Sit down. Sturgill Simpson has things you need to hear. –Chicago Maroon

“Sit down, baby,” Sturgill Simpson sings. “I have some things you need to hear.”

These words lead the final track on country singer Simpson's latest album: Passage du Desir. In the winding nine-minute track, Simpson looks for a way to tell his lover that it's time for them to move on. “What if I told you that I'm not the man you think I am?” Simpson wonders. “Would you listen / or would I just hear / the door slamming behind you?”

Although these words conclude passageThey opened Simpson's Salt Shed concert earlier this month. The Sturgill Simpson who took the stage was not the Grammy-winning Kentuckian who won hearts with outlaw tales in the style of Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard. This is no longer the man Simpson is. But the end of one thing inevitably marks the beginning of something else – perhaps something smarter, sturdier, brighter. It's this cycle of tragedy and promise that plays out in the lyrics of Simpson's latest songs and on the strings of his electric guitar.

After a torn vocal cord, Simpson had to cancel his 2021 tour, No one knew whether Simpson would return to the recording studio, the stage or even to the United States. Simpson was speechless and fled to Paris, and that's actually where the first lines of Passage du Desir find him: “Spend my days in a haze/swim in the Marais…. The melody goes over, but she doesn't understand a word,” sings Simpson about his new neighbors.

It's a move away from the lyrics and towards the “melody” that Simpson apparently brought into his music from his stay in Paris. In the salt shed, Simpson said very little. He played for nearly an hour, moving from “One for the Road” to “Some Days” and the fan favorite “Turtles All the Way Down” before ever putting his guitar down. Even then, he didn't take a moment to welcome Chicago to his concert. He simply consulted with his band and chose the next song.

Simpson worships at the Shrine of the Guitar. Entire songs passed without a single verse being sung. Simpson reportedly agreed to tour his latest album only after he was invited to play guitar at a tribute concert alongside Bob Weir and Mickey Hart – former members of The Dead. It's melodies, not words, that brought Simpson back to the stage. “You and me, we don’t need words to say something / They just get in our way,” Simpson sings in “If the Sun Never Rises Again.”

It's hard not to hear the fear of an old hurt lurking behind these words. In some ways, Simpson has every reason to avoid singing. But it's more than that. Live, Simpson strips down the highly produced tracks passage– with strings, organ and even a brass band – so his guitar can tell the story. The strings wail on “If the Sun Never Rises Again” and mourn on “Jupiter's Faerie.” This is Simpson's magic. Maybe it was just his voice injury that was able to open up these new passions for him.

Even on “Mint Tea,” which expresses Simpson's good ol' boy charm rather than lapsing into the introspection found on the rest of the album, the infectious hook still exudes the kind of joy Simpson imbued in Worst-case scenario digs up moments of hurt and tragedy: “Put another Band-Aid on my gunshot wound and pour us both another cup of mint tea.”

As he sings: “Sometimes beginnings can come from endings.”