I'm not sure what inspired it, but I suddenly got the urge to really check out some old timier folks who I've always liked, but never listened to thoroughly: Johnny Cash and Frank Sinatra. Lets start early.
There's probably not a lot I can add here. Its an album of simple, twangy county with that booming, crooning voice over it all, singing songs about love, loss, and not being the man you ought to be. Cash, in all these vignettes, ain't right, missing something in himself and others. But the sense isn't sad, so much as its aching, pushing on relentlessly through long days and longer nights. The guitar parts are clean and pleasant, mostly simple - though the furious Wreck of the old 97 takes things to another level. I wish there was more here like it.
I can't say its an album I have too much use for front to back. Its goddamned cool at times, but a bit too wide-eyed and mournful in others. Good road music, if nothing else, as I learned in Barstow long ago 3.5/5
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