Johnny Cash: Great Race, Rough Finish

Johnny Cash recorded a song called "(I Don't Like It But I) Guess Things Happen That Way" nearly 30 years ago. Maybe the tune was running through his head after his Harborlights concert a week ago Thursday. It had been a near-perfect evening. Cash was in better voice than he's shown in years of area performances, dispatching old showstoppers and thoughtful tunes he's recently recorded, like Tom Petty's "Southern Accents," with the confidence of an old tomcat on a midnight prowl. And his wife, June Carter Cash, injected glitzy-but-downhome vigor into her own mid-show segment as she reminisced about her deep country roots and harmonized with her daughter Rosie Carter.

But the evening ended with a derailment. Midway through his novelty hit "A Boy Named Sue" Cash forgot the lyrics and couldn't regain his composure. He skipped lines, juxtaposed words, garbled syllables, and -- after blowing the tune's punch-line finish -- rushed off the stage seemingly embarrassed.

It was a pity that this gripping concert came to an awkward end, because Cash -- who's 65 -- had been in top form. He made his entrance in a black frock coat, strumming a matching black guitar and offering revved versions of "Folsum Prison Blues" and "Ghost Riders in the Sky" (complete with coyote yelps). He hit his notes, smiled, and played with energy and strength -- dispelling the air of injury from painkiller addiction, hip and jaw ailments, and the host of other evils that have plagued him in recent years.

The audience firmly in his grasp, Cash then did what he does best. His battered-baritone vocals and Joe Friday delivery are just right for portraying the lives of tortured souls. And his Kris Kristofferson-penned hit "Sunday Morning Coming Down" is the perfect vehicle, with its story of a hollow man spending a hungover "morning after" pining for the normality and balance he sees in those living around him. Of course, David Lynch would play hell with that notion. But Cash makes his narrator yearn for a taste of American pie. The title track from his latest CD, Unchained (American), "I Still Miss Someone," and "Southern Accents" all worked in much the same way.

He shifted gears to kick up dust with songs from his Sun Records days. Hillbilly rockers like "Get Rhythm" and "I Walk the Line" shook with authority. But Cash's stalwart guitarist, Bob Wooten, doesn't have the percolating rhythm chops of Cash's late sidekick Luther Perkins, whose hot-boogie picking was missed on the first tune. Cash himself provided the trademark chug for "I Walk the Line," demonstrating how he wedged a piece of paper between his strings to simulate the sound of a snare drum, which his '50s Sun sessions lacked.

It was a pleasure to hear June Carter recall her days playing with her mother, Maybelle, and the Carter family, for country music's roots go back hardly any farther than her own. (The Carters were beaten to the punch only by Jimmie Rodgers.) Whether she was harmonizing with Cash or strumming her autoharp and singing "Wildwood Flower," her bright-eyed presence and gravel-edged power-singing were a match for her husband on this memorable night.

By birthright and craft, Johnny and June together hold title to some of the greatest entries in the American songbook. And they seem capable of authoring a few more.

-- Ted Drozdowski