Hands-down the best country and western song ever, ever, ever is “Long Black Veil.” It sounds like the kind of song that should have always existed, been sung by lonely men wandering Scottish moors or something. It was, though, written by some folks whose names we know–Danny Dill and Marijohn Wilkin–and first recorded by Lefty Frizzell in 1959.
If only for the way the phrase, “But sometimes at night, when the cold wind blows, in a long black veil, she cries over my bones,” it deserves to be considered great art. But the way a really great singer can stop your heart with the way he or she phrases “Nobody knows but me” just does it for me.
Maybe it’s years of listening to country music, but I have always thought that the fact that the speaker is willing to die rather than admit to being with her and that she’s willing to let him die rather than admit to being with him and yet he still seems to feel fondness and appreciation for her being willing to sneak out and cry for him indicates that, if she had admitted to being with him to save him from hanging, her husband would have killed her–hence, also, the stress on how “nobody knows, but him” that she does it–they had to keep it a secret in order to save her life.
It’s a great song. I own six different versions of it and I consider it to be such a good song that, no matter what a singer does, it must be virtually impossible to ruin it.
That is, until I heard Rosanne Cash sing it.
Cash has an album coming out in October, The List, which is a selection of songs from a list her dad gave her of the 100 best country songs. And it should be a no-brainer of a brilliant album–here are the songs Johnny Cash thinks you should know and love; here’s Rosanne Cash with one of the most beautiful voices in country music, deep and rich and… well, I just love it.
Mix all that with “Long Black Veil” and you should have a recipe for success.
But today I heard it. And I really don’t think it works. To put it mildly.
The biggest stumbling block for me is that this is supposed to be a kind of sad and tragic song. And yet the guitar riff that plays over and over again is unmistakable. Listen here. And here. And tell me if that’s not a slowed down version of “Tennessee Flat Top Box.” And that’s such a happy song!
I wonder if it’s supposed to be a little meta–like here’s a song about a ghost singing about the girl who haunts his grave with aural reference to a song and a sound that haunts Cash now that her dad is gone. But I keep wanting to have some thematic epiphany and it’s just not coming. There is no good reason to sing “Long Black Veil” over “Tennessee Flat Top Box.” One song sheds no light on the other. And the twang of recognition of the sample is distracting from the song.
And then, once you search out Rosanne’s version of “Tennessee Flat Top Box,” it’s impossible for me to not hear the joy in her voice as she sings. I hear that she loves that song, that it’s important to her.
If that same love of an old country song is there for “Long Black Veil” I’m having a hard time hearing it over what sounds like a bad Rosanne Cash cover band.
So, folks, I’m sorry to say that somehow, the greatest country and western song, ever, might also be the worst.
But what about y’all? If we had to argue about it, what do you think is the greatest country song and why? And, for extra credit, “Fist City”–proto-feminist awesomeness or kind of appalling?