Johnny Cash
American IV: The Man Comes Around
American Recordings
When Johnny Cash teamed up with famed rock/rap producer Rick Rubin on his first release for American
Recordings, no one knew what to expect. After the first outing consisting only of Cash and his
guitar, they experimented with a backup band. That was dropped for the third, which found the right
production groove. Now the public can expect unconventional covers, reworkings of traditional songs
and stripped-down originals delivered with the occasional help of celebrity collaborators. The trick
for Cash and Rubin, then, is to proceed in the same style without it becoming played out.
Where earlier American sessions included memorable covers of Beck and Tom Petty, this album's
standout cover is Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt." Cash's rendition is bare-bones; a barely audible guitar
and piano back Cash as he nearly talks his way through Trent Reznor's words, and "Hurt" becomes
an old man's deathbed speech on guilt. That is, until the track swells up into an epic declaration
of regret.
This collection, however, does add a new element to the formula behind the American Recordings:
the instant Johnny Cash classic. All the previous efforts included original material from Cash
the songwriter, but nothing outstanding. With The Man Comes Around's title track, Cash adds another
masterpiece to his catalog that can live beside such landmarks as "I Walk the Line" and "Folsom
Prison Blues."
"The Man Comes Around" is an apocalyptic dream showing any doubters the aging country rebel has
indeed seen it all and now only waits for the final judgment. It opens with Cash reciting what sounds
like lines from Revelation and quickly proceeds to a bouncing hymnal detailing armageddon. And yet
this is not a hopeless end of the world those not as prepared for death as Cash seems to be are
offered their last minute salvation. By the song's conclusion, all that's left is Cash's detached
voice bringing the words of Hell.
Elsewhere on the album, Fiona Apple's vocals contrast strongly with Cash's on "Bridge Over Troubled
Water," but that clash appropriately curves the song's political tone from the older generation
to the younger one. And backed only by a pipe organ, Cash gives a beautifully sobering version
"Danny Boy."
The album closes with a pleasant version of "We'll Meet Again," with vocals credited to the whole
Cash gang of guest players. As Cash fights serious illness with every passing day, each new record
is feared to be his last. With this final track, Cash assures his fans that he'll work to the very
end:
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go,
I was singing this song:
We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when
Regardless of whether Cash completes another album, this chapter of the American Recordings can
fill the role of masterful final episode or precursor to the stunning conclusion.
Daniel Goslee (drgoslee@syr.edu)