“Country music you can fuk too.”

His spelling, not mine. And he doesn’t ease you into it either. The first track is literally Make America Fuk Again, which tells you everything you need to know about what kind of ride you’re about to take.

Johnny Blue Skies, formerly Sturgill Simpson, has made a career out of refusing to make the same album twice. If anything, Mutiny After Midnight feels like the logical extreme of that philosophy. This isn’t just a genre-bending record. It’s a genre refusal record. Country, bluegrass, crooner, industrial textures, hints of something that wouldn’t feel out of place in an anime soundtrack. He jumps lanes constantly, and somehow never fully loses control, if he ever had control. I don’t know.

The album opens with a pair of political heavy hitters, setting a tone that is both confrontational and weirdly playful. There’s bite here, but it’s not delivered with a straight face. It’s delivered with a smirk. It leans into the chaos.

Then it settles into what I can only describe as a fu(n)ky groove.

Not funk in the traditional sense. Not danceable in a clean, polished way. But loose, slippery, confident, and a little bit unhinged. The middle stretch of this album is filled with what I’d call “luv songs.” Not traditional love songs, but songs about love with a wink, a nudge, and a whole lot of innuendo. Tongue-in-cheek, and occasionally tongue somewhere else entirely. It’s playful without being disposable, suggestive without being lazy.

Don’t Let Go stands out as the closest thing to a traditional love song, and it earns it. It’s one of the rare moments where the album pulls back slightly and lets sincerity sit in the front seat. It’s also one of the two 8-star songs for me, alongside the opener. That pairing says a lot about the range here.

What makes this album work is that it never feels like it’s trying to impress you. It feels like it’s entertaining itself, and you’re either along for the ride or you’re not. That confidence is what ties together the genre swings and tonal shifts. Without it, this would be a mess. With it, it becomes something closer to a statement.

There are moments that jump out immediately. “Excited Delirium” and “Stay On That” keep the energy high, while “Viridescent” and “Situation” seem to be the early consensus picks for favorite tracks. It’s easy to see why. They sit right in that sweet spot between accessible and off-center.

Also, any song that includes a reference to “brown velvet dopamine” is doing something right in my book. I’m starting to think Sturgill knew what the hell rhymed with Bronco this whole damn time.

The album closes with Ain’t That A Bitch, which circles back to the political edge introduced at the start. It’s a fitting bookend, reinforcing that while this album takes detours into groove, humor, and sensuality, it hasn’t forgotten what it wanted to say.

Where this lands in the Sturgill Simpson catalog is where things get interesting. Right now, I have it as my number two Sturgill album all time, behind A Sailor’s Guide to Earth and ahead of Metamodern Sounds in Country Music. That’s not a casual placement. That’s elite company. That is top 20 all time territory. And while rankings can shift over time, this one feels like it has staying power.

One thing that can’t be ignored is the listening experience itself. This album is not available on streaming platforms, at least for now. I understand the reasoning. Pushing album sales pays artists better than streams, and in a vacuum, I support that decision. But practically speaking, it’s a hassle.

No CD drive on my laptop. No CD player in my car. That meant importing files, dealing with transfer issues, fixing errors, and manually loading it into Spotify. I eventually got there, but it reminded me how spoiled we’ve become with instant access. I respect the move. I don’t enjoy the process.

Even with all of that, this album still landed where it did. That should tell you something.

Right now, this is my favorite album of the year. Early contender for Album of the Year, and not just by default. It earned it. That said, I’ll admit something: my current mood probably favors the harder-hitting tracks. The political edge. The sharper moments. As that mood shifts, it’s entirely possible the groove-heavy middle of the album grows on me even more.

That’s the kind of album this is. One that changes shape depending on where you meet it.

And that’s usually a good sign.

8 Star songs:
Make America Fuk Again, Don’t Let Go

7 star songs:
Excited Delirium, Stay On That, Viridescent, Situation, Ain’t That A Bitch