FEATURING 

Passage Du Desir by Johnny Blue Skies / Sturgill Simpson, released by High Top Mountain Records in 2024. Listen / Buy direct 

• "Swamp of Sadness"
• "Who I Am"

TRANSCRIPT 

I know it may not sound like it right now, but I'm here today to talk about country music and a masterful singer who knows just how to play it and how to play with what we expect it to be. 

Now that sounds a little more like it, though there is a surprising amount of French in the lyrics. But I'll come back to what's surprising; for now I want to focus on how the music sounds and how it's doing everything just right. 

What I love about this music is the soft-spoken emotion that runs through every beat and measure. You can hear it in the singing, in the way each word is delicately phrased and the whole song is practically whispered. You can hear it in the instrumentation, with its bending guitars and warbling organ, weepy pedal steel and fluttering mandolin. Even that weird accordion from the beginning doesn't sound so out of place, in this context. 

Which is just to say that this music, like so much country music, is music of the heart, giving voice to its quiet aches and pains. If it doesn't reach the histrionic heights of other styles of music, that's because it's expressing an ordinary kind of heartbreak, the kind to which we can all, sadly, relate. 

And that's why the vocal delivery here is so essential. When done right, we can hear in it the singer's honesty, sincerity, and conviction. They're not trying to impress us, they're trying to tell it like it is. 

But then here's the irony: For all its straight talk and musical swagger, this is a song about the singer's own confusion, isolation, and instability. It's a song about the distorting effects of temptation and the "sirens" that keep luring the singer out to sea. It's a song that sees the singer likening themself to Odysseus, that wily man of many turns, the sort of shapeshifting persona that would seem antithetical to country music. 

But that's the beauty of this song. The singer takes this plain-spoken style and uses it to tell a different, deeper kind of truth, which might run counter to what we expect to hear from a song like this, but is in fact an even more honest statement of what it's really like to exist in this world. 

So what do you think the singer is gonna have to say in a song called "Who I Am"? Well, the first thing the singer tells us is that they've "lost everything I am, even my name". In an even more stripped down and straight-ahead style than before, they remind us of the wisdom that "nothing ever stays the same". Or, putting it more starkly, "they don't tell you until you die it's all a sham". And the singer shares their relief that God doesn't ask your name when you arrive at those pearly gates, since, as they say, "I couldn't tell Her if I had to who I am". 

That's this singer's self-introduction. That's what they have to say about who they are. It may seem like a rebuttal of the question, a rejection of its very premise. But a better way to look at it is as the only answer they know how to give. 

Because what this song really is is a song about aging, and how, as one gets older, it only becomes harder to know oneself, in part because of the traumas and tragedies we all suffer, and in part because of our own avoidance. It's about reaching that age where therapy can't reach us. It's about being left behind. And here's the best line, am I right? "Life ain't fair and God is cruel, but at least She ain't the man." 

What I hear in this song is a message, that even in the face of the existential meaninglessness of it all, it still feels good to be your own person, even if you don't know who that person is anymore – and that maybe the true wisdom of age is that you don't need to know, and that maybe life is better if you don't.