VH1 Storytellers (1998)

I have no rhyme nor reason why I am picking a given album on a given day, but the spirit moved me to pick one I know well, one I have listened the heck out of, and one my wife actually likes. Perhaps the only WN album she likes, and it doesn’t really count because it is half Johnny Cash. I find it interesting that the first two albums I have selected are both from 1998. And the one I have selected for tomorrow is from 1996. I haven’t been looking at the dates before I pick the albums, but it seems that I am attracted to something about this time period. Is it the mellowness? The sparse background? The aged quality of Willie’s voice? I don’t know. I’m learning as I go. I’m feeling my way into his oeuvre. I know this, though. I will be very surprised if this album gets bumped from my top ten, even after I listen to 300 plus albums. I can’t imagine Willie’s voice or his guitar playing being better in any setting. Johnny is fragile and fumbling, but the banter between the two is priceless. Was “Stupid” really the original title for “Crazy”? “Funny How Time Slips Away” reinforces the Proust theme I’m noticing. In search of lost time. You said you’d love me forever, but now you’ve gone and left me. Funny how fast forever goes by. Only Willie could make eternity seem funny. Funny how cavalier we are with eternity. How small we can be about something so big. And yet it captures Willie’s attitude toward life. He’s not mad at this woman for leaving him so quickly after promising to love him forever. He finds it funny. He finds humans funny. The human condition. We’re flawed but funny. Flawed but forgivable. This may be the best version of “Crazy.” Better even than Patsy Cline’s. Patoski says there are at least 27 recorded versions of “Whiskey River,” and there must be close to that for “Crazy,” but I can’t imagine a better one. You get to appreciate Willie’s guitar so much better on this album because there are no other distractions. Why am I not surprised to learn that Rick Rubin produced this, after hearing his great work with Johnny Cash on those end-of-career albums. My question for Rick is this: isn’t it time to record five end-of-career albums for Willie? What are you waiting for? He’s 77 for God’s sake. Maybe you don’t feel his career needs resuscitating the way Johnny’s did, but wouldn’t it be great to get five Willie albums on par with those last five Johnny Cash albums: respectful, raw, spare, authentic. No frills. Maybe Willie already has so much of that he doesn’t need it, but I’d still like to have it. The choices on this album are perfect, but I guess the credit doesn’t go to Rubin for that. I can’t really pick out one or two to highlight because they are all as nearly perfect versions of these classics as I can imagine: “Me and Paul,” “Night Life,” “Always on My Mind,” “On the Road,” “Family Bible.” The only downside to the album is it makes me feel sorry for Johnny Cash. He seems so old and forgetful. He seems embarrassed by how much better Willie is on guitar, and how much healthier he seems. Regardless, this is in my top ten, and I don’t see it leaving.