Download Games Para Pc Super Compactados. Although he had already signed with Sun Records, Johnny Cash was still struggling as a musician in 1955, taking gigs around Memphis with the Tennessee Two but not yet landing a strong hit single. To make ends meet, he worked at the Home Equipment Company selling venetian blinds, and it was his employer that sponsored his first radio show on KWEM.

In May 1955, he played his first show live in the studio, and those 15 minutes are the centerpiece of the latest Johnny Cash reissue, the second in what will hopefully be a long bootleg series. Besides the fact that he sings only three songs and Luther Perkins plays a short instrumental, what's surprising about this short set is how awkward Cash comes across: As a musician, he's confident and clever with that booming voice and careful phrasing, and the Tennessee Two are just as energetic and tight as ever. Reading the ad copy for the Home Equipment Company's inventory of blinds and fencing, however, Cash speaks haltingly and stumbles a bit over his words, peppering his commendations with odd pauses and rhythms. He comes off as the exact opposite of the cool, smooth-talking peddler, and maybe that made him a much more trustworthy spokesman.

That radio program is an intriguing time capsule from an era when radio was much more localized when Cash was young and unschooled, and it's almost a winking punchline that it's followed by an announcement for a concert in which Cash gets seventh billing. It's an intriguing glimpse of the artist at his most human, before he became an industry. As such it's the heart of From Memphis to Hollywood, the second volume in Columbia's bootleg series-- a reminder that Cash started out humbly before he became legendary (the radio show was also included on a bonus disc in The Legend box set in 2005). Nearly eight years after his death, it's difficult to get any critical distance on Cash, as his music is so wrapped up in his larger-than-life persona. So hearing him in this radio setting is a good reminder that there is much about him that remains unexamined and unconsidered. However, that's really the only revelatory moment on From Memphis to Hollywood, which collects demos and rarities and generally reinforces common perceptions of the Man in Black.

There are 11 solo demos that he recorded from 1954 through 1957, but the only surprise is that 'I Walk the Line' was originally written to be a dour ballad. We get acoustic versions of hits like 'Get Rhythm' and obscurities like 'My Treasure', most of which are performed in a necessarily stark way that seems to prefigure his American Recordings albums. Some songs sound good in this setting while others are obvious demos, but the percussive wallop of the Tennessee Two is sorely missed. It's actually refreshing that they figure so prominently in the Sun Records demos produced by Sam Phillips and Cowboy Jack Clement.

It's obvious why the label signed the trio: These versions of 'Leave That Junk Alone' and 'Big River' percolate with prickly energy, and Cash exhibits fresh interpretive range. All Softbizscripts Nulledphp on this page. He and the Two rumble through an abortive take on Jimmie Rodgers' 'Brakeman's Blues', which sounds like it's destined to fall apart, and deliver a poignant version of Leadbelly's 'Goodnight Irene'. With a sense of organizational purpose and of local music history, the first disc depicts Cash an artist hungry for success and willing to sell venetian blinds to get there.

When he signed with Columbia records in 1958, he and his family moved out to Los Angeles, where Cash continued to record and dabbled in acting. There are many fine songs and many mediocre songs on the second disc, which spans 1958 through 1969. There's Cash singing a taut version of 'Five Minutes to Live' and waxing nostalgic on 'Send a Picture of Mother'. He does story-songs about outlaws and soldiers, some of which are still wrenching ('Hardin Wouldn't Run') and some of which have aged poorly ('Johnny Reb'). And then there's 'Shifting, Whispering Sands', perhaps one of the most over-the-top recordings Cash ever made, complete with narration by Lorne Greene, best known as Ben Cartwright on 'Bonanza'. The portrait of Cash on this second disc is, unfortunately, fuzzy and poorly defined.

It showcases everything we know about him and very little we don't know. His voice sounds just as deep and authoritative as ever, his tastes just as broad, his concerns just as grave, but we've heard him in these settings countless times.

There are no discoveries to make among these songs, no secrets to untangle-- in other words, nothing that adds much detail to our understanding of the artist or his career. That's not an indictment of Columbia's bootleg series, which launched in 2006 with archival recordings that Cash made primarily for himself. That collection showed the private man away from the crowds and the cameras, when he had a few moments alone. Hopefully there are more volumes on the way, perhaps compiling his output from the late 1970s through the early 1990s-- a lost chapter of his life when he was considered old hat among Nashville hat acts and was banished to dinner club purgatory. That's a Johnny Cash we don't know very well, and a glimpse of the casual, private, work-in-progress side of those years would make him all the more fascinating.