Pyfr Goes West (Vol. 3): Taking the time to understand that line-walking man in black

I guess I ought to devote a chapter to J.R. Cash before I get too far into other more obscure and less worthy country artists. It’s kind of a respect thing, I guess, for what other country artist can lay claim to Cash’s throne in terms of having been such a major influence across the entire music business? I seriously doubt you were about to come back with “Billy Ray Cyrus”.

Yes, Johnny is the man. He’s the only country singer that many of my associates can even tolerate, a testament to his massive crossover appeal. There’s a poignancy and wisdom to many of his songs that goes far beyond the usual tales of women and whiskey. In his personal doings throughout the years, Cash often demonstrated his ability to walk the walk as well as the line, with illiteracy, veterans’ rights, and prison reform being just a few of the issues he concerned himself with at one time or another. A pretty good heart for a guy who wore black more frequently than did the Trenchcoat Mafia.

Beneath all the stories of drugs and alcohol, of friendships with unlikely people (he and Ozzy became buddies in rehab at one point) and unfortunate encounters with kicking ostriches, the legacy of Johnny Cash was and is about the simple narrative. Like Dylan but not in the slightest bit like Mobb Deep, Johnny is one of music’s great storytellers (although I’ll take Cash’s voice over Dylan’s any day of the month). His strengths are his wit, his ability to drive home a timeless point with a minimum of words, and a romanticism that manifests itself in everything from his gentle humor to his genuine expressions of love. In the minus column (and again, the comparison to Dylan is apt here), most of his songs sound like different installments of one very long track that spanned the decades.

But hey, that’s OK. We can forgive Johnny for sounding a little samey, can’t we?

16 Biggest Hits needs little in the way of explanation, and I’m not enough of a Johnny scholar to tell you what it’s missing. All the ones I know are present and accounted for, from the giddyap mariachi feel of Ring Of Fire to the shuffling campfire sing-along I Walk The Line to the supernaturally-charged classic Ghost Riders In The Sky. And, of course, there are a whole bunch of ‘em that I’ve either never heard or never bothered to remember.

Even though nearly every song has the same tempo, rhythm, and strummy style, Johnny takes us all over the place with his lyrics. He broods about the way it is one moment (as he does on Man In Black), then turns around and humors us with something like A Boy Named Sue. His songs are full of standard Southern and/or Western imagery, such as jails (In The Jailhouse Now), outlaws (Don’t Take Your Guns To Town), railroads (the overly long epic The Legend Of John Henry’s Hammer), and miserable minorities (The Ballad Of Ira Hayes, probably the coolest examination of a Native American veteran’s plight). Actually, I shouldn’t say his songs, since many of these are Johnny just covering other people’s works, even if his versions are the ones that folks typically recognize.

And then there’s Johnny Cash the romantic, although this collection focuses more on his more story-oriented pieces. Being the huge Nick Cave fan that I am (and Nick being the obvious Johnny clone that he is), I like the way that Cash can use that distinctive voice to relate an entirely engaging and satisfying tale within the confines of a short little song. Even when the subject matter is something as mundane as a hangover (which I believe Sunday Morning Coming Down is about) or a singing family (the goofy Daddy Sang Bass), Johnny knows how to make the listener take him seriously. That’s the sign of a real pro.

Is there really any way to go bad with Johnny Cash? Sure, I would’ve liked to hear his take on Nine Inch Nails’ Hurt (which Trent Reznor himself praised to the heavens) or Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus, but these are the songs that initially launched the man into his permanent place in the musical stratosphere. Johnny Cash is not really the exclusive property of the country & Western world anymore (and never really was, as he had a tumultuous relationship with Nashville), and 16 Biggest Hits is a great place to hear just why the guy still gets cited as a major inspiration by everybody from metalheads to hip-hoppers.


Vol. 2: Waylon Jennings http://www.epinions.com/content_356363505284

Vol. 1: Hank Williams http://www.epinions.com/content_352723963524