Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison

I heard on the radio that this week was the 45th anniversary of the release of Johnny Cash's live album recorded at Folsom Prison. Now, 45 is not exactly a round number, but this news compelled me to buy it and write it about, as I haven't had a chance to discuss Johnny Cash here before.

How many have people have said, "I don't like country music, but I like Johnny Cash"? I know I have, because Cash transcends the genre. He's not all steel-guitar and cowboy hats, and his songs aren't just about losing your woman and your pickup truck. He's one of the great American originals, embracing all styles of music (he even recorded a Trent Reznor song).

At Folsom Prison was something of a watershed moment for him. His career was on the decline. He had performed at prisons before--he always seemed to have an affinity for them, especially since his first real hit, "Folsom Prison Blues," connected him with the incarcerated more than any other artist.

So in 1968 he and Carl Perkins, the Tennessee Three, and June Carter performed two shows for the inmates in Folsom. The highlights came out on the album, which was a smash hit and revived Cash's career, leading to a television show and cemented his stature as an American icon.

Here's the thing, though: the album is almost entirely about prisons or prisoners. He opens with "Folsom Prison Blues," one of the great songs of the American songbook: "When I was a baby, my mama told me son, always be a good boy, never play with guns. But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die, now I'm stuck in Folsom Prison, and I hang my head and cry." This makes perfect sense, but as the album wears on there are more and more songs about prison life, or, even more starkly, execution. There's the "Green, Green Grass of Home," "25 Minutes to Go," and "The Long Black Veil," all told from the point of view on someone who has been executed. There's "Stripes," "The Wall," and "Send a Picture of Mother," all about life inside the can. Now, clearly the inmates enjoyed this show, hooting and hollering. But I would think they'd want to hear about anything but prisons.

More in that spirit is "Orange Blossom Special" and a rousing duet of "Jackson" with Carter. There's also, available on the CD re-release, a seven-minute version of "John Henry," and the show ends with Cash performing a song written by an inmate, Glenn Sherley.

Since it's live we get all sorts of weird indications that this was recorded in a prison. Every so often there's announcements that a prisoner is wanted in reception, and the prisoners laugh at the strangest things. During "The Long Black Veil," which is about a man who goes to the gallows rather than reveal his alibi is that he was with his best friend's wife, Cash has to break up laughing when someone applauds at that line. The album ends with the sounds of the prisoners filing out of the auditorium.

Later Cash would record an album at San Quentin, which was in our household when I was a kid. In fact, is there anyone who doesn't like Johnny Cash? I'm not sure how I would react to such a person.