Fucking Johnny Cash became the flavor of the month a while back among the hipsters. Shit, my mom was a Cash fan when I was a kid and I couldn't think of anything more square than his Live at San Quentin album, with that fucking "Boy Named Sue" song that annoyed me even at the age of seven. Well, when I was in college -- this was way before he became cool again -- my folks invited me to a Cash concert with them and I passed on it, and yes I sort of regret it in hindsight that I didn't go, but seriously he wasn't cool back then.
Motherfucking Merle Haggard is just as hard core as Johnny Cash ever was. More so since Haggard actually did some real hard time, whereas Cash was, by and large, a poser. But Merle Haggard is the Schlitz to the Pabst Blue Ribbon that Cash has become. In other words, few recognize the true genius that gave us Okie From Muskogee, while band-waggoners are all on board for Folsom Prison Blues. Mutts. All of them.
Motherfucking Merle Haggard is just as hard core as Johnny Cash ever was. More so since Haggard actually did some real hard time, whereas Cash was, by and large, a poser. But Merle Haggard is the Schlitz to the Pabst Blue Ribbon that Cash has become. In other words, few recognize the true genius that gave us Okie From Muskogee, while band-waggoners are all on board for Folsom Prison Blues. Mutts. All of them.
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