Orville Peck is a master at musical shtick. When the mysterious Sub Pop signee sauntered onto the indie music scene in 2019 in a fringed mask and a rhinestone jacket, the immediate curiosity around his get-up eclipsed that of his music. The skewed interest toward his persona was likely no accident. It was the result of careful marketing, and that mystique continues to drive the conversation around Peck today—no matter how his music sounds.
On his 2019 debut Pony and 2022 follow-up Bronco, Daniel Pitout, the South African-born artist known as Orville Peck, now signed to Warner Records, imparted quite a novel sound: rockabilly—the likes of which hasn’t been on the airwaves in 50 years—meets outlaw country meets moody queer pop. This approach garnered him friends and fans across the music industry, including Shania Twain, who even joined him on a track on his 2020 EP Show Pony.
Perhaps jolted by that momentum, his latest project Stampede, a duets album made up of both covers and originals, explores a slate of new ideas while not entirely leaving his Elvis-influenced style in the dust. It contains the seven songs released previously on Stampede Vol. 1, which spotlights a star-studded cast of singers including Elton John, Willie Nelson and Noah Cyrus, plus eight new tracks featuring all kinds of artists, from bluegrass great Molly Tuttle to EDM-lord-turned-country-pop-alchemist Diplo.
While Stampede is a fun listen, Peck’s play at a group project is uneven. He makes both gains and losses in teaming up with such a vast pool of talent. The original lyrics are sometimes pithy, but more often pedestrian—stringing together accounts of wrangling steer and horses, journeys down sprawling highways, and sad cowboys whose love was lost to the wind with the tumbleweeds. “Death Valley High,” with Beck, starts out on a funky promising note, but it falls victim to an empty-sounding horn section and bizarre rap verse recounting Hangover-like escapades through Sin City. And not even Sir Elton John can save a cover of his “Saturday Night’s Alright (For Fighting),” which on Stampede sounds like it was produced for a made-for-Netflix musical. The powerhouse Mickey Guyton lends her textured soprano to the foot-tapper “Where Are We Now,” but it still comes out flatter than a stale Coors.
“You’re An Asshole, I Can’t Stand You (And I Want A Divorce),” however, makes excellent use of fellow outlaw Margo Price’s talents and humor. Peck also uses his time well with Price’s mentor and country legend Willie Nelson on “Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other,” which was originally recorded in 1981 by Ned Sublette and again by Nelson in 2006. It’s nothing new for Peck—the homoerotic nature of the Wild West is a favorite topic—but hearing him sing lines like “What did you think all them saddles and boots was about?” with Nelson is extra amusing.
There are other redeeming moments: “The Hurtin’ Kind” with Midland puts Peck’s syrupy vocals on display in a chiming country-pop chorus; Molly Tuttle takes command of the traveler’s tale “Papa Was a Rodeo,” a creative cover of the Magnetic Fields song that originally appeared on the band’s iconic 69 Love Songs; “Miénteme,” a take on mariachi with Italian-Mexican producer Bu Cuaron, is a fine piece of Latin pop music. But none of those moments can change the very nature of Stampede, which sounds like more of a pet project than a complete music concept.
For an artist whose career has often been propelled by his niche appeal, it’s not a massive surprise that Stampede is something of a PR move. It’s like inviting the coolest people you know to a party, but once everyone gets in the same room, the vibes fall flat. Still, few in the industry know how to razzle-dazzle like the man behind the mask. So if Stampede sounds like your kind of shtick, don’t be shy. If nothing else, Orville Peck is still having a party.
Read our recent cover story on Peck here.
Ellen Johnson is a former Paste music editor and forever pop culture enthusiast. Presently, she’s a full-time editor and part-time writer. You can find her in Atlanta, or rewatching Little Women on Letterboxd.
