious and well prepared catering were done. The sun had long since set. If you've never been to this place and even if you have; when that sun sets and the enormous almost out of this world boulders that form around the venue are lit up, there starts an almost unstoppable spiritual experience. That for me, is the transcendent description.
The lights lowered as the house music was drawn down, the band had found their places along the sprawling stage. Then with little to no fanfare Sturgill picked up his guitar, centered himself on his microphone. They counted off and watching what happened from the four count onward was singularly one of the greatest musical moments I've witnessed. When I say singular I mean to say only this. It seemed as if a smattering of folks knew who Sturgill was, they and I knew that those around us that hadn't a clue are in for a wake up as if they'd been in a four score slumber unlike any story told of a forlorn princess.
It was as if everyone in this one place, this ever so tiny spot on this big earth; were captured in a moment or a bubble and what was unfolding before their eyes was genius. The power behind those that were just awakening to their "Ahh Haa" moment was intoxicating if not potent! Keep in mind, Sturgill was on this show as an opener for a very popular group that had some very loyal followers. These weren't necessarily "his people." What followed during the allegro, crescendo and colossale would certainly and easily fix that.
I was soaking it in, I went from areas left and right of the stage, I traveled from the top of the venue to the first row. I observed those that whispered, nudged, and less reluctantly than before the first note began; to stomp the foot, move rhythmically as if the sounds, beat and emotions of the songs carried them down a fast moving stream of utopian musical bliss. I was watching them experience what I'd felt and experienced upon my inaugural Sturgill performance. It was as if the same, the veil of fogginess had been lifted from the eyes and clarity was within reach, the muffled noise by what seemed like cotton in the ears was gone and what I or better yet what they were seeing as if for the first time was purity, singularity and honesty.
For at this moment, it was as if watching thousands of individuals formed a spiritual union becoming as one. The "Ahh Haa" moment had passed and now onto the phase that the doubting jury of souls; without a spoken word or provocation between them agreed and consented. And me, here I was feeling exhilarated, knowing from the beginning that if they; like I, loved music would find themselves at this place before they knew what was to happen.
Alas, it came and went. It was absolutely undeniable what had just taken place. The stage was reset and readied for the headliner. There was this sense that they (the crowd), just had the single most isolated encounter with the most beautiful boy/girl in the world and then vanished into the air. Feelings as, "what just happened to me, will I ever see he/she again, wait come back, I need a shower but I don't wanna wash this away." Now I'm not sure if you (the reader) really get what I'm trying to say in this particular instance. I may never know and really that is just fine and dandy with me.
However, if your on Facebook, Twitter, Reddit or the litany of social media outlets or just reading internet news that no doubt is fueled by "trends." You are certainly going to click, read and figure out what and who the hell this Sturgill Simpson fella is and what the hell is going on? No doubt, you'll find words, reviews and videos of last evenings Saturday Night Live debut performance. Ready yourself as you prepare to watch first "Keep It Between the Lines," then move away the glass table, breakable objects and possibly the dog as you click on and watch "Call To Arms".
Keep in mind his songs and some would say his style is that of country music. Not the requisite radio ready, crossover pop tunes with commercial appeal and rhythmic almost rap like lyrics. The kind your momma and daddy grew up listening too and some before that era. The "Country & Western" music that was rooted in; for some in the hills of Tennessee & Kentucky or the plains of Texas or around the bluegrass fires in the woods. Where everyone would pick along and sing as well to a harmony and melody the likes of which big money radio and records have long since abandoned.
Yeah, so on that run I did with Sturgill. It was on this run he was formulating more of his genius. He was piecing together the parts for his next record. Ultimately which became "A Sailor's Guide to Earth." Some would think, "what the hell do sailors and earth have to do with country music." Well sweetheart you just set your pretty ass right over there and wait, he'll show you. Some have labeled this fella a rebel, an outsider or fringe guy. I argue, to the contrary. He's an insider.
Not the insider of big radio and records. More so an original, without a means or need for a mold that which does not exist. He an insider of America, this record for me had the flavor of home grown funk, big band, bluegrass and western waltz. Layered with timings of jazz and the harmony only the hills could produce. Its nothing conjured by a protools rig on music row by the ideals, motivations and standards that get spins on the hot clock that we're force fed by iheartcountry radio.
I found myself running behind last night. I'd had a gig 75 miles from home. I knew if I timed it just right, I'd get to dial up SNL and watch. During this past year, I narrowly missed opportunity to catch the boys perform live. I suppose our schedules opposed one another an it just wasn't meant to be. With great anticipation and excitement I heard "Ladies and Gentlemen, Sturgill Simpson." And at that moment I looked on and thought "America, if you don't know...well you're about too."
I wanna preface, by saying that since I first purchased "A Sailor's Guide to Earth" it has been almost constantly on and in every playlist I have on my phone, computer, iPad, Leapad or music playing device. If nothing more to hear EVERY song on this record. For me like many, I buy singles. But for everything that is provident and divine I'd certainly miss the mark if I'd not purchased the whole record. Of course we have all purchased records. There are songs on there that we'll skip over with the likes of dismissal of lint on a suit coat. Whoa no no no....not on this record and if you do... well your just not a goddamend music lover.
No doubt with the hashtags and trending of last nights "Fiery" performance of #CALLTOARMS or #STURGILLSIMPSON on SNL, you've gotten to see the same spectacle I witnessed. Let me say this, watching the looks on the faces of his band while performing, the fluid energy and movements of Sturgill we're as if visualizing what it would look like to see a spirit move. I'm shocked an amazed that I didn't bother to make the bed after watching this performance. There wasn't a sheet tucked in or a pillow in its original place after watching and feeling that kind of energy he exuded.
I'm still blown away, I still have some sense of pride in watching that performance. Its an odd sense of pride, one that you'd think a parent would have. Knowing your child was pure and good and honestly talented and now the world can see what you've been saying for so long. Yes every parent thinks their precious little womb raider is just the cat's meow. But we all know, there's nothing that special about "Little Linda Lou" and her tap and jazz recital. What I watched last night left the feelings of vindication. Those that just brushed off my insistence to buy the record or listen to this or that song; finally understood and had their epiphany, moment of grandeur and or Ahh Haa moment.
No, I have no connection to Sturgill, his band or crew. I don't have his phone number, email address nor his personal Facebook or Twitter. No affiliation whatsoever! What I do have are a few weeks of driving them from gig to gig, sharing meals, taco bell and some cigarettes with the band members. I've got the personal experience and good fortune to watch him perform from any angle of the venue without restriction. He an I shared the same commitment in serving our country in the U.S. Navy as regular men. I, a guy from Baltimore, MD and he a fella from Kentucky; that's it. What else I have are those fond memories of witnessing him build from a regular guy and putting this record together with the meticulousness of surgeon and without regard for anything more than what HE wanted to say. From the first note of this record to the last, I've just sat back and waited for what I knew was coming. That guitar being slammed to the floor, that was his mic drop. It was the "If ya don't know, now ya know" moment.
My patience paid off in spades last night. I awoke with no intention of doing anything more than using this laptop to guide me through emails, news and to see vacation happenings of close friends in Costa Rica. Little did I know, I'd be writing what is tantamount to a Gettysburg address of reviews on Sturgill Simpson. But here we are. I'm not sure who reads this and frankly it just doesn't matter. It was more for me to etch down the memories, the pride and the hope to see a really really good guy do well. So to that I say, fine job Shipmate! Damn fine job!
#DONTCALLHIMBOSS #ASAILORSGUIDETOEARTH #FLYONTHEWALL #PUREGENIUS #STURGILLSIMPSON #CALLTOARMS #BETWEENTHELINES
