And I shall devote this entry to old men who continue to rock. Real old men, I mean.


I last night listened to Johnny Cash's outstanding American III: Solitary Man, an excellent record of covers and a few originals released in 2000. Among the covers is U2's "One," which gets the gravelly-voice-and-a-guitar treatment, to haunting effect.


Anyway, a roommate at the time, Neil, was also a big U2 fan. On this particular night, I was doing some reading and listening to Johnny, and Neil cautiously entered the room, perplexed. Like he knew the song, but just couldn't handle the difference. "Who is this?" "Johnny Cash." Pause. "Why do people like this guy? His voice or something?"

And then he exited.

And I was incredulous. His voice or something? Um, yeah. What pipes! And Johhny was 66 when this was done. Wow.


Also, I saw Solomon Burke perform on The Tonight Show a few days ago. That 400-pound man can sing. If I were still living on mommy and daddy's money, his Don't Give Up On Me would be my next purchase. Instead, I'll just get nothing.