Posts Tagged ‘johnny cash

17
Mar
10

Album Review: Johnny Cash – Ain’t No Grave

I say ‘Johnny Cash’ and you say ‘Joaquin Phoenix’. I say ‘brilliant and deeply troubled country musician who struggled his whole life with alcohol, drugs and his relationship with God’ and you say ‘a feel-good Hollywood love-story that ends when guy marries girl and they live happily ever after.’

 

 

Walk The Line ended just before Johnny Cashes life actually got interesting and way too much emphasis was placed on his relationship with June Carter, which was basically the focal point of the entire movie and the reason why there has to be a Walk The Line II: Cash Comes Back which I will of course write and direct.

The tragedy of Johnny Cashes life was that for over a decade the world completely forgot about him. He reached the height of his success in the 60s and 70s and had one hit after the next, as well as numerous appearances on TV and in film, but when 1980 hit, the world turned its back on the Man In Black, leaving Cash feeling forgotten and dejected.

 

 

And that’s pretty much where Johnny Cashes story would have ended if it weren’t for Rick Rubin and his formidable skills as a music visionary and producer. Under Rubin’s supervision, Cash recorded the album American Recordings in his living room in 1994, a collection of cover songs and original material that won a Grammy that year for Best Contemporary Folk Album.

Another three ‘American’ albums followed, Unchained (1996), American III: Solitary Man (2000) and American IV: The Man Comes Around (2002). American IV is widely regarded as Cashes epitaph as it was the last album he recorded before his death in September 2003. It contains his cover of the Nine Inch Nails song ‘Hurt’, the video of which is immensely powerful and I’d urge anyone reading this to watch it right now.

After his death, a fifth American album was released from left-over material he’d recorded with Rubin entitled, American V: A Hundred Highways (2006) which has sold 337,000 copies since its release and which looked like it was going to be the last album of new material to be released, until now.

This year sees the release of American VI: Ain’t No Grave, also produced by Rubin and all I can say is I hope this is the last American album that Rubin produces because while it really does shine in parts, mostly it ambles through one overly religious country song after the next and then ends, somewhat bizarrely, on the Hawaiian song ‘Aloha Oe’ 32 minutes later.

 

 

The title track and opening song ‘Ain’t No Grave’ is definitely one of the album’s stronger tracks and the line ‘When I hear that trumpet sound / Gonna rise right out of the ground / Ain’t no grave / Can hold my body down’ is strangely prophetic given that Cash has basically released this album from the grave.

It’s a slow and badass country song which, when combined with the lumbering drum beat and the repeating sound of chains being dragged, makes for a haunting track. You kinda get the feeling that at any moment you could look over your shoulder and be greeted by zombie Johnny Cash, covered in dust and dirt, wearing a tattered black suit, grinning and playing a banjo carved out of bones.

The mood doesn’t lift as the second song ‘Redemption Day’ (a Sheryl Crow cover) plays, but that’s not a bad thing. Cashes rendition of the song, with his old and quavering bass-baritone voice is heartfelt and moving. It sure as hell won’t get the party started, but it just might keep you company in moments when life is shitty and hope is hard to come by.

The song ‘Satisfied Mind’, which featured in Kill Bill Vol. 2 is also a great track. It’s just Cash and his guitar, strumming a slow song about how ‘There’s one thing for certain / When it comes my time / I’ll leave this ol’ world / With a satisfied mind.’ I’ve always loved this song because it perfectly captures the space Cashes mind was in during his twilight years and it’s a space I hope I might reach someday myself.

The rest of the songs on the album waver between sounding like hokey church hymns (‘I Corinthians: 15:55) and down-trodden, my-girl-left-me-and-my-horse-just-died country ballads (‘For The Good Times’, ‘Can’t Help But Wonder Where I’m Bound’, ‘Cool Water’) that could very well bore you to tears.

 

 

Unlike previous American albums, this won’t appeal to a younger audience. If you’re a die-hard Johnny Cash fan, you’ll appreciate this album, but will also concede that it’s not his best. However, if you’re one of the many who’s only real perception of the Man In Black was shaped entirely by Walk The Line, you won’t find any of the upbeat tracks like ‘It Ain’t Me Babe’, ‘Ring Of Fire’, and ‘I Walk The Line’ on Ain’t No Grave and probably won’t find it appealing in the slightest.

For me though, it’s a fitting end to the body of work that Cash recorded throughout his life and I’m glad I bought it, even though sometimes it makes me suicidal.

Final Verdict: 6/10

-ST

20
Dec
09

Johnny Cash and the lazy SUnday

Johnny Cash found me sometime during my second year at varsity and we became pals.

 

 

I think the first song of his that I really dug was ‘A Boy Named Sue’. That song strikes a chord with me, if fact any piece of literature, music or film that deals with troubled father/son relationships resounds with me.

Also, the song was fucking badass. Here are the lyrics:

“A Boy Named Sue”:

My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn’t leave much for ma and me 
‘Cept this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don’t blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

Well, he must o’ thought that it was quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a’ lot of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I’d get red
And some guy’d laugh and I’d bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain’t easy for a boy named "Sue."
 
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fists got hard and my wits got keen,
I roamed from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I’d search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
I’d just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I’d stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother’d had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is ‘Sue!’ How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a’ gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I’ve fought tougher men
But I really can’t remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin’ at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn’t be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you’d have to get tough or die
And it’s the name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya gut and the spit in ya eye
Cause I’m the motherfucker that named you "Sue.’"

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I’m gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!

 

I love it! ‘I knew you’d have to get tough or die’ – classic! ‘Kickin and a gougin in the blood and the mud and the beer.’ That’s the only way to fight.

That’s what real fights turn into, just watch UFC Fighting – in most fights, they’ll go to ground and the one guy will try and squeeze the living shit out of the other guy, or just pummel him in the head as hard and often as possible and THEN pop his shoulder out of its socket.

 

 

But anyway, I digest.

What was today like? How did it begin and how did it progress from that point? What did we learn from it? How will it be remembered 20 years from now?

Will it be remembered 20 years from now? Sure it will 😉

I jumped like a jack-in-the-box out of bed at 9:25 and started furiously cleaning the flat. Landlord was coming over to do something or other he’s had planned for a few weeks now. Without getting into too much detail, it involved steel skirting brackets, hot glue and waterproof silicone putty.

I just kinda looked on in confusement, but not for long. Landlord usually has these things all figured out and he doesn’t need any help, so I don’t offer any. Instead I knuckled down and got in some solid game-time with Torchlight which is a must for any Diablo fans out there I mean, it was developed by a few of the team that actually worked on Diablo so it’s got a really cool look and feel and for $20 it’s really worth it.

Ok, how was that? Nailed it? The sales pitch, nailed it? Damn straight I nailed it 🙂

Meanwhile, outside the sun shone like nobody’s business, hot and clear, not really a breeze at all. Fuck, it was a perfect summer day. Leaves shone above us, the heat shimmered, the sun felt like it was filling me up, like I was a battery charging.

 

 

Fuck, the minute I’m on leave and it’s sunny I’m heading up to the pool to chill to the max. You guys can come too, but bring your own booze and LSD. You aren’t allowed any of mine, remember what happened last time? Yeah, exactly.

J-Rab and I had the funniest fucking Christmas Shopping outing at Design Quarter. Like I said yesterday, I’ve pretty much finished up the Christmas shopping for my folks, the only thing left to get were these Maxwell Williams mugs my old lady wanted.

I saw them at a Boardman’s yesterday and thought they were pretty average so I decided to get Ritzenhof mugs for her instead, hence the trip to the Design Quarter.

We parked out in front of the DQ, in the hot sun and walked down the parking lot toward the shops. As we got near the end of the parking lot we both saw this kickass huge ad on the side of the Nike store there with a golfer crouching and blowing fire and while his buddy hits a ball through it on a golf course at night time.

I must admit, I was pretty entrance by it, but not quite as much as J-Rab who walked right into the curb. I just heard this abrupt scuffing sound and felt her grip my hand tight as she stumbled and then was like ‘I’m cool, I’m cool’ as she went back for her flip flop.

I laughed my ass off and she was a little embarrassed, but I said, ‘Fuck it, it’s not like the place is completely packed FULL of people or anything."’

Of course, it was packed to the rafters, hahaahah!

 

 

Then we find that Ritzenhof moved away probably over two years ago. Fahk! Luckily J-Rab said to just walk around and see if we could find another place that sold mugs like that and what the fuck did we find? A Boardman’s in Design Quarter, a MASSIVE one!

They had way more variety when it came to these Maxwell mugs so we found cool ones for my old lady.

After that we noticed a whole bunch of upmarket food stalls had been set up in the centre courtyard and went to take a look.

There was this really cool honey stall that we made a bee-line (fuck, read that last bit slowly, yes, I just did that) straight for. When we got there, the lady behind the stall gave us these short yellow straws and asked us if we wanted to taste the honey.

She had part of a honeycomb there, dripping with the stuff, so we dipped out straws in and tasted some of the raw honey and damn, it was sweet and rich and good.

 

 

As J-Rab was tasting, the wind blew the corner of the tablecloth up so she carefully pulled it down again not realising that one of the small glass pots of honey had gotten stuck and tumbled gently down in the fold of the tablecloth.

To J-Rab’s credit, she caught the pot before it fell and broke on the ground, but by then about a third of the honey inside had dribbled all down the tablecloth and was already making it’s slow and syrupy way toward the floor.

She quickly put the honey pot back on the table and apologised, laughing nervously. The couple standing next to us looked on mild horror at the gloopy mess of honey, I laughed, ‘I swear to God, you can’t take her anywhere!’

J-Rab and I laughed and bought the nice honey lady’s mead ever though she wasn’t phased at all. Good stuff that mead actually, it’s called Honey Sun mead and damn! It’s worth every cent of the 85 bucks we paid for it.

We had lunch at the ‘rents after that and swam a little, nothing too amazing to report there. After that we came home and had a nap and now I’m banging this out and watching Die Hard 2, which is such a killer movie and definitely the best part of Christmas every time it rolls around.

 

 

John McClane – that man is the best kind of action hero. So many others have fucked up both the genre of action movies and the heroes themselves, but good ol’ McClane was the original and Bruce’s portrayal of him is totally flawless.

He’s so cool because he gets fucked up. He makes fuck ups, by the end of all the movies, he’s cut up, punched up and shot up but he just doesn’t fucking die. Just like the name says!

But now it’s time to knuckle down and saw a couple logs.

Later party people 🙂

-ST