Released in 2010, four years after American V, and seven years after Johnny Cash’s death, American VI: Ain’t No Grave is, not surprsingly, not the strongest of the American albums. John Carter Cash has claimed there’s still a lot left in the American Recordings vaults – and, indeed, there’s already a lot from the early years circulating amongst fans – this albums feels less like American VI and more like Unearthed IV. That is, it feels like a companion album of outtakes to American V, much like the Unearthed box set featured outtakes from American I-IV.
Part of this is because there is very little new ground tread on the album. We know that Rubin’s recording style was to experiment a lot with Cash, getting him to try different songs again and again until they found what they felt worked well. This iterative approach means there are lots of songs that are a lot like another song that made the final cut. Take Danny Boy and You’ll Never Walk Alone, both of which were experiments with a church organ played by Benmont Tench.
So it is with Ain’t No Grave (Gonna Hold this Body Down), an old Pentecostal gospel number updated with an ominous stomp provided by the Avett Brothers (assumedly long after Cash died). It’s a good tune, but not as good as God’s Gonna Cut You Down from American V. And so it is with the rest of the album. Ten decent songs, but very little that stands out compared to what Cash had already accomplished with Rick Rubin.
Most of the songs are golden oldies, similar to what often appeared in the latter half of the American albums (after the edgy stuff like Hurt or Personal Jesus was out of the way). Tom Paxton’s Can’t Help But Wonder Where I’m Bound is a good wandering song, of which Cash recorded many over his long career. I Don’t Hurt Anymore is a classic Hank Snow hit. Cash doesn’t reinvigorate it like he did with Snow’s I’ve Been Everywhere on American II, but it’s an enjoyable enough listen. Satisfied Mind – first a hit for Porter Wagoner back in 1955 – is given reverent treatment. Cool Water dates back to 1936, and is a classic cowboy song rooted in death and desperation. And 50s folk star Ed McCurdy’s Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream is a gorgeous anti-war anthem. He also sneaks in an early Kris Kristofferson composition, the nostalgic for the Good Times.
All of these are given the now standard “acoustic guitar + Benmont Tench on piano/organ” treatment. They feel reverent and important, although personally I find the formula getting a bit stale at this point. Cash had the same problem way back at the beginning of his career, which led to significant experimentation during his Columbia years that often goes uncredited. What ties these songs together is a sepia-toned look back at a life that is nearing its end. Releasing the album posthumously increases the sense of drama and gravitas.
The two most interesting songs are Sheryl Crow’s Redemption Day and Cash’s own 1 Corinthians 15:55. Crow sang backup vocals on American III, but here provides a song she wrote for Cash (and would later record herself). It’s simply a good song and doesn’t require any of the over-the-top melodrama that worked well on Hurt, but is easily overdone. 1 Corinthians 15:55 draws its chorus from the apostle Paul’s letter to an early Christian community that roots their hope in times of trial in Jesus’ resurrection:
“Oh death, where is thy sting, Oh grave, where is thy victory?”
Of course, this verse is, itself, a quote from the book of Hosea, a dark book of Jewish prophecy written in the time of Israel’s decline. It ultimately turns to a story of redemption and hope in God’s mercy. All of which becomes deeply moving coming from the voice of a now dead man who sought redemption so many times in his own life. Defiance in the face of death. Moving on from past pain and trials. Remembering the good that has been. These are songs of redemption.
And then we close with the Hawaiian classic Aloha Oe. On American IV, Cash closed out his final album during his lifetime singing, “We’ll meet again.” Now, on this final track on his final album, Cash sings goodbye once and for all. In Mojo magazine, Rick Rubin said,
“A Hawaiian song that Johnny always wanted to sing but never seemed to fit anywhere. It’s not cheesy at all. It’s very moving.”
I have to agree. There is a lot of darkness in the American albums, as there had been a lot of darkness in Cash’s life and ultimately in his dying years. Yet, in these final songs, there is a reminder of redemption. How many times did Cash sing about seeing loved ones over Jordan? Now, in his death there is redemption. Yes, his career had been redeemed thanks to Rick Rubin. But for Cash there had always been a greater redemption on his mind. The redemption of his soul. And now he has crossed over Jordan to be with his saviour and his love. It’s a fitting good bye to a hero, and the traditional Hawaiian arrangement lets go of any pretense that may have been there in the American Recordings, and just lets Cash sing a simple goodbye.
Goodbye Johnny Cash.
4.5/5
Other Songs from the Era:
Uncloudy Day – a fantastic gospel song from the 2006 compilation Voice of the Spirit. Produced by John Carter Cash with Earl Scruggs, Randy Scruggs, Marty Stuart and Carrie Cash joining in.
Engine 143 – on The Unbroken Circle: The Musical Heritage of the Carter Family. This is the last song Cash ever recorded, and how fitting that it’s a Carter Family classic (and an update to an outtake from the Orange Blossom Special album).
Way Worn Traveller – duet with John Carter Cash on the 2003 CD Bitter Harvest.
Flesh and Blood – Johnny’s 1970s guitarist and ex-son-in-law Jerry Hensley released the 2005 CD Cool Breeze Blowin’, featuring a duet on this 70s Cash classic (ironically from before Jerry’s tenure in the band).
The Continuance – Johnny provides narration on the 2004 CD American River by Jonathan Elias with Rosanne Cash and Charlie Bisharat
It Takes One to Know Me – A beautiful duet with June. John Carter Cash and his then wife Laura Cash took this unfinished number and completed it it for the Legend box set.
Hangman – Four days before Cash died, he visited his next door neighbour, past guitarist, and ex-son in law Marty Stuart. Marty was finishing off this song and Cash helped him finish the lyric. Marty also grabbed the last photograph ever taken of Cash. From the album Ghost Train: The Studio B Sessions.
By 2002, Cash’s almost ten-year relationship with Rick Rubin had travelled an arc that few had likely expected. Only ten years earlier, he had had a bland Christmas album receive outright rejection from Mercury records, and then was left with nobody having any interest a gospel travelogue of the Holy Land other than Billy Graham.
Spending eight months recording with Rubin in 1993 proved to be transformative. The resulting 1994 album, American Recordings, was an artistic triumph. A solo acoustic record, it featured Cash singing inspired new material, hidden gems in his back catalogue, and some truly interesting non-country material brought to the table by Rubin. On the follow-up album, American II: Unchained, Rubin brought Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers to the table as a backing band. Then, they integrated the approaches with 2000’s American III: Solitary Man. On that album, they kept the band format, but stripped it back, relying heavily on acoustic guitar and sparse piano/organ backings from Heartbreaker Benmont Tench.
Of course, the other major shift between II and III was the massive decline in Cash’s health, starting with a Parkinsons diagnosis in 1997, a rediagnosis as Shy-Drager syndrome and a notice of 18 months to live, followed by a serious bout with pneumonia in 1998. The permanent damage on his lungs could be clearly heard on American III.
This backdrop set the stage for American IV. As the album would prove, his health had declined further by the time recording started in 2002, not surprising as he was now past doctors’ expectations of his life expectancy. Sometime in this window, recording became even more difficult than it was before. Singing became so belaboured for Cash, that he would often record a song one line at a time.
The ever-inventive Rubin, however, adapted. One of the secrets of his success had been taking the time to make Cash comfortable. Rather than repeating the past, he built out a new mode. Cash would record at his home studio in Hendersonville, TN, often with his old friends playing the music… Marty Stuart, Randy Scruggs, Cowboy Jack Clement, late 90s band member Kerry Marx, daughter-in-law Laura Cash, and Thom Bresh were just a few of the artists who came by at various times. And Cash’s son, John Carter Cash, was the guiding hand back home, producing and engineering. Rick would then work back in LA with his compatriots to overdub, and often fully re-record the backing tracks. As always, though, the focal point was Cash’s voice, and everyone seemed focused on that task.
Now, let’s dive into the album itself, and right off the bat, I’ll say that the first three tracks are absolute killers:
When the Man Comes Around
As the Unearthed box set would later show, this song was recorded as a solo acoustic number during sessions for American III: Solitary Man, but here’s it’s rendered as a band-led acoustic song. An original gospel song by Cash, this one’s heavey. It opens up with a vision of judgment from the final book of the Bible, Revelation:
“And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, ‘Come and see.’ and I saw, and behold a white horse”
Rev. 6:1
So we are into some dark territory in which Cash sings of the coming judgment of Jesus Christ. Over his career, Cash has covered a number of gospel styles. Most often he relied on comforting, and arguably saccharine, songs that talk of the promise of seeing deceased loved ones again in heaven. Understandable, given he grew up in the dust bowl where many died young, often in brutal circumstances (his older brother died in childhood in a horrific sawmill accident with a whirling head saw – Google at your own risk).
As he got into growing evangelical circles in the 1970s, his songs increasingly took on a moral tone, and spoke of the coming apocalypse, a theme that was common among Billy Graham and Cash’s other theological compatriots. But unlike past compositions in this vein, like When He Comes (“Glorified and transformed I’ll arise at his call/I’ll be ready/When he comes”), this one hits harder than anything he’d written before:
The hairs on your arm will stand up Will you partake of that last offered cup Or disappear into the potter’s ground? When the man comes around
This song integrates Johnny’s faith, his Man in Black persona, and his impending mortality. Yet this dark theme is contrasted by an upbeat arrangement driven by the clickety clack of acoustic guitar (note – Rubin is still avoiding the classic boom-chicka-boom Cash rhythm), a bit of lead acoustic guitar, and long sustained piano chords. It’s incredibly effective. And that leads us to…
Hurt
Another tune driven by acoustic guitar and sustained piano chords, but this one becomes much slower and atmospheric, and introduces what is perhaps the most interesting song Rubin has brought to Cash yet, Nine Inch Nails’ harrowing tale of addiction, Hurt:
I hurt myself today To see if I still feel I focus on the pain The only thing that’s real The needle tears a hole The old familiar sting Try to kill it all away But I remember everything What have I become? My sweetest friend Everyone I know goes away In the end
Nine Inch Nails are perhaps one of the stranger acts to get lumped into the “grunge” category. Essentially a one-man band and a moniker for Trent Reznor, his roots were really in electronic and industrial music. His debut, Pretty Hate Machine, garnered enough attention to get him onto Jimmy Iovine’s far more mainstream Interscope records, home of Madonna and Alanis Morissette to name a few of its major hitmakers. Despite the dark, abrasive nature of his songs and lyrics, Reznor achieved mainstream success with 1994’s The Downward Spiral, thanks to spellbinding performances at Lollapalooza, and a generation-defining mud-soaked set at Woodstock ‘94.
Hurt was a standout single from The Downward Spiral, it’s downbeat nature a contrast to the more aggressive material that typified the bulk of his work. In Cash’s hands, though, the song was transformed. While Cash had his own long-standing addiction issues, Reznor’s narrative shifts from a story of heroin addiction, to a sombre reflection on mortality. In Cash’s case, the song itself is also now near impossible to separate from the promotional video they recorded, which is a work of art in its own right. Filmed at House of Cash, it frames the “empire of dirt” theme of the song as being how even a life of accomplishment as vast as Cash’s is insignificant in the face of death.
These first two songs in combination are a powerful yin-yang experience that harken back to the dark/light duality of American Recordings. Pairing When the Man Come Around and Hurt together reconciles Gen X nihilism with Depression-era redemption. It’s a truly post-modern approach, framing conflicting ideas, both musical and philosophical, in tension with each other, something few other aging artists have been able to achieve.
We then round out the opening salvo with Give My Love to Rose. This brings us right back to the beginning of Cash’s career. It’s an original composition about a dying man passing on a final message to his estranged wife and son. Framing it against the opening numbers highlights how Cash’s identity has long been tied up in tragedy, devotion, love, loss, and hope.
Sadly, I can’t be so effusive about the rest of the album. On the previous few albums, late 60s-early 70s folk material had worked well for Cash and Rubin. But bringing Simon and Garfunkel’s megahit Bridge Over Troubled Water to the Cash-Rubin model sinks the song like a stone. It opens with a plodding 4/4 meter, again defined by acoustic guitar and sustained piano chords, but it lacks none of the tension or magic of Hurt. When Cash begins to sing, he comes across not as fragile on the breathy first few numbers, but stiff and wooden, much as how we heard him approach John Fogerty on 1985’s Rainbow.
And where Hurt built tension through the careful addition of a few tastefully added ornamentations (especially the mellotron flutes!), Bridge leads straight into the ditch when contemporary singer Fiona Apple enters the picture with her sad harmonies. More than twenty years on, Fiona is still a relevant, compelling artist (2020’s Fetch the Boltcutters was named album of the year by many critics), but her deliberately offkey vocals add so little to what is already a dull number. To be honest, I laughed the first time I heard it.
I’m a little warmer on Sting’s I Hung My Head, which follows immediately. But, again, anything interesting about the song is torn out of it. This is known as Sting’s one attempt at a country song, but he gave it a signature jazz lilt thanks to an orthodox 5/4 time signature. In Cash and Rubin’s hands, it’s pulled back to a straight 4/4 and uses the same sustained piano chord formula that introduced Bridge Over Troubled Water. However, the arrangement never goes beyond that. If it had been the only song like this on the album, it might have worked, but in this case its as if there’s too much minimalism, and the listener’s attention is sapped dry.
I’ll say the same for The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, that 1970s classic from Roberta Flack. Rubin gives plenty of space for Cash’s weary voice to shine, and in isolation this is quite a beautiful track. But after two plodding numbers that go nowhere, I always feel a bit stranded in the album by this point.
Thankfully, things turn around a bit with Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus. Originally a glorious techno-gospel stomp, Rubin got Red Hot Chili Peppers’ guitarist John Frusciante to strip it down to a blues acoustic riff (much like DM songwriter Martin Gore’s solo acoustic version released on the original single) that fit Cash like a glove. And then we turn a corner with the sunshiny Beatles’ classic In My Life, which can only make one ask, “why didn’t Cash cover the Beatles earlier?”
As Personal Jesus and In My Life add a bit of energy to the proceedings, the back half of the album takes itself a little less seriously and sees Cash singing a number of older tunes with warm, comfortable arrangements. Many of these are songs Cash had recorded before:
Sam Hall is a gristled cowboy tale that Cash featured on his epic concept album Ballads of the True West. This one injects some much needed humour and fun.
Danny Boy was given a country work out on Orange Blossom Special, and here is rendered tender arrangement recorded on a quiet pipe organ in an LA church
I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry is the Hank Williams classic that he covered in traditional style – including with Hank’s steel player Don Helms – for 1960’s Now There Was a Song. On this update, Nick Cave provides a vocal counterpoint, trading verses with Cash. His vocal is heartfelt, but, as with Fiona Apple, I don’t think adds much. He was much better on the American III outtake Cindy, adding an impish character that extended the song’s humour. Personally, I don’t think you need a second voice to make Cash sound bluer than he already is, because nobody does it better than Cash himself
Tear Stained Letter is another Cash oldie, this one dating to the early-70s, and it has the right mix of sadness and spite to add a new dimension to a fairly dark album.
And Streets of Laredo is a classic cowboy number that reminds of the songs he grew up with. He loved this song so much, he reused the melody several times on his own songs (anyone remember the Christmas classic, We are the Donkeys?). The acoustic style of this album fits this song well.
The only two new songs to the Cash oeuvre in the back half, then, fit the relaxed vibe of this part of the album really well. The Eagles’ Desperado is an ironic choice. Their California country rock is the kind of music that displaced Cash’s more traditional brand from bigger success in the 70s. But put their hit in Cash’s hands and it sounds like it was written in the same session as Streets of Laredo. Songwriter Don Henley joins in on harmony but, unlike Apple and Cave, wisely stays out of Cash’s way. And then there’s album closer We’ll Meet Again. Joined by a chorus of friends it’s a beautiful way to end the album. Sadly, this would be the final album released in Cash’s love, so these closing words are imbued with even deeper meaning than when first recorded:
We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
All in all, American IV isn’t as strong as its reputation might suggest. The two magnificent opening tracks create a heightened level of drama that the rest of the album struggles to sustain. Further, the “acoustic guitar with atmospheric piano/organ from Benmont” template grows a little stale over such a long album. When the album relaxes a bit in the back half, though, it redeems itself by creating a suitable goodbye from Cash. Looking back on American Recordings, they only had one modern song (Danzig’s Thirteen), which worked well. American IV could have benefited from a bit of trimming, and would not have suffered if they had simply left Hurt to stand alone (or maybe alongside Personal Jesus) as the “edgy” number.
Unearthed Volume Three: Redemption Songs
Unearthed Volume Three contains a mix of outtakes from the American III and IV sessions. From the latter are six songs that complement the main album, but unlike Unearthed Volume I, don’t quite stand up to the original material. We’ve got two oldies – 1968’s Jimmie Webb classic Wichita Lineman, first made famous by Glen Campbell, and 1959’s Marty Robbins train song, Big Iron. Both are solid and would have been a great fit on the back half of the album (for those of you with an original vinyl pressing of the album… surprise, they are part of the back half of the album!).
Then there are two lesser duets. Fiona Apple appears again on Cat Stevens’ Father and Son. What’s shocking is that she doesn’t sound any better than when Cash recorded this with his teenage stepdaughter Rosie Nix on 1974’s The Junkie and the Juicehead and Me. While Fiona remains a highly respected artist in the 2020’s, she seems much better suited to leading her own material, rather than guesting on someone else’s. Joe Strummer’s duet on Bob Marley’s Redemption Song apparently came out of a jam session focused on a shared love of reggae. Reggae was instrumental to Strummer’s work in The Clash, so he knows the song by the back of his hand. I simply don’t think their voices work very well together.
Then we have another church organ-led number with You’ll Never Walk Alone. The melody is too complex for Cash’s voice, though. They did right by choosing Danny Boy over this one.
Last, we have Singer of Songs, a folk-gospel number by Nashville songwriter Tim O’Connell. This is one that should have made the cut. Almost like a follow-up to his 1969 b-side The Folk Singer, it’s almost a manifesto for Cash as an artist:
I’m not a great man, I don’t claim to be And say, I was a singer, Lord, I was a singer Yes, I was a singer of songs.
What a testimony to a nearly five-decade, singular career that spoke truth to so many people. RIP Johnny Cash.
American IV: The Man Comes Around: 4/5
Unearthed III: Redemption Songs: 4/5
Other Songs from the Era:
Keep on the Sunnyside/The Road to Kaintuck/Temptation/Will You Miss Me When I’m Gone/Wildwood Flower – At many points in Johnny’s career, Johnny tried to use his own success to boost the careers of June Carter as well as the Carter Family more broadly. Finally at the end of both of their lives June received some long overdue critical admiration thanks to her Wildwood Flower album. Essentially a career retrospective – as were pretty much every Carter Family project since the original trio retired – the folk arrangements here are warm and rootsy and allow the aging June to shine, proving her to be a rightful heir to the Carter Family legacy as country music’s first family. Johnny helps out here, largely with backing vocals, but they finally put out their cheeky Temptation duet which was first recorded in the 1970s but never released, yet showed up in their live set from time to time. Quite funny to hear an aging couple sing this one. These are all June at her best.
Tears in the Holston River – If ever a Cash song could make you cry, this is the one. An absolutely jaw-dropping collaboration with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band on Will the Circle Be Unbroken Vol. III.
September When It Comes – a beautiful duet with Rosanne on her album Rules of Travel, as well as The Legend box set. Another one to make you cry.
For You – Dave Matthews was a guitar virtuoso who built his career at frat parties and jam band festivals. Somehow he connected with Cash, perhaps after joining the board of directors for Willie Nelson’s Farm Aid in 2000. They recorded this duet for the We Were Soldiers soundtrack. I wish they hadn’t.
Johnny Cash Interviewed by Alan Light – a promo release for American IV.
A Satisfied Mind – This is a solo acoustic version on the Kill Bill Vol. 2 soundtrack. The full version would be later released on American VI: Ain’t No Grave.
Let The Lower Lights Be Burning/Softly and Tenderly – Two more gospel duets with Joanne Cash Yates’ released on her 2007 CD Gospel.
Keep Your Eyes on Jesus – A fun traditional country gospel number with Pam Tillis and the Jordanaires on the 2003 CD, Livin’ Lovin’ Losin’ – Songs of the Louvin Brothers.
Hold Fast to the Right – A great acoustic duet with June on The Unbroken Circle: The Musical Heritage of the Carter Family
Guess Things Happen That Way – One last duet with Jack Clement on his 2004 CD Guess Things Happen That Way.
I’ll make a confession before digging into American III: Solitary Man. In my memory, it was basically American II Part 2. Having largely dismissed this album in my mind, on recently revisiting it, I found I was actually quite wrong. In the arc of Cash’s recordings with Rick Rubin, it represents another development in how they reframed Cash for a new generation. Their first outing, American Recordings, Rubin stripped Cash back to just his voice and acoustic guitar to stunning results. With American II: Unchained, he brought in Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers – along with Cash’s close friend and ex-son-in-law Marty Stuart – to build out modern roots rock arrangements, again with great success.
The opening track on Solitary Man, Tom Petty’s Won’t Back Down, does indeed sound like more of the same. I mean, it’s a Tom Petty track with Tom Petty singing background vocals. However, listen through and there’s a major change… there’s no electric guitar or drums. And that essentially creates the template for Cash and Rubin’s third outing together. Like the first two, there is a mix of modern songs from unusual sources, alongside hidden gems from Cash’s back catalogue, and traditional numbers that shaped Johnny as an artist. But, new for this album is an emphasis on acoustic arrangements and an increased number of duets, including bringing some surprising characters to the table.
Perhaps what the American albums are best known for are the unusual covers. On the first we had Danzig’s Thirteen, and the ante upped with Soundgarden’s Rusty Cage on American II. American III eases us into the more adventurous material. It begins with a relatively straightforward acoustic rendering of U2’s One, perhaps one of their own more traditional ballads and a far cry from their post-apocalpytic collaboration with Cash on Zooropa’s The Wanderer.
But the two boldest covers form the heart and soul of the album. First is the title track from indie folk artist Will Oldham’s first outing as Bonnie “Prince” Billy, I See a Darkness. It’s a bold choice, offering a stark look into depression and the desire to find hope amidst life’s trials:
But did you ever, ever notice, The kind of thoughts I got? Well, you know I have a love, A love for everyone I know And you know I have a drive, To live, I won’t let go But can you see this opposition, Comes rising up sometimes? That it’s dreadful imposition, Comes blacking in my mind And then I see a darkness…
Oldham himself, a relatively unknown artist outside of hipster circles, and certainly not on the commercial level of Petty or U2, provides backing vocals. Much like Petty on Won’t Back Down, the writer’s voice complements Cash’s reading. Cash’s own performances here are so authoritative that it’s as if the writers are handing their material over for Cash to own permanently – a sentiment expressed by others featured on these American albums including the aforementioned Danzig, and most notably Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor, whom we’ll discuss on American IV.
Then the album gets really dark thanks to Australian goth poet Nick Cave, who offers The Mercy Seat. This one’s the story of a wrongfully convicted man who goes to the electric chair. His execution is graphically detailed and all wrapped up in Christian imagery, as is much of Cave’s material. It reminds, however, of a great deal of dark material that exists in Cash’s catalogue. This isn’t the first time Cash has sung of capital punishment, most memorably, perhaps, through the black humour of 25 Minutes to Go. But there’s also side 1 of The Sound of Johnny Cash in which the character of every song dies by the end. Death has been ever-present in Cash’s songs, so while these American albums have been critiqued for being overly dark, their morbidity is not without precedent.
Of course, by this album, death was really beginning to loom large in Cash’s personal life. Cave was invited to duet with Cash (as documented on Unearthed), and he’s spoken about how Cash came hobbling into his Hendersonville studio like a walking dead man, only to sit down and nail his vocal. This is attributable to a bout with pneumonia between American II and III that cut short his tour and left him often wheezing.
You can certainly hear the decline in his vocal delivery between these albums. However, the change in voice lends the album some impactful heft, and the wizardry here is that Rubin chooses to highlight, rather than hide, Cash’s vocals. This is where the arrangements on the album are particularly moving. Instead of rocking out with all of the Heartbreakers, most of the tracks are led by Petty on guitar and Benmont Tench on piano/organ/keyboards, with support from Cash friends Marty Stuart and Randy Scruggs. The Mercy Seat takes this approach to the extreme, building around a fragile piano and pump organ arrangement that grows into perhaps the most dramatic conclusion of any Cash song. It’s something to behold.
It could be argued that that song teeters on melodrama, and Rubin is never shy about going straight for the emotional jugular. Neil Diamond’s Solitary Man is arguably just as melodramatic – a tale of the independent man writing off every woman who’s scorned him – but overall, the exaggerated emotion works well. The heavy first side is lightened by two old time numbers, 1949’s That Lucky Old Sun, and the 1905 Broadway number, Nobody. The deep irony in Nobody – “And until I get somethin’ from somebody, sometime/I don’t intend to do nothin’ for nobody, no time!” – is like a universal cheer for the underdog.
The second side of the album is surprisingly filled with a number of traditional Cash numbers. There’s a great David Allan Coe number, Would You Lay With Me (In a Field of Stone), followed by a gentle reading of one of Cash’s best songs of the 80s, Field of Diamonds. On Diamonds, we finally get to hear June’s voice on an American album as she provides backing vocals along with Sheryl Crow.
He also brings back Country Trash from his 1973 album, Any Old Wind That Blows, which serves as this album’s Southern Accent:
I’m saving up dimes for a rainy day I got about a dollar laid away The wind’s from the south and the fishing’s good Got a potbelly stove and a cord of wood Mama turns the left-overs into hash I’m doing alright for country trash
And then turns to another forgotten 80s composition, I’m Leavin’ Now, off of his last solo Columbia release, into a jaunty acoustic duet with Merle Haggard. Merle’s voice is getting old and gristled and fits like a glove with Cash’s.
Then, tucked away at the end are two even older numbers than the traditionals on the first side. There’s Mary of the Wild Moors, an early 19th-century British song about a betrayed woman left alone with her child. And closing tune Wayfaring Stranger is a 19th-century American hymn that brings back the oft-visited Cash theme of crossing over Jordan to peace after death.
Which leaves us with one final song to discuss, Cash’s sole new contribution for this album, Before My Time. What a lyric he delivers here, as he ties all the themes of his many works – love, melancholy, tears, death – and how they’re nothing new that hadn’t been written before:
Old fashioned love words spoken then Keep coming back around again Nothing’s changed except the names Their love burned just like mine Before my time
And then he ties them into his own story, writing his love as something eternal:
If someway they had seen and knew How it would be for me and you They’d wish for love like yours And they would wish for love like mine Before my time
What a touching tribute to his deep love for June.
This album is not without its flaws. Again, it’s a couple of tracks too long. It’s a bit lopsided, with the second side relaxed compared to the hand-wringing drama profiled on the first side. His delivery of a few songs, like One, is a bit stiff at times. But overall, it’s a good progression in the American rebirth of Cash. It pushes him in new directions while helping him further embrace his past. And its acoustic vibe gives more room for Cash’s vocals to breathe compared to the rockier American II. Plus, every old Cash fan must be happy to finally hear a duet with Merle.
Unearthed Volume Three: Redemption Songs (Pt. 1)
The Unearthed box set gives us eight more songs from these sessions (Unearthed Vol. 3 includes outtakes from American III and IV). Much like the outtakes from American II, these are more experiments that didn’t all work, but again show how Cash and Rubin got to the acoustic sound and the song choices that drive the final album. By and large they are more traditional-sounding Cash and are pretty easy to love for any old Cash fan.
They revisit 1979’s The L&N Don’t Stop Here Anymore, first recorded for the contemporary sounding Silver album, and here brought back to a much folkier arrangement. In fact it’s the first remotely Boom Chicka Boom thing heard on a Rubin production. Chattanooga Sugar Babe is a fun cocaine romp written by Cash’s sometime acoustic guitar and dobro player back in the 60’s, Norman Blake. He takes on the George Jones signature tune He Stopped Loving Her Today. It’s a pleasant enough version, but how can anyone touch George’s performance?
Hard Times Come Again No More is a really bare solo number that would have been right at home on American Recordings. Cindy is a bawdy duet with Nick Cave – Cave ensures this one’s super fun. Salty Dog is another randy number, driven by a great bluegrass arrangement that I assume is Marty Stuart and Randy Scruggs.
Then, things get deep with Gentle on My Mind. This one sees Cash duetting with Glen Campbell, and, again, Cash does just fine taking the reigns from the man who mastered the tune. Then, You Are My Sunshine makes you wonder why Cash had never sung this classic before. It’s so calming and peaceful, a thing of perfect beauty.
And our final outtake is an early version of his intense apocalyptic ballad, When the Man Comes Around. One of the very few songs from this era rendered in a boom chicka boom style, I can only assume that this is Cash and Marty and his friends recording in Hendersonville, without a re-arrangement from Rubin. It’s a nice sneak peak into the classic album that would follow, as well as a window into an alternate 90s in which Cash’s signature sound lived on.
American III: Solitary Man – 4/5
Redemption Songs Part 1 – 4/5
Other Songs from the Era:
The Solitary Man Interview with Tim Robbins – a promotional CD interview with actor Tim Robbins.
I’m On Fire – A great cover of the Bruce Springsteen song for Badlands: A Tribute to Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska. It’s a nice fusing of the modern American style with Cash’s boom-chicka-boom trademark arrangement, and I’m assuming Bob Wooten is on this one.
I Still Miss Someone – In 1999, June Carter Cash toured behind her Press On album, with Johnny joining in. She hired up and coming fiddler Laura White for the tour, who would marry John Carter Cash in 2000. Johnny did a gorgeous traditional country duet with Laura (now Cash) for her album Among My Souvenirs
I Dreamed About Mama Last Night – a great home recording with all his friends released on the Hank Williams tribute, Timeless.
I Am a Pilgrim – an updated electronic version included on the gospel soundtrack Soul Lift – Soundtrack for the Soul.
Passin’ Thru – A great old school bluegrass gospel tune with Earl Scruggs, for Earl Scruggs and Friends. Johnny does spoken word and Don Henley leads.
Big River – BIG. LOUD. MODERN. COUNTRY. Waylon and Johnny help out new band Trick Pony for their self-titled debut album with a fun update to Johnny’s classic tune.
Meet Me in Heaven – Johnny sings with Janette Carter on Kindred Spirits: A Tribute to the Songs of Johnny Cash. Janette doesn’t have the strongest voice, but this definitely has the old time Carter Family vibe to it.
Let’s be clear: American Recordings redeemed Johnny Cash’s legacy. End of story.
Cash’s work up through 1970 built his legacy as an icon of country music. But beginning from the mid-1970s through to his departure from Mercury records in 1990, he released a string of albums ranging from great to terrible, but generally mediocre. Sales dwindled. Hits dried up. Relevance was dead and buried. And by 1992, he was without a label, having released a Christmas album through a label that targeted truck stop impulse buys, and a gospel album given away by Billy Graham’s evangelistic organization. An appearance on U2’s Zooropa hinted at some cool factor, but Cash had now signed a contract to appear regularly in Branson, MO, confirming that he was indeed a has-been, suitable only for the oldies circuit.
As fortune would have it, though, hot LA producer Rick Rubin was starting a new label and had an interest in taking a gamble on Cash. Rubin was an idiosyncratic character. He co-founded legendary hip hop label Def Jam records out of a New York college dormitory, helping craft groundbreaking records by LL Cool J, Beastie Boys and Run-DMC. He moved onto working with heavy metal and rock acts like Slayer and The Cult. After a split from Def Jam, he founded Def American Recordings building out an ongoing mix of metal, rock and hip hop acts. He also continued working as a producer, notably working with the Red Hot Chili Peppers on their blockbuster Blood Sugar Sex Magik album.
But in 1992, he was planning a re-launch of his label as American Recordings, and he had Cash in his sights. He was working with Tom Petty on what would become the Wildflowers album and was becoming obsessed with roots music. Having seen Cash perform at the Bob Dylan tribute in October, he believed the spark was still there. Apparently the two then had a tentative meeting in Dec. 1992 following a Cash concert in LA that began with a two-minute silent sizing up, one of the other. Petty encouraged Rick to go for it. From there, the story goes that they hit it off well enough for Cash to sign a new contract, and by May, Johnny was recording in Rick’s LA living room.
What happened in the sessions is nothing short of magical given Cash’s now long track record with a near endless string of producers. Rick simply asked Johnny to come with his acoustic guitar and play what he wanted to play. What a simple idea, and yet no one had thought of asking this legend to just be himself.
That’s not to say the album came easily. The album itself is drawn from a Dec. 2 live performance at the Viper Lounge in LA (organized by Rubin) and three days later that week in Rick’s living room. But this was prefaced by previous sessions in Rick’s living room in May, June, and July, at Ocean Way Recording Studio in LA in September, and sessions at Cash’s home studio in Hendersonville, TN in October and November. This rhythm paralleled Cash’s residencies in Branson, MO, playing greatest hits for the grey-haired set, a contract that continued through 1994.
So, there are hours and hours of outtakes, some of which have been released on the Unchained box set, but the early sessions remain in the vault. While this album is now seen as a classic and the beginning of an incredible era in Cash’s career, there were no guarantees through these 1993 sessions. If anything, when sessions were dragging on in the past, it was an indicator that all was not well with Cash. Addiction was usually taking over, and he was losing focus.
Interestingly, that might have been the story here. Cash had indeed returned to rehab one final time in 1992, his third time in less than a decade. And if the Rubin sessions had never worked, he would have finished out his career with endless Branson concerts and likely no further recordings. There’s a truly sad path that might have been trod if not for this album’s success.
Thankfully, that’s not what happened. Plus, if it took all of those months to get ready to record the proper album in December, looking at the session tapes, one would never know. There were a few excursions along the way that never made the final cut – June singing along to the Carter Family murder ballad Banks of the Ohio, someone playing electric guitar on Billy “ZZ Top” Gibbons’ I Witnessed a Crime. But by and large, the songs that made the final cut were all first played on the fateful four days of May 17-20, 1993.
So what are these songs? The many American albums (there are essentially eleven in total if you treat the Unearthed box set as four albums) are famed for the genre-bending covers of Nine Inch Nails and Depeche Mode. But return to this album, and you’ll see there’s nothing that sensational here. Rubin really did give Cash a lot of latitude, and the result is an impeccable album in which Cash revisits his past and writes his future in a much different fashion than the hits sets he was playing in Branson.
We begin with four excellent new Cash songs, really his best new material in a long time. A great new train song, Let the Train Blow the Whistle, lets us know we’re on a voyage of mortality from the outset:
“tell the gossipers and liars, I will see them in the fires… no regrets, all my debts will be paid when I get laid, let her blow, let her blow, let her blow.”
Wow. Then there’s Drive On, a stark tale of life for returned Vietnam vets, now 20 years after the war ended. It’s a great talking blues that extends the material Cash was writing on the Man in Black album. Back then, Cash was deeply impacted by a visit to entertain the troops during a quick fly-in concert, and the sharp contrast of performing shortly thereafter for President Nixon at the White House. Interestingly, from the early demos to the final product, he changed a key lyric from, “my children love me and they understand”, to “my children love me but they don’t understand”. Again, the song sinks into stark reflection on the darker times in life.
Then we have Redemption, about as harsh a gospel song as Cash had ever sung, let alone written. He may have sung it at a Billy Graham Crusade in Atlanta, but this is not a warm hymn like Just as I Am. This is a man who’s been through the darkness of life, looking to Jesus to carry him through battles with the devil:
“My old friend Lucifer came/fought to keep me in chains/but I saw through the tricks/of six-sixty-six”
Last, Like a Solider likens the darkness of aging to that Vietnam trauma. While it fits the album like a glove, this is one song that was demoed with previous guitarist Kerry Marx before Rubin came along. Thus, while Cash released a great variety of material through the 80s, he obviously had some inkling to pursue these themes even before Rick Rubin came along.
His own songs are complemented by a song tailor made for Cash by ex-son-in-law Nick Lowe that was ten years in the making. Apparently, Lowe played an unfinished version of The Beast in Me back in 1981 before the Wembley concert that would be documented on Live in London. Remember, back in 1981, Cash had yet to go to rehab for the first time. He had fired long-term bassist Marshall Grant, his marriage to June Carter Cash was in tatters (she was living in London with Lowe and her daughter Carlene), and the general public had no inkling of what lay behind is squeaky-clean Christian image. The final product is a man wrestling with his inner demons, when those demons are what brings him fame and attention. The refrain is so powerfully simple: “God help the beast in me.”
In addition to new compositions, he also revisited interesting material from his past that build out this theme. Delia’s Gone was first recorded (with two different stories) way back for 1962’s The Sound of Johnny Cash. Kris Kristofferson’s Why Me, Lord, was played regularly on their recent world tour as the Highwaymen. Oh, Bury Me Not is a cowboy song from Cash’s childhood recorded for his 1965 double album Ballads of the True West. Then there’s another cowboy song The Tennessee Stud which, when sung in front of a young LA audience, gets lots of laughs thanks to many double entendres that were likely never meant to be there in the original lyric. Written by Jimmy Driftwood, whose songs would be made famous by Johnny’s old best friend Johnny Horton, in this context it opens Cash’s country roots directly to a new audience.
Then there are two songs from artists who recorded with Bob Johnston, the Columbia master behind Cash’s classic Folsom Prison and San Quentin albums. Master poet Leonard Cohen’s classic Bird on a Wire, and Loudon Wainwright III’s The Man Who Couldn’t Cry. Both are sad tales of strange mortality, and both were brought to Cash by Rubin, as if his new producer was connecting him with an alternate version of his past.
That really only leaves two “wild songs” from Rubin’s left field tastes. Thirteen was written by ex-Misfits frontman Glen Danzig and is another dark one about how fate can curse us to destruction. And then there’s Tom Waits’ epic Down there by the Train. When Cash sings about identifying with Judas Iscariat, he draws you deep into the darkest burrows of his soul.
And that’s what this album’s about: a man wrestling with the darkness of his past and his impending mortality. I can remember a Rolling Stone article around the time of this album in which Cash told the story of the two dogs: one dark with a light spot, and the other light with a dark spot. Johnny talked about how that reflected his own life, in that even at his best there was always darkness in him. However, no matter how dark things got, no matter how the beast seemed to dominate, there was always good inside him that could redeem his darkness. The songs and imagery may be dark, but there is so much light in this album.
Unearthed I: Who’s Gonna Cry:
Following the massive success of Cash’s fourth album in the American series, the five-disc Unchained box set was released. Disc 1, entitled Who’s Gonna Cry comprises a number of outtakes from the 1993 sessions. While these don’t reach back to the original May sessions, they do give a window into how the trust was built between Cash and Rubin between that point and the “real” sessions in December. Basically, Johnny just played a lot of old favourites.
Cash sings some of his own deep cuts. The beautiful Flesh and Blood from the I Walk the Line soundtrack. The deeply misogynist 60s single Understand Your Man, now without the mariachi trumpets that made it a lesser successor to Ring of Fire. Early Columbia material like Songs of our Soil’s The Caretaker, and the Ride this Train classic I’m Going to Memphis. Plus one of his favourite self-penned gospel numbers, No Earthly Good, first recorded for the Rambler.
Beyond that he taps into all his favourite songwriters. Childhood hero Jimmie Rodgers’ Waiting for a Train. Merle Travis’ coal mining tale that Cash feature on Folsom Prison, Dark as a Dungeon. Hank Snow’s cheeky Two Timin’ Woman. The Carter Family’s murder ballad Banks of the Ohio (though with Carter backing vocals deleted). The heartbreaking narrative of The Long Black Veil. Add in a few gospel numbers, too, like The Fourth Man (first recorded for 1969’s The Holy Land) and the intimate Breaking Bread. (Interestingly, breaking bread would be part of Cash and Rubin’s routine – after June died, Cash would celebrate a virtual communion with Rubin every morning, apparently a deeply moving experience for both). Last, Cash finds inspiration in his contemporaries, too, be they Billy Joe Shaver with one of Cash’s favourite tunes, Old Chunk of Coal; and two Kristofferson numbers, Just the Other Side of Nowhere (which Cash first recorded for use in a direct-to-video 80s Bogdanovic film) and Casey’s Last Ride.
What’s particularly striking to me is that there is no Folsom Prison Blues or Walk the Line or Ring of Fire. With the affordances created by Rubin, Cash built a new window into his legacy. The gospel music, and train songs, and murder ballads all point to his deeper identity as a man of the earth and the soil.
So many of these have older versions, but putting them together in this way reframes Cash’s legacy. It’s simply stunning to hear Cash play through his catalogue without any adornment. Such a simple idea, yet so effective. To that end, both albums are essential listening. The albums can be critiqued for being too one dimensional, focusing on Cash as outlaw. Indeed, Rubin deliberately sought out serious, heavy material. But Cash had wasted too much time disengaged from his career, releasing lightweight albums that would never find an audience. Rubin helped Johnny reconnect with himself and with an audience. Five stars from Rolling Stone. A Grammy Award. A future. A legacy. Magic.
American Recordings: 5/5
Who’s Gonna Cry: 5/5
Other Songs from the Era:
Thirteen – a full length version was included on Unearthed Disc 5
I’m Just an Old Chunk of Coal – a version released on the Thirteen promo CD might be an earlier take than the version on Unearthed.
The Little Drummer Boy – a long, dull version of the Christmas classic recorded with Neil Young for a Christmas album by Young’s long time steel player Ben Keith.
Tennessee Stud – the song that got all the laughs live was later recorded with Michael Martin Murphy in the summer of 1994. Released in 1997 on his album The Horse Legends.
Forever Young – Lots of old friends on board including Randy Scruggs, Reggie Young, and Marty Stuart, to put together a decent cover of this Dylan classic for Red Hot and Country.
Folsom Prison Blues – Johnny provides narration to this slick version by Brooks & Dunn on Red Hot and Country
Blistered – A tune written by June’s nephew who died in his late teens way back in the late 60s. Marty Stuart helps out too to support son-in-law and 80s bassist Jimmy TIttle for Jimmy’s 1995 album It’s In the Attitude
Thirteen – Live at the Pantages Theatre in January 1995, on the Thirteen promotional CD
I Washed My Face in the Morning Dew – a solo number for Real: The Tom T. Hall Project
Time of the Preacher – a hard rock cover of a Willie Nelson tune that cashed in on Johnny’s rising popularity in the grunge era. With John Carter Cash, Krist Novoselic (Nirvana) and Kim Thayil (Soundgarden) for Twisted Willie
In Your Mind – produced by Ry Cooder for the Dead Man Walking soundtrack.
Where the Soul of Men Never Dies – on the Cluster Pluckers’ CD Unplucked
Go Wild/A Winding Stream – supporting Carlene Carter on Little Acts of Treason, which included Heartbreaker Benmont Tench and Howie Epstein on these sessions – they’ll feature prominently on the next American album..
Get Rhythm – a duet with John Stewart on Airdream Believer.
When He Comes – a Cash-penned gospel number on sister Joanne Cash Yate’s I’ll Always Have Jesus to Talk To, as well as the 2007 compilation Gospel
Yesterday – Johnny played acoustic guitar and co-produced a 1995 album by Anita Carter, released on House of Cash.
A Comment from Johnny Cash on Rose Maddox – Johnny gives a lovely spoken word tribute to this lesser-known country legend who had been recording since the late 1940s. Available on her album, $35 And a Dream.
By 1991, Cash’s career was not in good shape. His five albums at Mercury had really gone nowhere. In March, he went into the studio and recorded an update to a classic from his 1959 Columbia Records debut, Don’t Take Your Guns to Town, plus a new gospel song, God’s Hands. The lyrics to this one were prescient, and the kind of positive-thinking, motivational faith that Cash often gravitated toward:
“I have come to realize I can’t do it on my own…
Gonna put it in God’s Hands/Gonna do the best I can/That’s all I can do.”
Sadly, this was music destined to be forgotten. He had recorded an album full of this stuff with wunderkind Marty Stuart at the producer desk in 1982. That album had crack session players and beautiful southern gospel arrangements. And Columbia let it languish, finally selling it off to Word records for a 1986 release.
Gospel music was kind of Johnny’s curse. He spoke many times over the years about how it was his first love, and the music he grew up wanting to sing. It created a rift with Sun Records owner Sam Phillips, when Sam had little interest in letting Cash make such music. When he switched to Columbia, the second album he released was Hymns. By the end of the 60s, he had released a follow-up (Hymns from the Heart), a travelogue about Israel with original gospel songs including the classic Daddy Sang Bass (The Holy Land), and numerous album tracks and single-only releases of gospel material. During the 70s, however, Columbia’s support of Cash’s gospel work languished, particularly after the failure of Gospel Road, the film and double album on the life of Christ that had little commercial viability and ended his long-time relationship with his manager. Sings Precious Memories was a rather bland collection of hymns, a 1975 gospel album went unreleased, and Cash was allowed to take his passion project, 1979’s A Believer Sings the Truth, to a small independent label. In the 1980s, Columbia buried 1982’s Believe in Him, and Mercury hadn’t released anything. A new shot at some run-of-the-mill gospel, with an unknown producer (Mike Daniel) and an unhappy label was not a good path forward. Cash abandoned the song, and moved on to a Christmas album (which would be rejected by Mercury and end his tenure there).
Despite these setbacks, Cash remained undeterred. In February of 1992, Johnny, June and their son John, went to Israel to document their travels in story and song. The whole thing was filmed, creating a follow-up of sorts to both the Holy Land album with its travelogue approach, and the Gospel Road film.
The album, then, is essentially an audio rip of a 45-minute television film where Johnny, June and John guide us through the Biblical significance of Israel. Without a label to support it, and with his typical country albums no longer selling, it should have come as no surprise to Cash that the album had absolutely no commercial potential. Only one buyer stepped up… Billy Graham’s evangelical organization. Thus, while Cash may have envisaged a TV special in which he spread the good news of Jesus to the masses, he was really tied to the evangelistic activities of Graham’s organization. Once again, Cash found himself in that place where the music industry simply was not interested in the music he was truly passionate about.
Of course, the blame for this should not fall on the industry itself. While gospel music obviously targets a subset of the broader market, many “secular” artists have had great success with gospel albums. The real problem here lies squarely on Cash’s shoulders. A few months out from another visit to rehab, Cash was probably not in the strongest mental state here, and it shows. Couple that with a lack of financial backing and you have a poorly produced album of mediocre songs with a narrow target market. This thing was destined to fail.
If you have the opportunity to hear this album – and it is indeed one of the rarest albums in Cash’s oeuvre – you’ll find a mix of material. First, it should be noted that the quality here isn’t great. The album was produced by Johnny’s publicist and personal aide, Hugh Waddell. Some of this was recorded on location, and then re-recorded in Nashville in the summer of 1992. We’re a long way from the 1970s when Johnny owned his own studio and had big label backing. Then we have three main types of songs. The album opens and closes with some cheesy early 90s material that sounds exactly like what it is – theme songs for 90s TV. The heart of the album intersperses their travels through Israel with gospel singalongs. And in the middle we have a couple of songs by John Carter Cash, now in his early 20s.
As you can guess, I’m not too keen on the openers and closers. Return to the Promised Land is a galluping romp that sounds like a generic TV theme. When I Look has a catchy gospel chorus, but it’s also driven by some very cheesy saxophone. And the message – “I believe that sweethearts go together everywhere… When I look beyond the river, all I can see is you and I” – is sentimental gospel at its worst, lacking in any sound theological footing. Closer, God’s Hands, is better, reflecting the “I’m gonna strive to be better” theology that Cash was fond of.
The bulk of the gospel songs in the middle are songs we’ve heard Cash do before, and none of these rival previous versions. Despite the travelogue taking us to places like Meggido (from where we get the word Armeggedon), the songs don’t reflect the apocalyptic theology that Cash sometimes leaned toward. Instead, they’re largely those “longing to see loved ones in heaven” sentimental numbers. Over the Next Hill We’ll Be Home has a good boom chicka boom feel; a brief I Won’t Have to Cross Jordan Alone is a wonderful solo acoustic number; Far Side Banks of Jordan is reminiscent of 70s Cash (but not as good); and there’s a nice acoustic version of The Old Gospel Ship.
There are a few surprises too. Fishers of Man is a classic children’s gospel song, here with some overpowering Jew’s harp. What On Earth Will You Do (For Heaven’s Sake) is one of Johnny’s favourites, and here is presented in simple acoustic form. And the classic The Old Rugged Cross… well thanks to too many synths is not a classic.
John Carter Cash trades verses with June and Johnny on the acoustic leaning Let Me Help You Carry the Weight. It’s fine, although June is not sounding her best here. Lord Take These Hands is his solo number and it’s here that you see he doesn’t have the gravitas of his father to carry material on his own. It’s a forgettable ballad with overwrought military drums.
All in all, it’s not surprising that no label was interested in this album. The few shining moments are the solo acoustic numbers, and that’s exactly what would soon redeem his career thanks to Rick Rubin’s guiding production hand. Cash may have had grand ambitions here, but he no longer had the ability to realize them. I can only thank God that Rubin would have the vision to revitalize Cash’s career. Otherwise, this would have been a tragic conclusion to Cash’s monumental career.
2/5
Other Songs from the Era:
Doin’ My Time – a great duet with Marty Stuart from This One’s Gonna Hurt You. This used to be a live staple when Marty was in Cash’s band, and was in fact recorded by them but not released in 1980 (until the Legend box set came out).
The Pilgrim Outro – Johnny provides narration to what would be included on the 1999 Marty Stuart album, The Pilgrim.
Farm Aid V – Six Highwaymen songs recorded in March 1992 now collected on The Highwaymen – Live.
It Ain’t Me Babe/Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door – Johnny and June brought out their classic duet for the Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration, then joined in on a big group number for Knockin’.
The Devil Comes Back to Georgia – a super fun number where Johnny narrates over Charlie Daniels’ fiddle. On the Charlie Daniels’ album Heroes
Hell This Ain’t Heaven – John Schneider was one half of the Dukes of Hazzard. Johnny provided the single The General Lee for that show, and then guested with Waylon on one of John’s solo albums. Here he returns on a later outtake now available on Johnny Cash & John Schneider: The Lost Session. Interestingly, recorded on the same day, across town from The Devil Comes Back to Georgia.
Don’t Take Your Ones to Town – Johnny was back on Sesame Street with an amusing update to his 1959 classic.
Like a Solider/Soldier Boy/Hello Out There/Poor Valley Girl – Now we’re into early 1993 and Johnny’s out of rehab. He met Rick Rubin in late 1992, but hadn’t recorded with him yet. These are four demos with a studio band (including Kerry Marx) included on the rare re-release of Return to the Promised Land. There’s also a nice interview with Johnny’s daughter Carrie on this one. There are some glimmers of what would become with Rick Rubin.
The Wanderer – Before we give all the credit to Rubin for saving Cash’s career, U2 had some belief that Cash could do something beyond middle of the road country. Bono wrote the lyrics to this post-apocalyptic space-age country tune with Cash in mind and got him to record it while in Ireland. This song is fantastic, and unlike anything else in Cash’s catalogue. In fact, it’s far more adventurous than Rubin’s work. It was released on U2’s Zooropa album, with a slightly extended version included on a Wim Wenders soundtrack, and the 2020 reissue of Mystery of Life.
Johnny Cash in Ireland – another greatest hits live set. Notable for Sandy Kelly guesting on Forty Shades of Green, and the return of Bob Wooten on guitar.
Ballad of the Two Cookie Kid – a kids’ song for the book, The Good, the Bad, and the two-Cookie Kid.
Farm Aid VI – Four more Highwaymen live tracks also on The Highwaymen – Live. From April 1993. In May 1993 he would start recording with Rick Rubin, so this is really the end of an era in many ways.
After touring solo and with the Highwaymen in 1990, 1991 wound up being a less productive year for Cash. He had a quick run into the studio in March, one song of which would wind up on Return to the Promised Land, but otherwise, his recording sessions were limited to two days in June, plus some quick overdubs in August, to churn out another Christmas albums.
For many artists, Christmas albums turn out to be their top sellers because they can be dropped back on the shelves year after year, and often attract a broader audience then even an artist’s biggest hits. For Cash, his Christmas albums never quite resonated in the same way as his peers. In 1963, he released a singular album, The Christmas Spirit, which drew on his boom-chicka-boom style, but also reflected some of the darkness he experienced growing up in rural Arkansas during the depression. In the early 70s, his Family Christmas album allowed each of his band members to share homey stories and songs as if they were singing around the fireplace. Definitely a warm Christmas album, but no real hits. Last, in the early 80s, he released a generic orchestral Christmas album.
All of this places Country Christmas in a unique place, for it is, indeed, the most “country” of his Christmas albums. There’s nary a boom nor a chicka to be found on this one. Instead, it’s a bunch of Nashville session players (including current guitarist Kerry Marx, a local session player himself), playing typical early 90s fiddle and pedal steel arrangements.
What is most surprising here, is that despite being Cash’s arguably most “country” sounding record, it was recorded by a bunch of jazz and R&B cats. Producer Ralph Jungheim was known for his work with people like Earl Hines or guitar great Joe Pass. And the music was played by Jack Hale’s band. An old colleague of Cash’s thanks to his role as a trumpeter in long-time Cash touring band the Memphis Horns, Hale’s credits extended far beyond country… you can even hear him on U2’s Rattle & Hum recorded at Sun Studios in late 1987.
As for the songs themselves, there’s not a lot to say. Silent Night, Joy to the World, O Little Town of Bethlehem, Away in a Manger, O Come All Ye Faithful, and Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, were all on his most recent Christmas release, Classic Christmas. So, in many ways we simply have an alternate version of that album – one orchestral, one traditional country style. Blue Christmas was on the Christmas Spirit, but is a little more relaxed here in a modern style. And Here Was a Man – the solo monologue on this album – was a staple of his old TV show and was included on that show’s soundtrack. That leaves What Child is This? as the only substantively new song added to his Christmas canon.
Also notable on this album is the inclusion of four songs by the Carter Family – Figgy Pudding, The First Noel, O Christmas Tree, and It Came Upon A Midnight Clear. In their privately released album a few years earlier they were sounding remarkably good for an aging act, perhaps because Carlene Carter had joined their ranks. Now back down to sisters Helen, Anita and June, they sound a little worse for wear on this album. And while Figgy Pudding is a simply the classic “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”, June’s riotous contributions to this song make it a truly new creation. It’s hard to know if this is classic June humour at play, or the raw drunken ramblings of an aging star. Sadly, this will be the last Cash-Carter Family collaboration on a Cash album.
So what to make of this album? If you’re looking for a great Cash Christmas album, this isn’t the one. If you want some background country Christmas music, then this will do the job… until June starts caterwauling on track 3. You’ve been warned.
Now, I’ve heard that this was supposed to be Cash’s final album for Mercury and they simply rejected the album. I’m not sure if that’s true or not, but one way or another this album was released on Laserlight Records, a budget label that makes the kind of albums you find at the cash of a truck stop for $5, right beside the beef jerky. A clear indication of the kind of trouble Cash’s career was in at this point.
3/5
Other Songs from the Era:
White Christmas/I’ll Be Home for Christmas – two outtakes were included on a reissue of the album.
Cash for Kenya – Another greatest hits set with Kerry Marx and now John Carter Cash on guitar. This one includes a Carter Family set in the middle. Available on DVD from Mercury.
Man in Black – Christian thrash band One Bad Pig somehow talked Johnny into guesting on this cover. I remember this one being in my youth pastor’s office in the 90s. On their album I Scream Sunday
Long Black Veil – an obscure duet with Razzy Bailey not released until 2009’s A Damned Good Time
1989-1990 was (another) difficult period in Cash’s life and career. His first three records on new label Mercury hadn’t exactly flown up the charts. In March 1989, he would do a week of sessions that would result in the Highwaymen 2 album with Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, and Waylon Jennings, again under the producing hand of Chips Moman. With 1985’s Highwayman album being his only 80s top ten hit part from The Baron, there must have been some optimism that he would hit the charts again.
Then, in June-August he returned to the studio for his fourth Mercury solo album, and this time some major changes were afoot. Son-in-law Jimmy Tittle, who only a year earlier was producing a run through of Cash classics, is now gone on bass. But, most importantly, Bob Wooten, who joined the band in 1968 after Luther Perkins’ tragic death, is gone as well.
This is such an important shift in Johnny’s band. When Tennessee Two founding member Luther Perkins died in 1968, Bob stepped in and ensured that the classic boom chicka boom sound would always be on tap. But when bassist Marshall Grant was fired in 1980, the boom chicka boom sound faded away, and other guitarists brought a more modern country sound to Cash’s albums. With Bob gone, one would assume, so would go the classic boom chicka boom sound. Interestingly, Jim Soldi, who took the lead guitar chair when Marty Stuart went solo in 1986, was now also gone. Definitely an opportunity for change.
So it is, that Johnny entered the studio with Bob Moore, famed Nashville session bass player and sideman to none other than Patsy Cline. On guitar were studio pros, including Reggie Young from Chips Moman’s crew. And with the opportunity to do something totally new with a new producer, where does Cash go? Right back to the beginning with a whole album of songs using the boom chicka boom sound. How confounding.
Because this album has that classic Cash sound – ironically far more “classic” than the earlier Classic Cash album – it’s an enjoyable listen. Johnny also brings several songs of his own to the table, and they are by and large novelty tunes. A Backstage Pass is a lighthearted tale of what it was like to be backstage a Willie Nelson show, and draws us into the world of “whackos and weirdos”. Farmer’s Almanac is a cute talking blues drawn from the sage advice of the beloved annual rag. And I Love You, I Love You is a sweet love song. The exception to the light fare is a revisitation of Don’t Go Near the Water which first appeared on the America album. This version might not add much to the original, but it’s a reminder that environmental devastation was still a problem fifteen years after the song’s original release.
The other songs are largely decent, too. Harley – written by new Cash friend Michael Martin Murphey and Claude Gray – is a humorous tale of fortunes made and lost and America’s entrepreneurial drive:
“Only in America with nothin’ but a dream; Only in America where every man’s king”
Other tunes are more sentimental. Johnny nails Harry Chapin’s father and son narrative in Cat’s in the Cradle. Willie Nelson’s Family Bible is a great “gospel song about gospel songs” that fits Cash like a glove. And Monteagle Mountain is a fun trucking song that puts you right on the road to Nashville.
And then there are two final songs that highlight the best and worst of this album. First is another Elvis Costello number, Hidden Shame. It’s dark lyric might speak to what was going on in Cash’s life at the time. Yes, he recorded two albums in 1988, but neither would come out until 1989, leaving ‘88 as one of those rare years without any, nevermind his usual two, Cash album releases. In 1989 he would tour both solo and with the Highwaymen. But, he was really struggling. Some dental work in the later part of 1988 wound up breaking his jaw, and forcing him to wire it shut. In December he would also go back to rehab. I don’t know if the two events are related (I’m assuming that broken jaw would have put him on painkillers), but either way, the darkness was creeping back into Cash’s life. In that context, he sings a song tailor made for him by Costello:
Hidden shame, shame, shame and I can’t get free
From the blame and the torture and the misery
Must it be my secret for eternity?
Till you know my hidden shame
You really don’t know me
We’re still three years out from Johnny’s fateful meeting with Rick Rubin, but with it’s stripped back, rockabilly style arrangement, is this not a template for his American era? Powerful stuff, even if the arrangement is still a bit 80s slick.
Compare that to album closer, That’s One You Owe Me. It’s a trite little tale about a petty friend who keeps a lifelong list of what his friend owes him. Years later, his fiancee comes to good ol’ Johnny and, being the better man, resists temptation, and wipes the slate clean. It might have some jaunty, Sun Records-style piano, but as a closing tune, it ends the album on an underwhelming note.
That ending is unfortunate because, despite some lightweight songs, this is a really enjoyable album. There’s good balance between the fun material and the more serious content. And Johnny’s on the right path with a return to a simpler, cleaner sound. Of course, the great irony is that with Bob Wooten gone, we really have, for the most part, a group of professional, anonymous session players replicating the classic Cash sound. Not surprisingly, the result is a somewhat sterile, lesser reproduction of the real thing Cash pioneered in the 50s and 60s.
But nothing here is going to set the world on fire like the lonesome sound of I Walk the Line, or the firecracker opening riff to Run Softly Blue River. But at least we’re on the right path…
3.5/5
Other Songs from the Era:
Veteran’s Day – a b-side and bonus track on the European CD release. This is a great tune on the ongoing plight of Vietnam vets that would have been a far better inclusion than That’s One You Owe Me. Now widely available on The Complete Mercury Recordings 1986-1991 box set.
I Shall Be Free – a fun but forgettable jaunty little b-side about staying on the good side of life. Available on The Complete Mercury Recordings 1986-1991 box set.
I Draw the Line – an outtake that’s essentially a re-write of I Walk the Line released on The Complete Mercury Recordings 1986-1991 box set. Four other outtakes remain in the vault: Old Red, Hallelujah Joe, The Strangest Dream and Everything is Alright at Home.
Johnny Cash Spoken Word New Testament – yes, you can purchase Johnny reading all 19 hours of the whole New Testament. I sadly didn’t purchase this on deep discount when a local Christian bookstore was closing. It’s now quite expensive to purchase, but is thankfully available on YouTube!
Woodcarver/Ring of Fire – As the story goes, Cash was on tour in Ireland in 1989 and heard local artist Sandy Kelly singing Patsy Cline’s Crazy on the radio, so he called her up and invited her to come to Nashville to record. The result was a saccharine waltz, Woodcarver and a duet on Ring of Fire. Available on the Sandy Kelly CD Twenty Single Hits.
The Great Lost Performance – Recorded live in Asbury Park, NJ, in July 1990. This set features new guitarist Kerry Marx (who didn’t play on the album), plus John Carter Cash on acoustic guitar. It’s a typical greatest hits set except for What is Man and Forty Shades of Green with Lucy Clark (Les Paul’s singer at the time – Les was supposed to appear as well, but was ill), and Vaya Con Dios, which was left off! There’s also a lot of gospel material here. He opens the set commenting on how he wanted to open with Life’s Railway to Heaven because it was on the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s recent Will The Circle Be Unbroken Vol 2, which he and June appeared on. Note there is no Mercury material here, a shift from the Austin City Limits set.
After recording a wealth of songs with Cowboy Jack Clement for his Mercury Records debut, Johnny toured for the summer, and then hammered out a greatest hits album in October 1987. Within days of overdub sessions in December, he was back in the studio with Clement starting another album. While the sessions were a mix of solo material and collaborations, the final product is essentially a duets album. Some big names are involved in this one: family members (June, Rosanne, and John), usual suspects like Waylon Jennings, Jessi Colter, Tom T. Hall, and Emmylou Harris, but also Hank Williams Jr., Glen Campbell, and none other than Mr. Moptop himself, Paul McCartney.
A combination of guests like that seems very encouraging. Dig a little deeper, though, and we’ll find the usual warning signs: very few Cash originals and a six-month recording window. Oh, and a host of professional session musicians, but none of Cash’s band involved.
This is not to say this album is without its charm. Yes, it’s a pretty relaxed album where all of the edges are smoothed out into an inoffensive, 80s middle-of-the-road country gloss. It does, however, happen to have some very strong performances. Emmylou Harris’ voice sounds so good, whether it’s duetting on the Roy Acuff number As Long As I Live, or melding into four-part harmony with Johnny, Jessi, and Waylon on the 1948 Moon Mullican classic Sweeter Than the Flowers. Throw in some pedal steel and fiddle and you’ve got some very fine country.
The middle of the album brings in a bit of attitude, too, with Tom T. Hall’s The Last of the Drifters, an outlaw number that might over-romanticize the post-war era, but is a needed dose of energy. Also, Hank Williams Jr.’s That Old Wheel is a dose of 80s positive thinking:
“They will sow what they reap/ so turn the other cheek.”
It’s a nice upbeat rockabilly number, with a great guitar solo. I also find the June duet, Where Did We Go Right?, a charming reunion. Knowing the trials of addiction and infidelity they’d been through, and the fact that it’s been several albums since there’s been a proper June duet, it’s a refreshing turn of positivity for country’s first couple. They obviously liked this song as it was first attempted in the Coming to Town sessions and they debuted it in early 1987 on Austin City Limits.
But for every decent number, there’s also a miss. I’ll start with John Carter Cash’s two numbers. John started appearing on stage with his dad in the late 70s, and by the 1986 Christmas special he was miming electric guitar and shouting out Johnny B. Goode. He brings that rock attitude to J.J. Cale’s Call Me the Breeze, but he simply doesn’t have the vocal chops to rock out. (I will give credit to a great but brief electric guitar solo by bluegrass master Mark Howard). His strained rock style feels even more limited on the closing ballad, Water From the Wells of Home. Despite being penned by Father Cash, the whole song just feels tired and uninspired.
Uninspired could be used to describe the other misses here, too. A Croft in Clachan should be an instant win. Johnny loves historical material, and here tells an interesting story of a Scottish clan feud. But even with a voice like Glen Campbell joining in, the song goes nowhere. Likewise, New Moon Over Jamaica might have been written by three masters – Cash, Tom T. Hall, and Paul McCartney – but it’s a boring dud of a song. Come to think of it, George Harrison was always the Beatle with a rockabilly fixation, so maybe he should have been called on instead. He certainly did better with Roy Orbison in The Travelling Wilburys, than McCartney does with Cash here.
In retrospect everything that’s good and bad about this album is encapsulated in the first track, a remake of Johnny’s Sun Records hit, Ballad of a Teenage Queen. It’s beautifully sung by Cash, daughter Rosanne, and the Everly Brothers. Everything is sparkly clean. But it’s also played a hair too slow, and then it closes with a superfluous strum of a harp. Why? Did anyone ever listen to the Cash classic and think, “what this is missing is a little harp”? Of course not. But it’s a case of throwing a little bit of everything at the wall to see what sticks. Sometimes it works pretty well, others, not so much.
As with Johnny’s Mercury debut, it seems there was actually quite a bit left on the cutting room floor here, too. In addition to starting more songs that would wind up on The Mystery of Life there were several solo songs cut – Love’s from the Heart, I’m Gonna Write You a Letter, Kris Kristofferson’s Good Morning John, Kiss the Ladies Goodnight, and Just The Other Side of Nowhere – plus two more duets, namely, I Wish I Was Crazy Again (Waylon Jennings), and Didn’t He Shine (Glen Campbell). Could Johnny have dropped the duets format and beefed the album up with some solo numbers? Who knows.
So, at the end of the day, we’re left with another pleasant, but somewhat uninspired album, a pattern that will sadly carry through to the end of the Mercury era.
3/5
Other Songs from the Era:
Johnny Cash Interview – a bonus track on some versions of the CD
We the People – Folk Era records ,released this compilation of patriotic songs to celebrate the bicentennial of the signing of the US Constitution. It includes four older Cash tunes – Ragged Old Flag, Ballad of Ira Hayes, Remember the Alamo, and Battle of New Orleans – along with new narration that is used throughout the album.
Just the Other Side of Nowhere – recorded in August 1988 and used in the film Tennessee Waltz.
I have some very mixed feelings writing this review. It’s been over eight years since I set out on my mission of reviewing every Johnny Cash release from the Columbia era. There are still a few more collaborations to go, but Rainbow constitutes Johnny’s final solo album in the Columbia era. While this review is a significant milestone for me, sadly my final review of a Columbia Cash album is for my least favourite of them all. Coming into this review, I was assuming this would be an obvious 1/5 review. Let’s see where we end up…
By 1984, at least one thing was going right for Cash – he checked himself into the Betty Ford Clinic in late 1983 and got clean. He has claimed his renewed challenges began with a near-fatal attack by an ostrich on his farm that had him hospitalized and on morphine. However, while that may be partially true, we know he had actually been struggling with pills again since 1977, and that, in turn, led to some serious marital problems. 1984, then, was a year of renewal on many fronts.
Sadly, that would not extend to his professional life. In April, he reunited with Billy Sherrill who produced his last hit, 1981’s The Baron, for another stab at the charts, countrypolitan style. The advance single, The Chicken in Black, was received so poorly that the whole album was scrapped. Coming on the heels of a shelved gospel album and his Columbia contract coming up for renewal, Cash really needed a hit.
Enter Chips Moman. This was the guy who architected Elvis’ top late career material, notably Suspicious Minds and In the Ghetto. More so, Chips almost always worked with The Memphis Boys, a team of crack session musicians who, much like Johnny’s Tennessee Three, had been with him for a long time: Reggie Young on guitar, Bobby Emmons and Bobby Wood on piano/organ/keyboards, and Gene Chrisman on drums. Factor in Chips’ wife Toni Wine on Davis, and you would think this Memphis-rooted family affair would make Cash feel right at home.
With a top producer and crack band in tow, Rainbow also brought some exciting songs to the table. Look at how Cash described them in the liner notes:
“Every once in awhile a song comes along for me that gives me a boost. This has been the key to my continuing to enjoy performing after 30 years… a really great song, gives me such a lift… Such a song is Kristofferson’s “Here Comes That Rainbow Again.” The lyrics are so good… “Unwed Fathers’, written by John Prine and Bobby Braddock, may be depressing to some of you, but it’s something that needs to be said for women… “They’re All The Same”, was written by Willie Nelson 20 years ago… For me, 1965 was a down year and it was of the many things I lost. I only recently rediscovered it. I wrote “I’m Leaving You” in Australia… I wrote “You Beat All I Ever Saw” twenty years ago when Waylon and I were sharing an apartment… When I recorded this, my brother Waylon was hanging out with me most of the time and he was a great encouragement and inspiration… Jessi Colter was there too… one of the world’s great women. “Casey’s Last Ride” is one of those songs Kristofferson gave me 15 years ago and I threw it in the lake. June and Anita Carter kept telling me that I should record it… [the other four] were contribute by Chips Moman. I love all four them, especially “Easy Street”. You know I can relate to that song.”
Johnny Cash – Rainbow Liner Notes
I include this long excerpt because it drips of Cash’s enthusiasm. You can hear how he’s in a time of revival, revisiting things he had missed and creating something new he was truly excited about.
So what went wrong?
Well, opener I’m Leaving Now sounds like old school Cash. A bit derivative of Hank Snow’s I’m Moving On (but this time dedicated to the music industry instead of a woman), it’s a fun, upbeat number. Beyond that, there is some excellent songwriting here, too. Prine’s Unwed Fathers takes an honest look at teenage pregnancy. There’s a classic Creedence Clearwater Revival song in Have You Ever Seen the Rain? And Cash is right that Here Comes That Rainbow Again is indeed a top-notch Kristofferson tune, finding the beauty in simple human generosity.
But listen to how that song opens, with those cheesy 80s keyboard sounds. With its slow loping waltz, I’m not even sure that this is country music. Country-inflected soft rock? And once we’re through the opening track, it’s cheesy keyboard effect after cheesy keyboard effect. Moman makes sure that every nook and cranny is filled with a responding brass sound, synth sitar, or some chiming bell.
Look a little deeper, and you’ll see exactly what’s happening. First, apart from Marty Stuart, whose mandolin is his best on a Cash record yet, his band is entirely absent here. Compare this to Believe in Me, which Marty produced a year or so earlier. On that album you could hear how well the Johnny Cash Show Band interacted. This was a paired down version of The Great Eighties Eight featuring Earl Poole Ball on piano, Bob Wooten on electric guitar, Marty on mandolin (and a bit of guitar), Fluke Holland on drums, and Jimmy Tittle on bass. And while, Cash’s sound had changed since his early days with the Tennessee Two, there was a continuity through his sonic evolution leading to this band. They were still driven by Fluke’s snare and Wooten’s boom-chicka-boom leads, and then Marty and Earl’s virtuosity enhanced that foundation with the ability to pivot around changing country trends.
In Moman’s hands, however, the foundation is gone. Fluke’s snare is replaced with classy cymbal flourishes. There’s no boom-chicka-boom. Everything is pampered in soft fades and gentle echoes. And then there’s this note in the credits:
Special Thanks To The Incredible Casio 8000
Rainbow Album Credits
A thank you to a synthesizer? Yikes!
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favour of the evolution of Johnny’s sound. I’ll also be more forgiving when it comes to Moman’s work with The Highwaymen. But this is a Johnny Cash album and we should have learned by now that total overhauls like the John R. Cash album don’t work. His future needs to be tied into his past for it to work.
Admittedly, this album tries so hard to tie into Johnny’s past, but in such strange ways. Johnny had actually never collaborated directly with Willie Nelson, yet they find a song Willie wrote for Cash twenty years ago… and then play it exactly like a Willie tune (complete with a nylon-string guitar solo played so exactly in Willie’s inimitable style that I refuse to believe this isn’t an uncredited Nelson!). Then, they have Waylon sing background vocals but wash it into a dense mix that robs any character from his offering. And what about that old tune of Cash’s, You Beat All I Ever Saw? Johnny may like this song, but it tanked in the charts in the 60s (thanks in part to a stale trumpet arrangement), and will bore you to death in this molasses-slow update.
If that’s not bad enough, Chips’ own contributions are worse. He brought a CCR tune to Johnny and give it a stiff interpretation that definitely disappoints. And his self-penned (with Bobby Emmons) Easy Street and Borderline are really bland. In fact, I have no idea what Borderline is even about (a musical whodunnit? What?) The only half-decent number in this group is Love Me Like You Used To. But that’s another case of Johnny putting out an ok version of a great song that would be bested by someone else. Kenny Rogers did it with the Gambler, and this time it will be Tanya Tucker who would score a #2 hit with this tune.
I will admit, however, that in revisiting this album, I was singing along in my first listen, and I thought I had only heard this album a handful of times. Indeed, when I started listening to Cash in the early 2000s, my local library still had this one on cassette (yes, they still had cassettes, and I still had a player in my car!). All I could remember from that cursory listen was “80s keyboard ballads and a bad CCR cover”. I eventually bought a used copy of the LP to fill out my collection, and then got the CD with the Complete Columbia box set, but am not sure I even listened to it.
To the album’s credit, it is actually an easy listen. All those soft Casio keyboards and gently layered backing vocals let the album kind of drift along. So is it truly horrible? Maybe not. Rainbow and Unwed Fathers are great songs, and I’d probably keep I’m Leaving Now because of its classic Cash vibe. None of the other songs are offensive, and there are little musical flourishes here and there of interest. So maybe it’s not a 1/5, but it’s not the monumental album that Cash raved about in the notes, and it definitely wasn’t enough to save his career.
2/5
Other Songs from the Era:
They Killed Him/The Three Bells – a single-only release produced by Chips unlike anything else in Cash’s catalogue. The a-side is powerful Kristofferson number about the legacy of Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and Jesus Christ. Heavy stuff, but like Rainbow, delivered over a keyboard-heavy pop backing. The b-side is an update of Edith Piaf’s Les Trois Cloches (translated into English in the 1950s). This one is piano-driven, and a captivating string of vignettes that capture a life in three minutes. An interesting single, but I’m not sure who thought these two would light up the charts. Available on Singles Plus.
Christmas on the Road – Johnny’s 1984 Christmas special, recorded in the middle of these sessions in Montreux, Switzerland. This is really the birthplace of The Highwaymen as it features Johnny, Waylon, Kris and Willie singing On the Road Again. Jessi Colter also guests as does John Carter Cash. Note – Johnny was still singing The Chicken in Black at this time, so hadn’t totally disowned it!
I Will Dance with You – Recorded in early 1985, Karen Brooks released a duet version of this late 70s Cash gem on her 1986 album of the same name. Marty Stuart would also release a solo album in 1986 including a cover of one of Brooks’ tunes. By the end of 1986, Marty would leave Cash’s band to pursue his solo career.
Be Careful Who You Love – Johnny guested on this Waylon tune on his Sweet Mother Texas album. This sets the stage for their upcoming duet album, Heroes.
I wasn’t sure if I would review this album, but it is a complete LP released during Johnny’s tenure at Columbia, so why not?
Sings with the B.C. Goodpasture Christian School is one of the rarest entries in his catalogue. Goodpasture Christian School was founded in 1966 in Madison, TN, named after a famous preacher. Google Maps locates it about 18 minutes from Johnny’s home and I’m assuming the album is a product of his son John Carter Cash’s attendance there. Regardless, one way or another, this local school convinced Johnny to sing on their school LP!
Knowing this is a bunch of high school kids playing under the direction of their music teacher, it’s not really fair to review in the traditional sense. There definitely won’t be a score at the end of it!
So what’s the album about? Well, it’s basically an album of hymns split into two parts. Side A is led by the band, and it’s what you’d expect of a high school brass band playing hymns. It starts with American Trilogy which, while fun to hear Cash take on this number, can’t really touch the Elvis classic. But at least a new song in Cash’s repertoire. Then, a medley of Will The Circle Be Unbroken with Daddy Sang Bass, so a nice tribute to Cash’s own writing. And then Everything is Beautiful, which in the original version by Ray Stevens feature his own kids’ school choir. There’s also an instrumental that while not including Cash features some pretty funky guitar for a school band.
The second side is led by the school choir and taps into six hymns that should all be familiar to Cash devotee: Amazing Grace, Sweet By and By, When the Roll is Called Up Yonder, Precious Memories, Old Rugged Cross, and Rock of Ages. For the most part these fall into what I call the “sentimental hymns” category. All of these were recorded by Cash at least once in his career, and many of them appear on My Mother’s Hymn Book, one of Cash’s final albums. He also tackled the Old Rugged Cross with Emmylou Harris in the same year as the Goodpasture album, although that version remained unreleased until the 2000s.
Because this was a local independent release, copies often fetch over $100. But if you’re dying to hear Johnny’s overdubbed vocals on high school hymn arrangements, start saving your pennies!
(BTW – If this was my school, I would have been so excited!)
Raise My Glass to the B-Side 