Lost at Sea
Don McLeese
Posted On April 13, 2016
Provocative and polarizing, lush with strings and blaring with horns, A Sailor’s Guide to Earth (out April 15 on Atlantic) finds Sturgill Simpson entrusting the musical adventurism of his third album to a heavy-handed producer. The producer is named Sturgill Simpson, and, given the choice between understatement and overkill, he consistently opts for the latter. Some of this material would definitely benefit from a little more room to breathe, whereas other songs might sound a little thin, so perhaps the arrangements are intended to distract.
While this is a concept album inspired by and addressed to his baby boy, it seems like the father is the one experiencing growing pains. “Hello my son, welcome to Earth,” intones the artist on the album’s first words, after an atmospheric prelude that recalls Procul Harum’s “A Salty Dog” and later features a guitar line that channels the spirit of George Harrison. So much of what follows is advice and occasional rumination, about the life that may batter you and the love that can redeem you. The material often recycles clichés that Sturgill knows are clichés, but are the kind of things a father might say to a son who is old enough to listen.
The inscrutable centerpiece is a cover of “In Bloom” that has agitated some Simpson and Nirvana fans alike, a tender reading that recasts the song within the album’s concept before subjecting it to the characteristic overproduction. It will be a kick to hear Simpson take this music on the road, because the best of it — from the swaggering, mid-tempo “Brace for Impact (Live a Little)” to the Memphis-soul balladry of “All Around You,” to the dreamy reveries of “Breakers Rose” and “Oh Sarah” — will likely sound very different outside the hothouse confines of the studio.
Some have hailed this album a masterpiece, while others have called it — and “In Bloom” in particular — an abomination, but it is neither. It’s more like a side trip, as well as a head trip, a curiosity by an artist who deserves credit for taking big chances, even if not all of them pay off. Sometimes less really is more.
