George Jones - Live Recordings from the Louisiana Hayride (compilation)
Label: Scena Records
Style: Country
Released: 2004 (Recorded 1956-1969)
My Grade: 4 stars
AMG: 4
Sounds like: Charlie Rich, Tammy Wynette, Merle Haggard, Hank Williams

Emo followers would do well to note what Elvis Costello pointed out in an interview with Nick Kent for NME, long before that melodramatic movement hit the streets: “…as far as I can see, those [two of Elvis’s] are the only songs in the rock idiom where a guy is admitting absolute defeat… I’m talking about being a complete loser. That’s something really new to the rock idiom, which by its very nature is immature and totally macho-oriented in its basic attitude. Only in country music can you find a guy singing about that kind of deprivation honestly.”

This disc, a group of recordings for one of the biggest shows in country music, is a document that charts the evolution of the most important voice in country. It begins in 1956, when George Jones was showing off his early attempts at being Hank Williams. His voice (in terms of songwriting and pipes) isn’t fully developed (except for in the beautiful “Color of the Blues”), but the cuts stomp, and Jones’ delivery sets him apart from the rest even then. By 1960, Jones is moving towards that earth-shattering loneliness with “Accidently on Purpose” and “Don’t Stop the Music”; and when ’68 hits, George is singing the gorgeous, aching ballads he became known for.

The only song I would rate poorly – and it really hurts my anti-machismo intro – is the song “You Better Treat Your Man Right”. I would enjoy it if I didn’t understand English; musically, it’s just as fine as the other cuts. The problem with it is that it reads as the prelude to a husband beating his wife (“You better wear a smile when I come home, and not a frown,” he sings). Horrifying stuff; and lyrically, it’s a stark contrast to the vulnerability that permeates so many of his songs. Other than that perturbing tune, all the other songs are wonderful.

The sound quality is substandard, but that seems to be the fault of the source material; and considering how few live recordings of Jones’s have been released, I can’t dock points for that. For the uninitiated, the two-disc Cup of Loneliness: The Classic Mercury Years should be the first stop; if you’re already familiar with Jones’s music, however, pick this up. George Jones at his peak sang as a country virtuoso. He sang nuanced ballads that rank among the most resigned, affecting songs this side of Skip James. Let Carrabba and his ilk try to convey that colossal sense of loss.

Reviewed by: Ed