At San Quentin [The Complete 1969 Concert]

1	Big River previously unreleased / Bonus Track 1:56
2	I Still Miss Someone previously unreleased / Bonus Track 1:51
3	Wreck of the Old '97 2:04
4	I Walk the Line 3:29
5	Darlin' Companion 3:21
6	I Don't Know Where I'm Bound previously unreleased / Bonus Track 2:23
7	Starkville City Jail 6:14
8	San Quentin 4:06
9	San Quentin 3:13
10	Wanted Man 3:24
11	A Boy Named Sue 3:58
12	Peace in the Valley 2:30
13	Folsom Prison Blues previously unreleased / Bonus Track 4:23
14	Ring of Fire previously unreleased / Bonus Track 2:07
15	He Turned the Water into Wine previously unreleased / Bonus Track 4:01
16	Daddy Sang Bass previously unreleased / Bonus Track 2:42
17	The Old Account Was Settled Long Ago previously unreleased / Bonus Track 2:16
18	Closing Medley: Folsom Prison Blues/I Walk the Line/Ring of Fire/The R 5:08

Barnes & Noble

Johnny Cash at San Quentin was overpowering when it was released in 1969 and has grown in stature over the past three decades. Its reputation can only be enhanced with the addition of nine superb, previously unreleased tracks and the resequencing of the album to match the show's actual structure. "A Boy Named Sue" was performed for the first time here, extemporaneously, with Cash reciting Shel Silverstein's lyrics as Carl Perkins fashioned a melody behind him. The result, of course, was one of Cash's biggest hit singles. But "Sue," for all its energy and attitude, is just the beginning. Consider some of these new tracks: a stirring treatment of "I Still Miss Someone," containing some of Cash's most haunting lyrics; a brisk take on "Ring of Fire," with the Carter sisters mimicking the horn lines; a moving spiritual set comprised of Cash's "He Turned the Water into Wine," Carl Perkins's "Daddy Sang Bass" and L. R. Dalton's "The Old Account," with Perkins contributing a fiery, country-blues vocal. The package is rounded out by a touching reminiscence penned by June Carter Cash and an interview with a former San Quentin inmate named Merle Haggard (he was incarcerated when Cash first performed there in 1958), conducted by Marty Stuart. In the end, Stuart pretty much speaks for everyone in describing San Quentin as "a source of strength and inspiration for me throughout every nuance of my life." Yeah, it's that good. David McGee

All Music Guide

To put the performance on At San Quentin in a bit of perspective: Johnny Cash's key partner in the Tennessee Two, guitarist Luther Perkins, died in August 1968, just seven months before this set was recorded in February 1969. In addition to that, Cash was nearing the peak of his popularity -- his 1968 live album, At Folsom Prison, was a smash success -- but he was nearly at his wildest in his personal life, which surely spilled over into his performance. All of this sets the stage for At San Quentin, a nominal sequel to At Folsom Prison that surpasses its predecessor and captures Cash at his rawest and wildest. Part of this is due to how he feeds off of his captive audience, playing to the prisoners and seeming like one of them, but it's also due to the shifting dynamic within the band. Without Perkins, Cash isn't tied to the percolating two-step that defined his music to that point. Sure, it's still there, but it has a different feel coming from a different guitarist, and Cash sounds unhinged as he careens through his jailhouse ballads, old hits, and rockabilly-styled ravers, and even covers the Lovin' Spoonful ("Darlin' Companion"). No other Johnny Cash record sounds as wild as this. He sounds like an outlaw and renegade here, which is what gives it power -- listen to "A Boy Named Sue," a Shel Silverstein composition that could have been too cute by half, but is rescued by the wild-eyed, committed performance by Cash, where it sounds like he really was set on murdering that son of a bitch who named him Sue. He sounds that way throughout the record, and while most of the best moments did make it to the original 1969 album, the 2000 Columbia/Legacy release eclipses it by presenting nine previously unreleased bonus tracks, doubling the album's length, and presenting such insanely wild numbers as "Big River" as well as sweeter selections like "Daddy Sang Bass." Now, that's the only way to get the record, and that's how it should be, because this extra material makes a legendary album all the greater -- in fact, it helps make a case that this is the best Johnny Cash album ever cut. Stephen Thomas Erlewine