Just a quick one this morning to acknowledge that yesterday would have been Johnny Cash’s 80th birthday, and to actually sort of ask a question or spark a discussion. Through the miracle of my iPod shuffle goddess yesterday morning, his version of “Folsom Prison Blues” came up and, not for the first time in the past year, I found myself again troubled at the prisoners’ hoots and applause at probably one of the most famous lines in his huge repertoire:
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
While this isn’t something that I’d probably have given much thought to in the past, over the years I have become much more sensitive to the rights of victims and in the case of murder, the trail of misery for the family and friends left behind. So the compassion in my soul for all human beings who suffer, including those who make mistakes or poor choices that injure others, gets a little tied up in knots sometimes. It’s why I wrestle with the issue of the death penalty, and on some days I find it barbaric and other days I feel I’d have no problem flipping that switch. Such is the human condition, full of contradictions and inner turmoil.
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
Yesterday, not realizing it was Cash’s birthday, I came home and mentioned to my son that I was having a problem wrapping my head around two things with this song and performance. First, it was the cheers of the audience to that line. But the other problem is trying to understand Cash’s motivation for providing entertainment for the prison population as opposed to…let’s just say…doing a Bono-like charity concert on behalf of the survivors of violent crime. He too noted that he often wondered about that song, and off he went to Google-land to see what he could find on the subject.
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
Those of you who know more than me and I imagine that’s almost all of you, probably know that this is not a new subject. The single was released shortly before RFK was assassinated, and once he was dead the radio stations pulled it off the air because of that one particular line in the song. Columbia Records edited it out, despite Cash’s objection and re-released it. End of story? Hardly.
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
Turns out that Cash took the melody and some of the lyrics of this song when he first recorded it for Sun Records from another man. Gordon Jenkins was the original composer in 1953, calling his version “Crescent City Blues” and Sun chose not to credit him Cash’s version. In the early seventies Johnny paid him $75,000 to settle a lawsuit. That in itself is hardly some sort of sensational bit of news. Folk songs are like that…they inspire other songs, often similar in rhythm, melody, structure and yes…even lyrics. (Hello Bob, meet Woody.) But here is where it gets really interesting.
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
The recording’s most notable feature — the whoops from the audience at the “Reno” line — were added in post-production, according to writer Michael Streissguth, author of Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison: The Making of a Masterpiece.And depending which version of the song you own, those whoops are either there or not. My copy on Sony Legacy has them added.
This morning I found a version shown below on You Tube, and it was performed way before the show at Folsom Prison. Actually in Los Angeles, 1959 for the Town Hall Party show. Listen to the crowd. They’re not prisoners, just fans I suspect. Cheering at a great song, artist and performer. And a few whoops at that line. Just a few, but they’re there. Still bugs me a little….contradictions and inner turmoil I suppose.
