Mutiny After Midnight is the sound of a man clawing himself out of a hole. Johnny Blue Skies – formerly, and better known as, Sturgill Simpson – digs up, “stupid”, allaying the expectations of a country singer from Kentucky, on his second album under the Blue Skies banner.
No, no, let me correct that; Johnny has already clawed himself out of that hole, and this is the sound of his success, his freedom.
He has completed his transition from country caterpillar to loosey-goosey, disco-dancing butterfly. Sometimes, you have to dance your way out of your confines, which Johnny accepts and honours with help from backing band, The Dark Clouds; the bong-rattling bass of Black Daddy; the competent drum work of Easy Luvin.
He has become faultless in his reinvention; lawless, unbound and soulful, giving him a Father John Misty vibe, or better yet, a winking, nudging, ‘mid-‘70s Bowie’ vibe, soldering the parts of honky tonk rock and white soul as if leaping from Diamond Dogs to Young Americans.
He needs this; he feels no dissatisfaction for country music pigeonholing (hell, Don’t Let Go is a darling country ballad), but does for strict, southern Republicanism.
Johnny is from an eternal red state, and he’s fighting the empiric hatred bred in such places. He needs the confidence of funk and disco to steer himself away. There are surely many well-meaning people living in Kentucky, but the MAGA swarm is on.
Fuck ‘em, “fuck” being the operative word. Johnny’s new persona is sex-confident, and sex trumps the dictator and his cretinous goons. You can expect any song titled Make America Fuk Again to confirm that getting high, getting down, and making love are much better ways to pass your time than saluting the gestapo. Never sexless, never without wit, Johnny forms a punchline from the situation – “don’t know why everybody’s afraid of me; I’m a sensitive boy when push comes to shove / I got that Hunter Biden energy. I’ll make a hooker fuck around and fall in love”.
And get this, he can go all night. Johnny applies his muckiest innuendos over the clavis and Car Wash guitars of Stay on That, then gets downright lusty on Situation and Venus.
One could easily lose their head in the wrath of political retribution, or by going on and on about sex. Johnny never does, and the most impressive aspect of Mutiny After Midnight is detail, initially stemming from his ironist’s approach to songwriting, remaining in his inevitable intellect.
This is vital to the album, and to Johnny himself, because living in a world where thinking actually matters is crucial. He sings “they wanna build an establishment where thinking is silly / call ‘em hick-lib instead of hillbilly” on Ain’t That a Bitch, overcoming the labels tossed his way by out-thinking; a moment bookended by a declaration of the woke folk being able to fuck without harassing anyone – “grabbing women by the poon” – and an extended passage on space travel, putting up with Katy Perry, finalising the tangent with “if there ain’t no black people on the ship, I ain’t going”, before reiterating, “get this learning; half the battle is knowing”.
A world without thinking, where conversation is absent, is examined on Excited Delirium. It looks very similar to the one we’re already living in, where level-headedness gets you shot anyway, by cops, by ICE. The song is, fittingly, a rage; distinct from the dance, Johnny is on his Queens of the Stone Age on it.
The good-natured aesthetic of Mutiny After Midnight is there to overthrow the discomfort of these nightmarish themes. If that doesn’t do it, the horniness will.
In the year of punk rock’s boom, Pink Floyd made a statement, entitled Animals, driven by conscience to a greater level than most punk records of the year. There is still plenty of great punk rock being released in 2026, but Johnny Blue Skies has obtained a greater, smarter sense of punk hostility on what is essentially a ‘country goes funk’ album, akin to Floyd’s political prog.
Heroes don’t wear government-authorised balaclavas, and they sure as hell don’t wear red baseball caps. They don’t shoot on instinct, ram their knees into necks, or lock kids in cages. Heroes make music. Heroes make good music.
Best tracks – Excited Delirium – Viridescent – Ain’t That a Bitch.
Rating – 8 out of 10
