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?
[...] I Did Too Inflict My Love of “Long Black Veil” on Feministe Posted on September 8, 2009 by Aunt B. And my displeasure at Rosanne Cash’s take on it. [...]
I wish my favorite was some sort of proto-feminist masterpiece by Loretta Lynn or Dolly Parton, but it was and, I suspect, always will be George Jones’s “A Good Year for the Roses.”
The lyrics about a couple growing apart are a masterpiece of understatement — which you’d hope since the song’s about the many ways folks have of not communicating with each other. And the way Jones’s voice balances strength and fragility perfectly captures the mental state of someone who’s fighting hard not to feel the pain of a breakup.
I just listened again and and remembered again why I love this song.
Witchita Lineman.
A ton of awesome covers since Bill Campbell. My favorite version is the one by the Meters.
The sparse lyrics is also pretty cool.
Tough one. I’m not a big country fan, but ANYTHING sung by K.D. Lang.
and Johnny Cash Walk The Line. No Ring of Fire. I dunno. Waylon and Willie Mama Don’t Let your babies…
Joanne by Michael Nesmith.
If I have to name one, I guess it would be “Ghost Riders in the Sky”….
But I love any number of old country gothic songs like “Ode to Billy Joe”… and lots of Johnny Cash, early Parton and Loretta Lynn.
Fist City? How about appallingly awesome?
Oh, come on. I’ll listen to anything at all if Willie Nelson is singing it, and almost anything at all if Johnny Cash is singing it – and if I had to restrict myself to just one song, I’d go mad.
And a crazy Jesurgislac is a cranky Jesurgislac…
Oh, come on. I’ll listen to anything at all if Willie Nelson is singing it, and almost anything at all if Johnny Cash is singing it – and if I had to restrict myself to just one song, I’d go mad.
And a crazy Jesurgislac is a cranky Jesurgislac…
I have to say that I do love “Wichita Lineman” for the mere simplicity and longing in it, but if I have to name Don Williams’ Good Ol’ Boys Like Me as a song that resonates me.
And then of course, Cash and Kitty Wells’ Honky Tonk Angels with some Patsy thrown in for good measure.
I was just coming back to change my vote. It’s not my favorite song ever, but I think “Would you lay with me (in a field of stone)” by David Allen Coe has to be a front runner for best country music song ever. Any song that can be sung by three different people–Coe himself (sounding like a confession about how hard he is on women), Tanya Tucker (which folks thought was about her losing her virginity–”If I go this far with you, will you be there for me later?”), and Johnny Cash (making it sound like he’s singing it in a cemetery).
Ha.
And Willie Nelson. Whew. No kidding. If he sang “Long Black Veil” I’d fall over.
And what about “Seven Spanish Angels” by Ray Charles? I can’t even listen to that song, it makes me cry.
I’ve got no favorite country song, or rather I’ve got too many to list. Right now, it’s maybe George Jones’s version of “Lonely Street.” Or Leanne Womack’s version of “King of Broken Hearts.” Once I’m more awake, it’ll probably be something more cheerful.
But “Fist City” — I vote for appalling but believable.
Sometimes the happiness over the top of somber lyrics works, for irony….but I agree, I don’t think this is one of those cases.
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.
I had a slightly different reaction to the song. Like you, I thought that her husband would kill her if she told. But I thought that the singer/ghost was expecting her to tell anyway-to love him enough to sacrifice herself for him. And that he was gloating over her mourning and the pain (guilt?) she feels over having not saved him. In short, maybe I’m overly cynical but I see the singer as a Nice Guy(TM).
Oh no, Dianne! I’m sorry, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I am going to have to totally “la la la la la la la” over the top of your comment, because holy shit, that seems completely plausible and it will ruin my ability to be able to enjoy the song if I hear it that way.
I love this cover and Rosanne Cash is an amazing singer. It is not the Nick Cave rendition. I believe Mark Lanegan covered Long Black Veil.
For those interested in the original version of Tennessee Flat Top Box.
Johnny Cash – Tennessee Flat Top Box
Rosanne Cash grew up with the song in her house. She had no her father co-wrote it until she planned on recording it.
Johnny Cash – Long Black Veil
The Joan Baez version of LBV is the best version evah. No argument is allowed.
Oops, now I’ve done it! At risk of making matters worse, you could just frame it as the song’s being complex and interesting enough to offer multiple interpretations based partly on the singer’s version.
No, I’m sorry, Mick Jagger’s version with the Cheiftans is absolutely the best version of “Long Black Veil.” Which is a good thing, because otherwise Mick Jagger would have gone down in history as the most inexplicably famous singer people pretend actually has talent in the history of the world.
Ha.
Thanks, Dianne.
No, the best evah version is by the Band, since it’s the spookiest.
I have always had a different take on the song, maybe more simplistic. It always seemed to me that his motivation for his silence was his guilt over his betrayal of his best friend. She is silent for essentially the same reason. So the song is essentally about the price each paid for their betrayal of a man they both cared about or more specifically the price they paid to hide that betrayal.
I see where your interpretation comes from, though I am not sure there is much in the song itself to signal that the friend’s reaction would be violence. If the line was “another man’s wife” instead “my best friend’s wife” I would think your interpretation would be clearer since there is no personal betrayal angle.
Diamanda Galas’s version of LBV is astonishing; if you haven’t heard it, I strongly suggest that you track it down.
You’re welcome.
I like antinome’s interpretation too. It’s one of the few plausible explanations for why the two protagonists didn’t come up with some excuse that don’t involve fear of violence from the husband.
When I first heard the song I thought the singer and the woman in the song had acted in an incredibly foolish manner. Why didn’t she just say, “He was with me. My husband was gone and I thought I heard someone in the house so I rushed over to him to get help. He came and explored the house and found a rat the size of a St Bernard and killed it. By which time I was so hysterical that he had to spend the night on the couch. I felt much better in the morning.” People might say, “Giant rat, yeah, right,” but they’d probably accept it.
The woman’s husband might say, “Is this ‘giant rat’ a sign that we need to talk about our relationship more?”, but he’d probably accept the explanation too. Unless he were violent or pathologically jealous. Or they felt so guilty about betraying him that they almost didn’t care whether he knew or not: the point was that THEY knew.
I like the Baez version of LBV, but was raised on that of the The Band, and thats what I play the most.
If we’re gonna get old school, “Wildwood Flower” and “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” (not quite traditional, in that we know the authors of the latter), are indispensable country classics.
Of the “country rock/alt.country/Americana” school, I’d offer “Willin’” (written by Lowell George, covered by everybody), “Pancho and Lefty” (written by Townes Van Zandt, with the best version from Emmylou Harris), and my personal favorite “I Ain’t Ever Satisfied”, by Steve Earle.
I’m with Aunt B, the Mick Jagger/Chieftains version of “Long Black Veil” is the winner.
I’m not much of a country fan, although “I Walk The Line” and “Ring of Fire” are great songs no matter who’s singing them. Do we get to count any Grateful Dead songs as country? “Friend of the Devil” gets my vote if we do.
David Allan Coe’s “If That Ain’t Country” is not only a great song, but the lyrics set out the definition of all the ways a song can be a country song, and the singer a bona fide country singer.
I love DAC, and a lot of other men and women, but Johnny Cash is my all-around favorite. His rendition, with June Carter, of “Daddy Sang Bass” or “Jackson” will always bring me to smiles through tears.
I have to say that Antinome’s interpretation of the song is what mine has always been. I’m not sure I can agree that the narrator is a Nice Guy ™. Mostly because I think of them as walking off in a huff when the chips are down. But two lovers who punish themselves and each other because they have betrayed someone important to them both? That makes sense to me.
Have to toss in my vote for The Band’s version. It never occurred to me to consider the threat of violence to explain the characters silence. I always thought it was shame of the betrayal and fear of social stigma.
“Love in the Afternoon” is one of my all-time favorites.
[...] should come as no surprise that one of the radio presets in my car is a country station. There are quite a few songs that I relate to in a lot of ways, and usually the few songs that offend me I can either overlook [...]