Article Contributed by Joshua Dulas
Published on October 28, 2025
Believe it or not, Marcus King hasn’t even turned thirty years old yet. You would be forgiven if you happen to not believe, because if you are anything like me, you’ve been hearing about the Greenville, South Carolina native for some time now.
On September 26, 2025, King released Darling Blue, his fourth album to date with the Marcus King Band, and the first with them since 2018’s Carolina Confessions. This album features a litany of guests, including (in order of appearance): Kaitlyn Butts, Jamey Johnson, Jesse Welles, Billy Strings & Noah Cyrus, as well as an extensive list of guest musicians on a myriad of instruments.
Primarily recorded at Capricorn Studios in Macon, Georgia and produced by Eddie Spear (Zach Bryan, Sierra Ferrell, Brandi Carlile), this album is an ode to King’s hometown of Greenville, the American South & his beloved Blue Ridge Mountains in particular. But intertwined with this sweet Southern flavor is another, much more bitter taste: It’s also an ode to addiction.
It’s been widely reported on and talked about plenty by the man himself, so I won’t rehash extensively here, but after past struggles, King is California sober these days, meaning he is abstaining from alcohol & hard drugs. Given this context, this album displays a certain maturity and healthy reflection on the past, while not ruminating on mistakes and missteps, which is undoubtedly a good example for all of us. While Darling Blue certainly feels like a coming-to-terms moment for King, it absolutely is not an apology, despite what some of the lyrics state.
Case in point: the record’s opening track, “On and On.” After counting in, the listener is greeted with a guitar strum that sounds like it was plucked right from a front porch swing, sitting in the shade of an old cypress tree: “I’m sorry I was selfish and so insecure. I’ve been back in therapy but still ain’t cured. Oh, you’d like to know that I’m sober again.” King’s raw & raspy Southern voice shines on this track about a relationship that has drug on and on and off again for far too long.
“Here Today” is a track that took some time to grow on me. At first listen, it felt almost cheesy, but I’ve come to the conclusion that this is actually the best utilized guest spot on the entire album. The juxtaposition of Kaitlyn Butts’ soulfully sweet and playful country-girl voice against Jamey Johnson’s deep, smoky, grizzled spoken-word backwoods drawl is a very interesting dichotomy, and this song is one I find playing in my head more than I anticipated I would upon first listen.
“Honky Tonk Hell” features some very filthy slide pickin’ on the Dobro (courtesy of Drew Smithers) and a boot-stompin’ rhythm, as King both gives a nod to while also simultaneously kissing the turmoil of his past goodbye. “Heaven knows I miss my late night livin’, but they gettin’ along without me, far as I can tell.” Add this one to the list of numbers that seem to be playing in constant rotation in my head.
After three strong songs to kick it off, things take a bit of a dive on “Heartlands,” which sounds like most of the extremely forgettable generic pop country that exists in the landscape nowadays. That is to say: entirely unremarkable filler, which stands in stark contrast to the album’s next song: “Die Alone.” This is the track on Darling Blue that made me stop what I was doing and just intently listen, and then promptly start the song over again after it ended. Toned down, simple, quiet & haunting, King’s ascending pitch during the line: “When the bus gets back to Greenville, I’ll already be back home,” is absolutely shiver-inducing. While this album may come in lighter on the guitars than previous albums, I contend that “Die Alone” is a prime example of why a stripped-down number can be just as effective (if not more so) at conveying feeling and emotion for songs with darker subject matter such as this.
After another filler song in “Somebody Else” featuring Jesse Welles, “Levis & Goodbyes” snaps you right back to attention with thunderous drums and a guitar chord pattern that would make Keith Richards proud. “I know it’s hard on you baby. You need a yes and I’m just a maybe. Levi’s, goodbyes, rolling papers. Phone calls, withdrawals, see ya laters,” is some very crafty lyricism, and this song is a certified banger.
“Carolina Honey” follows, and it feels like a track that, just like Jan Brady dying her hair black to separate herself from sisters Cindy and Marsha, is trying too hard to be somebody it’s not. The horn section that the track leans so heavily on ends up being repetitive and ultimately just goes nowhere but in a monotonous circle. Lyrically, I feel like this really should have been a better song, but the delivery missed the mark here. In the end, the track just leaves the rocket smoldering at the launch pad, really wanting to blast off but never actually doing it, all the while producing immense clouds of smoke, obscuring what is actually going on behind the smoke screen. For one of the more widely publicly praised tracks on the album, this one disappointed me.
“Blue Ridge Mountain Moon” provides a much-needed pick-me-up, which feels like stepping into a jazz club — but set in a backwoods mountain holler. You can almost taste & smell the smoke in this track on King’s voice, and it’s a beautiful, reminiscent tale of regrets and second-guessing oneself over leaving the simple mountain way of life for the hustle and bustle of the big city.
“Dirt (Nashville Version)” featuring Billy Strings, the track that I was most looking forward to hearing before I spun this record for the first time, comes to your eardrums next. To my dismay, I’m struggling to hear what Billy is contributing to this number. Perhaps my expectations were too lofty. That said, the song’s lyrics will hit home for pretty much anyone with a pulse and a past: “I’ve got dirt underneath my feet. Don’t believe all that you hear and half of what you read about that dirt, you might’ve heard about me. Nobody walks through hell alone and comes out looking clean… everybody got dirt.” Very much in the vein of this album being a coming-to-terms moment but not an apology, King just brushes the dirt off his shoulders and keeps on truckin’, undeterred by the gossip & whispers of his detractors. Billy’s otherworldly picking ability is of course instantly recognizable but all the same incredibly underutilized on the track and, almost as criminal, not a single vocal chop was lent — not even a backing vocal, according to the album credits.
This brings me to my largest criticism of the entire piece: the guest appearances and what they do and don’t do for the larger picture of this record. The guests feel like a cover up for an album that is trying too hard to veer in the direction of assuming the identity of a hit pop-country record, when it really doesn’t need to be, and honestly, shouldn’t aspire to be. Ironically, the tracks without guests seem to be the ones I’m gravitating most to (“Die Alone,” “Levis & Goodbyes” & “Blue Ridge Mountain Moon”). In fact, other than the penultimate “Pretty Petty,” which features an incredibly infectious chorus, I find myself skipping past most of the end of the album on subsequent re-listens. “No Room for Blue,” “The Shadows” featuring Noah Cyrus and “Carry Me Home” are neither catchy to my ears nor are they memorable. I’ve tried to like them, repeatedly, but I just can’t.
In the end, Darling Blue simply isn’t greater than the sum of its parts. And unfortunately, some of those parts just aren’t very good. Because of this, the high water marks on the album are ultimately dragged down by the filler. The album leaves me wanting more — and not in a good way — but in a quite unsatisfying way; like a gem that was set in the ring still in need of more polishing.
Despite that, listening to this album and writing this review has still managed to turn me into a Marcus King fan, despite my qualms with some of the songs on Darling Blue. Suffice to say, I’ll certainly stay tuned in to see what King & Co. do next.
Album Rating: 6.5/10
