It’s interesting to compare Johnnie Wright and Jack Anglin with the Louvin Brothers. Both were raw, close harmony duos who excelled at gospel; between them, they accounted for several country standards. Violent 1960s car crashes ended both acts, killing Jack Anglin and Ira Louvin within two years of one another.
The differences, however, were no less profound. The Louvins today are swaddled in mystique, invoked over the years by the admiration of Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris, and countless others. Onstage, they were charismatic entertainers who did their share of comedy and novelty tunes. Their records, however, were dignified and intensely earnest, echoing the spirit of the Blue Sky Boys. The Louvins’ reputations were further enhanced by the compelling concept albums they recorded at Capitol under Ken Nelson’s direction.
No such mystique surrounds Johnnie & Jack. A few years older than Ira and Charlie, Jack sang high tenor with brothers Jim and Red as the Anglin Brothers before hooking up with Wright in the late 1930s. Over a decade working deep south radio and stages with Wright’s wife, the then-obscure Kitty Wells, made them seasoned entertainers. When they began recording for RCA in 1949, amiability generally trumped earnestness. While their instrumental backing was Acuffesque (complete with dobro), their repertoire blended old and new country and sacred material with pop, R&B and novelty fare.
1951’s “Poison Love”, their first hit, introduced the distinctive Latin beat they applied to some material, a gimmick Acuff (or the mercurial Ira Louvin) would never have tolerated. “Poison” leads off this eighteen-song anthology of material from their eleven years (1949-1960) at RCA, including their chart hits “Cryin’ Heart Blues” (1951), “Three Ways Of Knowing” (1952), and a cover of the Four Knights’ 1954 pop hit “Oh Baby Mine (I Get So Lonely)”. Ironically, “Ashes Of Love”, arguably their most enduring number, never charted.
Whether produced by Steve Sholes or his successor, Chet Atkins, Wright and Anglin were consummate pros. Their enthusiasm resulted in surprisingly strong covers of pop tunes such as “Kiss Crazy Baby” and the Moonglows’ R&B classic “Sincerely”. Atkins’ new Nashville Sound production ideas gave them a sparkling 1957 rendition of Carl Belew’s “Stop The World And Let Me Off”, their final top-10 single before the duo moved to Decca in 1960.
Novelties account for the weaker moments: Jimmie Driftwood’s “Sailor Man” and Cy Coben’s “Beware of ‘It'”, the latter yet another example of Sholes forcing dreck from his cronies at Hill and Range Publishing on RCA artists.
No Johnnie & Jack domestic CDs have previously been available. Bear Family’s comprehensive box set is in print but unaffordable for most, so this collection is welcome despite the skimpy packaging. While it’s no big deal that the cover comes from an earlier RCA hits LP, it’s difficult to discern why they included a convoluted list of session musicians while omitting the equally important recording dates. It’s nonetheless an important and worthwhile disc, a reminder of two consummate entertainers who took a lighter approach to close harmony.