American V: A Hundred Highways

Apologies in advance for the language here.

Today's Music of the Day is American V: A Hundred Highways, by Mr. Johnny Cash. This album, like the other American recordings, comes from the period near the end of Mr. Cash's life - this was the last one.

Let me be clear about my stance on Johnny Cash: I'm a big fan. I prefer the younger, "Now they're recording this, so don't say any bad words like 'damn' or 'shit'" Cash to the older Cash, but I still appreciate a lot of things about the American recordings. It's easy to want old Johnny Cash to sound more like young Johnny Cash, but the fact is that we're fortunate that the American recordings exist at all.

American V isn't as adventurous as the other American recordings; it has a much more reverent and somber tone. Gone are the duets and the covers of popular songs from days past - this album's sound is as sparse and austere as anything Cash has probably done. The spiritual element of his music - ever present, to varying degrees through the years - is openly available here, though the mood is far too introspective for any sort of preaching.

In hindsight, American V is bittersweet. These are gentle songs, words and guitar from somewhere deep in the man himself, resigned words from a life full of regrets. It's a bit sad to listen to, knowing it would be his last album, but it also serves as a fitting farewell. It's like leaving a party and not getting a huge cheer from everyone still there, but having a few people you care about tell you it was nice to see you again and to take care.

So there. American V is kind of a historical curiosity, a rainy day, and a sad goodbye all at once. Worth a listen, to be sure, but I had a hard time just thinking about the songs for what they are.

In Other News:
Wednesday went pretty well. And I got souvenirs!

Giving some thought to visiting the twin cities next weekend. Maybe.

Live at Folsom Prison

Today's Music of the Day is none other than Mr. Johnny Cash, At Folsom Prison. And I wish I had more to write! This is the essence of Johnny Cash, singing to a group of lucky convicts (ha ha) for about an hour. It's classic Cash, from the music to the demeanor. I like a lot of things about this album - Cash doesn't do most of his better-known songs, but some of them show up here ("Jackson", "I Still Miss Someone", "Cocaine Blues"). If you like Johnny Cash, you have to know about this album. And if you don't like Johnny Cash, well, best of luck to you.

I suppose this album has more significance than its songs would have you believe. Cash was always a religious man, and the concept of the saint sitting with the sinners is something he probably would have appreciated if he were a more arrogant man, or at least something of a saint and less of a sinner. The album was also recorded at a time when live concert recordings were not unheard of, but certainly less common than they are today. Mostly, though, the idea of a concert at a prison is great, and it's something that I am surprised hasn't been done again (outside of Cash's visit to San Quentin a few years later). Finally, Johnny's famous use of profanity on this album always makes me laugh a little bit.

I wish I had something to tell you about this album that hasn't already been said. It's a fine album, and a major milestone in a career filled with highlights. Mostly, though, this album deserves to be listened to and enjoyed, even forty years later. So get yourself a copy of it, set aside 45 minutes or so to yourself, open a beer or pour some whiskey, and relax.

"Hello, I'm Johnny Cash..."

In Other News:
My knee hurt all day yesterday, and against my better judgment, I went to capoeira. And somehow the stretching and movement fixed it? I'm still not sure what happened, but it feels better than it has in a month or more. I don't even know, any more.

American Recordings (I)

Today's Music That We're Lucky To Have is Johnny Cash's American Recordings. Now I won't go into a great deal of history about this album, and its follow-ups, but there's a pretty good story about it, and how Johnny Cash was coerced into making music again when he had pretty much settled into retirement. To make a long story short, we're fortunate to have this music. This was the first of five 'American' albums; the last of them was recorded not long before Johnny passed away.

And it's good! It's pretty simple stuff, mostly just Johnny playing guitar and singing. The first song, "Delia's Gone", is a nice ballad about a man who shot his lover, a sweet tune. The entire album is less morose but maintains the same simple tone. It's unironic, earnest music that I think should appeal to everyone (though maybe not all the time; I wouldn't put this on during a party unless I wanted everyone to leave). So give this album a listen. I know that taste in music is subjective, so you may not like it as well as things that are louder or easy to dance to or that have more clever 'pop culture' references. But then again, you might also be a tool.

In other news:
I'm not quite there but I'm close.

The Man Comes Around

Today's Music That Jason Wants You To Listen To is Johnny Cash's American IV: The Man Comes Around. This is the fourth album in the 'American' series, which (as I understand it) was largely orchestrated by producer Rick Rubin. Now I may not have my facts entirely straight, but the first 'American' album was the result of Rubin getting in touch with Cash and just getting him into the studio and letting him do what he wanted, at his own pace. And thank God.

American IV is a curious mix of mostly cover songs, with a few originals rounding out the album. The song you probably know is his cover of Nine Inch Nails/Trent Reznor's "Hurt", which is everything a cover song should be: a unique take on an interesting song that doesn't lessen the effect of the original at all. There are plenty of other good songs here too; most of the album consists of covers of old country songs and standards, making this album not a candidate for 'feel-good record of the year', but it is a fine work. As much as the old covers seem to fit Johnny's style, they almost seem beneath him ("Desperado", "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"). So many of them just seem to pander for sympathy, whereas Johnny being himself never had to, never would have. Still, the fact that Johnny was making albums right up until he passed away is nothing to scoff at, and his gentle touch with these songs generates no melodrama.

The more modern or popular covers ("Hurt", "In My Life", and others) are the highlights of this album. Ten years ago, who would have thought Johnny Cash covering Depeche Mode and NIN would be feasible, much less good? While you might suspect my favorite track to be "Bridge Over Troubled Water", due to my love of both Simon & Garfunkel and Fiona Apple (the latter sings with Cash on this track), my favorite is the title track. It's one of the few originals to make its way onto the album, and it probably even outshines "Hurt". Johnny was never shy about his Christian faith, so perhaps this song just suits him more than the others.

So in short, good though depressing album. I really hope to get more of the American series of albums from the library.

In other news:

I've been sore all week. Yesterday I couldn't even use the stairs well. It's great.