As soon as
High Top Mountain begins to unspool, it's hard to shake the feeling that
Sturgill Simpson's 2013 debut isn't some kind of tribute to
Waylon Jennings. When the tempo slows down and the arrangements are stripped to an acoustic guitar, he can at times recall
Jamey Johnson, but that troubadour himself owes a significant debt to
Waylon, so having the slow tunes conjure
Johnson isn't a dramatic shift in tone, but it does give
High Top Mountain a bit of depth, suggesting
Simpson knows he does not reside in 1978. He'll admit as much in the lyrics -- he'll grudgingly accept the internet and other inconveniences of modern life -- but the sound belongs to the late-'70s and
Simpson is particularly fond of the hard, lean, rolling sound of
Waylon's outlaw period, molding his band and songs after the records that came after
Honky Tonk Heroes. If
Simpson doesn't have the gravity of
Jennings in his voice, he compensates with attitude, taking his sweet time to re-capture the long, languid strut of
Waylon.
Simpson's ace in the hole is how he can craft a song -- he can conjure the spirit of
Jennings, never sounding as overwhelming as
Waylon, but he can capture the muscular inevitability that pulsated through the peak of outlaw country.
High Top Mountain doesn't succumb to the weaknesses of prime outlaw -- the tunes aren't tired, they're fresh, often deriving from
Simpson's pen -- and his evident passion means
High Top Mountain feels fresh even if it so clearly means to conjure the ghosts of the '70s in every one of its songs and every one of its performances. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine
