Sturgill Simpson talks working with Martin Scorsese, why he's 'definitely done' with solo career

These days, Sturgill Simpson needs at least two ingredients to concoct a killer album.

One: A band ready to lay down bluegrass wizardry at any moment's notice.

Two: A whole lot of fun.

"This should be the most fun job on the planet," Simpson told The Tennessean, part of the USA TODAY Network, in a new interview. "And if it's not, you've got problems."

Simpson overcame his share of problems — a stifling major label contract (he's done with that), a tired narrative about his place in country music's outlaw pantheon (that maybe, hopefully, got put to bed after two-plus years of sonic hop-scotch) and eight years of pedal-to-the-floor touring (COVID-19 and a vocal cord injury took care of that one), to name a few.

Now, he's having a good time at work. And it shows.

Simpson — a creative chameleon who can jump from acting in a Jim Jarmusch zombie flick to collaborating with Kesha and working on set with Martin Scorsese — tapped into a treasure trove of music since COVID-19 derailed touring nearly two years ago. Starting in October 2020, he released three albums in 10 months: "Cuttin' Grass Vol. 1" and "Vol. 2," a bluegrass reinvention of his past work, and "The Ballad of Dood & Juanita," a 10-song traditional country concept album that brings to life the tall tale of a mountain man crusading for his lost love.

In January, "Dood & Juanita" competes for Best Country Album and "Vol. 1" contends Best Bluegrass Album at the Grammy Awards — a pair of nominations that didn't come without a little fun along the way.

"When you get in the studio that's where musicians are supposed to geek out," said Simpson, a 43-year-old former railroad worker and Navy veteran who earned Grammy Award-winning music success in his mid-30s. "Instead of, like, 'Oh I gotta make this kind of record so they keep buying it and sustain this thing and pay for these 70 employees I've got now.' To me that sounds like prison. It's a job, you're a politician.

"I didn't ever want to have that kind of career."

Stugrass ... assemble

Last year, COVID-19 caused Simpson to pull the plug on an expansive arena run in support of frazzling fuzz-rock album "Sound & Fury," his second and final release under a major contract.

Burnt out from one tour bleeding into the next, he took the time off as a blessing.

"I had the 'rona, that sucked," Simpson said. "I lost some friends. That sucked even more. There was a couple of years where I really didn't enjoy it. I was in a dark headspace. Being on the road with the guys I was playing with at the time, and embracing that, is what got me through it."

He left the road indefinitely for the first time in nearly a decade, fulfilling a wish for time off that Simpson had wanted since tour buses took hold of his career.

"I was like, 'now I have time to do what I really love, which is make records,'" Simpson said. "I got my ownership and control back and it really all just breathed life into it."

And, boy, he made records.

As a promise to his fans for raising funds for Equity Alliance, MusiCares COVID-19 relief and the Special Forces Foundation, Simpson returned to the sounds of his eastern Kentucky upbringing — bluegrass.

Dubbed Hillbilly Avengers, he assembled one of the fiercest bluegrass bands in the universe: Mark Howard on guitar, Scott Vestal on banjo, Mike Bub on bass, Sierra Hull on mandolin, Tim O’Brien on guitar, Miles Miller on percussion and Stuart Duncan on fiddle.

They hit the studio with ace producer David Ferguson to reimagine a chunk of Simpson's back catalog. They cut two albums in as many studios, releasing "Cuttin' Grass Vol. 1" from the now-closed Butcher Shoppe and "Vol. 2" from Cowboy Jack Clement's Cowboy Arms Hotel on Belmont Boulevard.

Ferguson said he met Simpson about six years ago at a card game hosted by producer-Black Keys frontman Dan Auerbach. They've since worked together on a handful of albums, including co-producing Tyler Childers and Margo Price.

"Me and Sturgill, we work so fast in the studio," Ferguson said. "He's a real quick take. I think the key is to have a group of musicians who can get their parts pretty quickly, because after he sings something three or four times, the fun's kinda gone from it."

Just as he cut the albums quickly, Simpson didn't sit on releasing "Cuttin' Grass."

Freedom to release music on his timeline — not waiting for vinyl, which continues to face intense manufacturing delays — played a "hugely motivating factor" in Simpson punting on a traditional album cycle.

"It's fresh in my mind, I'm excited about it," Simpson said. "Why would you not want to share (new music) with your fans as soon as possible? Whether I ever was or not, mainstream —or that kind-of thing — isn't in the cards. I'm not serving those models. A Billboard No. 1 or those kind-of things aren't important goals for me any more. It's really about moving forward."

He added, "The last two years has been the most fun I've had in the last 10."

2021 Americana Awards: Brandi Carlile artist of the year, Sturgill Simpson album of the year

And transfiguring years of songwriting into bluegrass material proved to be a "two-sided coin," Simpson said.

"You can dwell on the things you wished you'd done the first time around and then you also find life in things you were burnt out on," he said.

Simpson continued, referencing "Turtles All The Way Down," his 2014 psychedelic country song: "... and it made me feel better about my own opinions on myself as a songwriter, hearing them stripped down that organic. Because it's not something that's ever been a big talking point in my career, my songwriting. It's always been [about] my voice or drugs or turtles."

'Dood & Juanita'

Last August, Simpson released "The Ballad of Dood & Juanita," taking storytelling notes from a master of tall-tale escapism — Martin Scorsese. The famed director tapped Simpson to act in his upcoming Apple+ western-crime epic "Killers of the Flower Moon."

"Dood" wouldn't exist without "Flower Moon," Simpson said; stepping into the film felt like a "time machine," with set pieces so large that he didn't need to suspend disbelief when in front of a camera. He spent weeks training with horses and guns — which, alongside a faithful hound Sam, follow the central character throughout much of "Dood & Juanita."

In working with Scorsese, Simpson said he experienced the importance of concise storytelling that pushes a narrative forward.

"Seeing Marty's process in terms of trimming fat," Simpson said, "you gotta have a good internal editor. Is this serving the story or your ego?"

He formulated the tale on a late-night drive back from shooting in Oklahoma. Simpson wrote "Dood" two days later and, before the end of the week, he drove to Nashville and cut the album in another two-day stretch with Ferguson and company at Cowboy Arms.

Drenched in country, roots and bluegrass, "Dood" sends listeners to Civil War-era Appalachia.

Simpson spins a fable of Dood, a tough-as-nails Kentucky mountain man born to a miner and a Shawnee maiden; he based the protagonist on his maternal grandfather Lawrence Grey Fraley, who died in 2017. Dood sets out with his road-worn steed, Shamrock, and pup, Sam, to take back his kidnapped love, Juanita. Listeners follow Dood through a half-hour adventure of lawless redemption fueled by a dogged fondness for his Juanita.

A sharply told story that balances tenacity with tenderheartedness, Simpson considers "Dood" a songwriting culmination of what he's learned in the last 10 years.

"It's a real simple tale of love and revenge but, to me, the music was taking it as far back to my family and cultural roots as far as I could," Simpson said.

Like much of his discography before it, Simpson builds a sonic landscape with "Dood." He utilizes gunfire, marching drums and campfire crackles to help build Dood's world.

"You want the whole record to sonically be cohesive," Simpson said. "That's something I love about making records, trying to start-to-finish make something that feels like it was born out of the same moment."

And Ferguson wasn't too surprised when Simpson called saying he needed to hit the studio for the third time in a year.

"He gets restless, you know," Ferguson said. "I think he's restless and had this idea in his head. He had his creative juices going and I wasn't going to stop him."

The next step for Dood? The silver screen, Simpson jested.

"Now I'm trying to figure out how I'm gonna con somebody into giving me a bunch of money to make a feature film, or maybe a play adaptation," he said. "Broadway would make more sense. Then I could write more music and flesh out the in-between."

What's next?

"The Ballad of Dood & Juanita" wraps a five-album lifecycle — literally — that Simpson and his wife Sarah mapped out when he launched his solo career in 2013 with "High Top Mountain," named after the Kentucky cemetery where much of his family is buried.

The cycle takes listeners through a past life ("High Top") to an astral state of pre-birth ("Metamodern Sounds In Country Music," his sophomore album), birth ("A Sailor's Guide To Earth") and suffering ("Sound & Fury").

'Dood' brings his music back "to the light and love and family and absolution," Simpson said. And it may be the last listeners hear from him in the coming months — or longer.

He's recovering from a vocal cord injury that sidelined live performances for at least four to six months, Simpson said. He began seeing a specialist in Los Angeles, but doesn't anticipate needing surgery to recover.

If Simpson could play, he's not sure he would. Regardless of COVID-19 vaccination status or efforts to test ticketholders before a gig, major events open a door for superspreading, Simpson said.

"Even when we're out there I felt really irresponsible about it," Simpson said, adding: "Whether you're vaccinated or not, there's a lot of people, for whatever reason, that aren't. Even though that's their personal choice, I think it's my personal choice to not put them in a position where I might kill them. I think it's time to let the world figure some (expletive) out."

Instead, he's spending time at home in rural southeast Tennessee with his wife and three children. Time away from touring gives him an opportunity for family movie nights, bonfires and late-night stargazing. And he's rediscovering music; Simpson said he's a fan of techno and the "absolute (expletive) masterpiece" Weeknd album "After Hours," while he considers his wife "of the Dua Lipa variety."

Sturgill Simpson, the solo artist? That guy's "definitely done," said Sturgill Simpson, the guy who's "just starting" on his job as dad.

"I feel like the last 10 years have been amazing but my bucket list is pretty checked off," Simpson said. "I wrote the albums I've written because I lived 36 years before I made 'em. I feel like I wanna go do some living and some other challenges."

As for what those challenges may be, Simpson said he's interested in other ways to tell stories. He remained tight-lipped on details, acknowledging that he blocked out "the next two years" for projects.

"I'm just at a point where I don't want to do it unless I got something to say and I'm really excited about it," Simpson said.

He doesn't plan to return to the studio soon, unless he finds a "really great idea for a record" or an artist he admires calls him into action.

But starting a new band isn't out of the question. That even sounds fun, Simpson said — just like being a musician should be.

"I'll put it this way, if I go back into the studio it'll be because I thought of the complete and total reinvention that gets me excited," Simpson said. "But it won't be my name. I'm done with that all that."

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Sturgill Simpson reveals how Martin Scorsese inspired 'Dood & Juanita'