Cash purists who've seen the Granada TV special made in conjunction with the album know that this CD is neither "complete" nor "uncensored." At least two songs are missing: "Orange Blossom Special" and "Jackson." (At three different places on the disc you can hear convicts calling out the latter title; rest assured Cash and his wife did oblige them.) An off-color remark Cash made to a TV cameraman at the close of "I Walk the Line" has been trimmed. Also, unlike last year's "At Folsom Prison" reissue, the selections here are not in original running order. But knowing this diminishes neither the importance of what IS here, nor the CD's enjoyment factor.

This album marked the debut of lead guitarist Bob Wootten, who'd replaced the late Luther Perkins, originator of Cash's "boom-chicka-boom" backing. Wootten was never hotter than during his first year with the troupe, and his double-timed licks add to the sense of wild urgency that permeates the concert. And vintage rock-n-roll fans need to get this album if only to hear Carl Perkins. In addition to his licks on John Sebastian's "Darling Companion" and the classic "A Boy Named Sue," Perkins takes a verse of "The Old Account" and displays the kind of southern-black vocal soul that shows up Elvis for the pretender he was. Eric Clapton, among others, knew that Perkins was the real deal; the one verse here proves it.

But the main event is Cash. Rough-hewn, raw, unencumbered by neither the drugs of earlier years nor the sense of religious responsibility to come, this is the Man in Black's finest hour of the most successful year of his career. It is THE Cash album to own.

14 of 15 found the following review helpful:


A legendary album is now twice as great with bonus tracks  Sep 16, 2003 By Lawrance M. Bernabo
The 1969 live album "At San Quentin" is unquestionably the definitive recording of Johnny Cash during his "wild" years, although I have to admit a personal preference for the songs and performances captured the year before on "At Folsom Prison." That album had made Cash a recognizable star even to people who did not listen to Country music and "At San Quentin" catapulted him to the highest level as a recording artist. What remains constant is Cash's ability to feed off of his captive audience. When he plays to these prisoners you do not doubt for a second that he is one of them, a larger than life outlaw, even though the only time he spent behind bars was in a drunk tank. Cash is clearly on the edge as he rips his way through jailhouse ballads ("Starkville City Jail," "San Quentin"), rockabilly songs ("Big River"), and old hits ("I Walk the Line," "Ring of Fire"). But it is when Cash sings "A Boy Named Sue," a song written by Shel Silverstein, that he shows his absolutely mastery (the rest of us were just shocked by a hit record with a "bleep" on it).

This was a legendary album for decades and now this 2000 reissue literally doubles its length, from nine to eighteen tracks providing, as the cover proudly proclaims, the complete February 1969 concert. One of the "new" tracks is the other hit single that came off the album, "Daddy Sang Bass." But it is still totally amazing that you can take a definitive album by a major figure in modern American music and make it twice as long (imagine that being the case with any other great album from "Sgt. Pepper" to "Nevermind"; it blows your mind). There are a handful of albums that you should be checking out, if you do not already own them, to appreciate the Man in Black and his music and "At San Quentin" has to be one of the fingers you would tick off on the first hand you used. Johnny Cash, with his resonant baritone and distinctive sound, was one of the most imposing figures in country music in our lifetime and it is nice to know that when he died this past week that he was appreciated by even the most recent generation of music lovers.

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