On a day that is already filled with tributes and outpourings of emotion, there is probably little that can be said about Johnny Cash that won’t be said elsewhere. But as unsurprising as the news that he had passed on was, the reality of it still resonates with a slow burn, not unlike the Man’s music. I myself first heard his music during my sophomore year in college – if memory serves, I might even have been introduced to the Man vis a vis his performance on U2’s Zooropa, released a year or so before his definitive solo record with Rick Rubin, American Recordings.
That seems ages ago now. As hard as it is to believe today, Cash was widely seen as a washed up has-been back then – in one publication from around that time, he explained how difficult things had been in recent years and heaped praise upon U2 for giving him the opportunity to reach out to a new audience again with their song “The Wanderer”. Unknown is whether Cash had any idea at the time that a former Beastie Boys producer was about to give him the inaugural record deal for his new label – a move that would not merely resuscitate the country star’s hobbled career, but effectively cement Cash’s reputation an American icon for the ages.
It’s almost impossible to think of Cash in recent years without being reminded of the health problems; he looked at least a decade older than 71 when he appeared on television shortly before his death. But before he went public with them (he was also promoting his autobiography the same week, as I recall), I remember noticing in a performance on VH-1’s Storytellers show with Willie Nelson a conspicuous Band-Aid on his right hand, a sure sign in retrospect that he’d been in the hospital only recently. In my mind, it was a symbolic badge of honor for Cash – each of his last two albums, American III: Solitary Man and American IV: The Man Comes Around, would be recorded and promoted under the shroud of illness. It was as if Cash were saying that no matter how weakened he was or however trembly his baritone became, that it could only make his life’s work—his music—that much more powerful.
As with all great artists who pass into the light (protruding middle finger and all), Johnny Cash will be sorely missed.