CD of the Day: ‘American VI: Ain’t No Grave,’ Johnny Cash (2010)

I wanted to love this album because, you know, it’s the last Johnny Cash album ever. But I just don’t. And that’s fine, because “American VI” is basically just the leftovers from Cash’s American recordings, anyway. They’re nice, sure, but leftovers never taste as good as the original meal.

The best song is right out front: “Ain’t No Grave” plays like a sister track to “God’s Gonna Cut You Down”—same tone, same phrasing, same rattlin’ chains. This song also gets an extra-special boost with the banjo plucking of Scott Avett.

While none of the other nine tracks quite match up, they’re certainly good enough not to be left unheard in a storage room somewhere. Producer Rick Rubin cleaned out the last of the Man in Black’s treasure trove with this final release, and if nothing else it shows how amazingly productive Cash was in his last days—these are well-fashioned songs, not just the ramblings of an old singer past his prime. “Can’t Help But Wonder Where I’m Bound,” “For the Good Times,” and “Satisfied Mind” are my other favorites.

You’d think Cash’s last recordings would pack an emotional wallop, but that’s not the case. There’s no “On the Evening Train” or “Hurt” here; instead we have a couple rather tepid politically themed cuts like “Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream,” and Sheryl Crow’s “Redemption Day,” the latter featuring a spooky, breathy guitar part we’ve heard many times over in the American series.

Cash’s last original song, “I Corinthians 15:55,” aims for defiance in the face of death that characterizes so many of these latter-day tracks, but the scripture he chose to adapt is a bit wordy and awkward, siphoning off some of the words’ impact. “Aloha Oe” falls flat in the same way—the written words are full of meaning given the context of when Cash sang them, but it’s just plain weird to have his career end with a Hawaiian folk song.

“Ain’t No Grave” isn’t that one last masterpiece I was hoping for but I’m glad to have it, nevertheless. Despite its faults, the album proves Cash left this world in his full rejuvenated glory.

Grade: B-

Favorite Track: “Ain’t No Grave”

Least Favorite Track: “Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream”

CD of the Day: ‘American V: A Hundred Highways,’ Johnny Cash (2006)

Honesty and openness mark of all these American recordings, especially those after Cash fell ill. His frankness in the face of mortality is part of what makes this series so compelling. And perhaps no song in the entire catalog is as devastatingly transparent as this album’s “On the Evening Train.”

Though it was originally penned by Hank Williams, I can’t imagine there was a more fitting way for Cash to cathartically process the death of June Carter than this track; and, as is the case with so many of these latter songs, he allows us to read him like an open book. It ends thus:

I pray that God will give me courage

To carry on ’til we meet again

It’s hard to know she’s gone forever

They’re carrying her home on the evening train

Gets me every time.

That’s just one of several emotionally charged moments on “American V.” The album features tracks recorded in Cash’s final days, culled into a sterling collection by the Man in Black’s latter-day collaborator, producer Rick Rubin. Opener “Help Me” is another prayer to God, while Cash original “I Came to Believe” is one of the simplest and most effective declarations of Christian faith I’ve ever heard.

It’s not all about introspection, though. Cash still manages to stomp and strut as good as ever, facing death with courage and defiance. “Like the 309” is one more train-themed original for good measure; “Further On (Up the Road)” is one of the best Springsteen covers I’ve ever heard; and his chain-gang interpretation of “God’s Gonna Cut You Down” wields a heavenly thunder.

You could make the argument, I guess, that this album’s weakness is the three-track sequence of “A Legend in My Time”/“Rose of My Heart”/“Four Strong Winds,” but even these tower over many of the cover selections from previous entries in the series.

“A Hundred Highways” is the strongest, most moving American installment. If it had been the last of the group, there could have been no better ending for Cash's career than the quiet content found in “I’m Free from the Chain Gang Now.”

This is one of my favorite CDs of all time.

Grade: A

CD of the Day: ‘My Mother’s Hymn Book,’ Johnny Cash (2004)

In the liner notes for this release, Johnny Cash says “My Mother’s Hymn Book” is his favorite Johnny Cash album, and the recordings bear him out. Though on the surface this collection’s man-and-his-guitar sound is identical to 1994’s “American Recordings,” he brings a deeper level of passion to these beloved old songs. You can hear the love—for his mother, for music, for God—in his voice. He never overdoes it, either. Half the time it’s almost like he’s talking to you as much as singing; he’s lived with these hymns his whole life, so they float easily from his lips. This is simple and pure, a reflection of the way he seemed to live his life in those final days.

I know I’m one of the last people on earth still buying CDs, but if you don’t have this yet, I strongly urge you to pick up the physical copy (it’s also part of the “Unearthed” box set from ’03). The liner notes are an essential part of the listening experience, with comments from Cash and his family explaining why these songs meant so much to him, track by track. He talks about hearing two of these hymns at his brother’s funeral, how his mother loved some of them so deeply, and how his entire family sang “Let the Lower Lights Be Burning” around his father’s hospital bed.

More than anything, though, “My Mother’s Hymn Book” is a tremendous Christian witness. Cash isn’t just paying lip service to a genre he likes; these songs were etched into his soul, and, in a way, tell his own life’s redemption story. It’s like he combined all these hymns into one when he wrote “I Came to Believe” for “American V.”

This is moving, beautiful work.

God loves music and that music brings hope for a better tomorrow. —Johnny Cash

Grade: A

CD of the Day: ‘American IV: The Man Comes Around,’ Johnny Cash (2002)

That this is arguably Cash’s worst of the six proper American albums demonstrates just how wonderful this latter-day career renaissance truly was. Yes, "American IV" features some of the weakest songs of the catalog, but it also offers some of the best.

It’s impossible to start anywhere but with “Hurt,” the masterful Nine Inch Nails cover that exposed Cash to an entirely new generation; it is a triumph of interpretation and execution. “Personal Jesus” is another particular favorite, with that fantastic acoustic bass line drawing you into Cash’s still-imposing voice, while “Tear Stained Letter,” “Sam Hall,” and the title track demonstrate Cash could still rock and roll with you. He also offers majestic takes on The Beatles’ “In My Life,” Sting’s “I Hung My Head,” and his own “Give My Love to Rose.”

There’s a difference between stately and downright immobile, though, and too many tracks on “American IV” fall into the latter category. Cash’s version of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” has always seemed an odd choice to me, and “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” barely has a pulse. Later, the three-track run of “Danny Boy”/“Desperado”/“I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” is one of the worst stretches of any American album.

Cash manages a recovery, closing the last album of his life with the uplifting “We’ll Meet Again.” Yet nothing can mask the fact “American IV” is the most uneven of his final records.

Grade: B-

Favorite Track: “Personal Jesus”

Least Favorite Track: “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”

CD of the Day: ‘American III: Solitary Man,’ Johnny Cash (2000)

Following the recording of “Unchained,” Johnny Cash’s health started to seriously decline. The impact on his body and spirit are both evident in this, his next release.

"American III" is the first album of his career where Cash sounds frail. Though he can still muster much of his considerable bravado, his voice is shakier, his words slightly slurred at times—a marked difference from the bombast of “Unchained” four years earlier.

“American III” also marks a shift in theme and tone that would carry through the rest of his recording career. The choices here are significantly darker in content and interpretation, yet they are defiant and honest in the face of death. Look no further than opener “I Won’t Back Down,” supported by the man who wrote the song in the first place, Tom Petty. That sentiment could have titled this record and each of the remaining three Cash cut before succumbing to death in 2003.

Musically “American III” is a mixed bag and shows signs the American sessions were losing a little steam. The first half of this 14-song disc is outstanding, offering up some of his best work from this period. “I See A Darkness” is an epic masterpiece; Nick Cave’s “The Mercy Seat” is filled with frank boldness—“I’ve got nothing left to lose, and I’m not afraid to die,” he bellows. “Solitary Man” was worthy of the Grammy it won and features one of the best guitar parts of any American recording. Cash's cover of U2’s “One” is simply gorgeous.

The second half, though, is filled mostly with sleepy acoustic numbers that lack the urgency and vitality of the original “American Recordings” album. “Field of Diamonds” is notable here as the last Cash song to feature June Carter before her death, while “Wayfaring Stranger" is an appropriately mournful finale. But there’s little else to get excited about in the final seven tracks.

Grade: B

Favorite Track: “One”

Other Favorite Track: “I See A Darkness”

Least Favorite Track: “Would You Lay With Me (In A Field of Stone)”

CD of the Day: ‘Unchained,’ Johnny Cash (1996)

As the title aptly declares, on this record Cash sounds set free to do anything and everything he pleases like the steamrolling artist of his youth—like “American Recordings” was a cleansing process that left him renewed and reborn.

Backed by Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, it’s clear “Unchained” is a wholly different experience right from the first track, a sumptuous cover of Beck’s “Rowboat.” There’s freewheelin’ rockabilly frenzy throughout on tracks like “Kneeling Drunkard’s Plea,” “Country Boy,” “Mean Eyed Cat,” and “I’ve Been Everywhere.” You can hear the smile in these songs.

The album features slower numbers, too, but Cash’s still-massive voice soars anew with a full band behind him on cuts like “Unchained,” “Spiritual,” and “Meet Me in Heaven.”

There are three songs that stand above the rest: a sparkling cover of Petty’s own “Southern Accents”; “Sea of Heartbreak,” which we now know from Rosanne Cash’s “The List” was one of the Man in Black’s 100 favorite songs of all time; and a fire-breathing interpretation of Soundgarden’s “Rusty Cage” which is one of the best recordings in his entire American catalog.

The first two CDs in this series are perfect complements to one another: the first reenergized Cash by bringing him back to his roots; the second showed what the man could do at his peak.

Grade: A-

Favorite Track: “Rusty Cage”

Least Favorite Track: “The One Rose (That’s Left in My Heart)”

CD of the Day: ‘American Recordings,’ Johnny Cash (1994)

To commemorate the release of Johnny Cash’s final album, “American VI: Ain’t No Grave,” earlier this year, CD of the Day will highlight the entire American series over the next week or so.

I know this is commonly regarded as Cash’s best album of his American sessions with producer Rick Rubin, but you’ll just have to forgive me if I don’t agree. That’s not to say “American Recordings” isn’t an excellent listen, I just prefer Cash backed by the likes of the Heartbreakers than flying solo.

I have to be in the right mood for “American Recordings”—it’s stark, deliberate, and dark. Like Springsteen’s “Nebraska,” it’s not the type of album to pop in any ol’ time, unless I'm in a somber mood and happen to be driving through the blackness of a moonless night.

The lack of accompaniment puts the focus squarely on Cash’s unmistakable voice, which at this point in his life could still fill a bottomless pit. There’s no wavering or frailty here as would follow on latter American releases; he’s all power and might. His guitar work is just as good, eschewing his trademark train-wheel cachunk for more traditional folk chords. Forced to choose, Glenn Danzig-penned “Thirteen” is my favorite track, but almost all of the choices are made of the same solid stuff.

“American Recordings” is like a heavy, dramatic film—I acknowledge its brilliance, but that doesn’t mean I want to go through it over and over again. Though it is certainly one of the most consistent efforts in Cash’s American series, I nevertheless listen to it less than all the others.

Grade: B

Favorite Track: “Thirteen”

Least Favorite Track: “The Man Who Couldn’t Cry”

CD of the Day: ‘Grey Cell Green’ EP, Ned’s Atomic Dustbin (1991)

Released in 1991, this EP was clearly ahead of its time, which is probably why Ned’s Atomic Dustbin never caught on in the U.S. (that, and the stupid name). “Grey Cell Green” sounds like a predecessor to the emo bands that rose to the fore about a decade later. Their crisp, clear, heavily electric sound is like a mix of Hey Mercedes and The Smashing Pumpkins.

Musically, NAD is quite exciting here, especially the tidal wave of sound that is “Titch”; for only 16 minutes' worth of songs, each of the five tracks carry their own identity and have significant variety from one to another. What holds them back is vocalist Jonn Penney, whose voice isn’t all that dynamic and seems to land on basically one note the whole way through.

Grade: B

Favorite Track: “Titch”

CD of the Day: ‘Californication,’ Red Hot Chili Peppers (1999)

This dramatic comeback album is greater than the sum of its parts. The best songs are frontloaded on the disc, but the second half doesn’t exactly falter, either. “Californication” is a smooth and pleasurable journey start to finish; its consistency goes a long way.

The first four songs are certainly one of the best stretches of music the band’s produced in two decades of work. Opener “Around the World” is actually the weakest of the bunch, but isn’t that growling bass line a great way to say, "Uh, yeah, we're BACK"? “Parallel Universe" takes the opposite tack; it builds and builds to a massive explosion in the final 1:30. “Scar Tissue’s” riff, meanwhile, rivals that of “Under the Bridge,” and “Otherside” is a groove of addictive power.

While the title track, in the sixth slot, is the last great song of this CD, that doesn’t mean the final eight cuts aren’t worth your time. “I Like Dirt” and “Right on Time” are the least of these, but they’re more than countered by hard-driving “Emit Remmus,” rich “This Velvet Glove,” and grandiose “Savior.” Quiet numbers, “Porcelain” and “Road Trippin’,” are also worthwhile.

After disappearing for the latter half of the ’90s, RHCP earned the accolades and success they received with this tremendous return to form. It got me through many an all-nighter.

Grade: A-

Favorite Track: “Scar Tissue”

Other Favorite Track: “Californication”

Least Favorite Track: “Get on Top”

CD of the Day: ‘Fairweather Johnson,’ Hootie & the Blowfish (1996)

For a while there, I wondered why I hadn’t listened to this album in probably 13 years. The first handful of songs are good pop/country rockers a la the band’s debut album, including excellent cuts like “Sad Caper,” “Old Man & Me,” and “Tucker’s Town.”

But man, oh man, the second half … ugh. To quote Jack Black from “High Fidelity,” it’s mostly impenetrable “sad bastard music,” the kicker being a double shot of "Fool" and "Tootie." Darius Rucker never had much range in the first place, but his melodies make a 49-minute disc feel twice as long by the end. Good for him on the recent reinvention, though.

An uneven effort that leaves me feeling like the Blowfish ran out of ideas pretty quick. Why they included 14 tracks on this album is beyond me.

Grade: C+

Favorite Track: “Sad Caper”

Least Favorite Track: “Tootie”

CD of the Day: ‘L.A. Woman,’ The Doors (1971)

The Doors’ final record is a mixed bag. Overall, it’s a very bluesy affair, with a dirtier sound than the band’s most famous songs. Jim Morrison is refreshingly un-JIM MORRISON here, shedding much of the bombast that infiltrated some previous efforts. Instead, the iconic frontman growls and howls his way through most of these tracks.

“The Changeling” is a great stomping number that sets the lowdown feel of “L.A. Woman” immediately and effectively. It’s followed by the unmistakable bounce of “Love Her Madly,” and two prototypical blues numbers, “Been Down So Long” and “Cars Hiss By My Window.”

The title track anchors the disc and finds the group pivoting back toward their more familiar sound to fantastic effect. Unlike many bands I’ve reviewed thus far in this little experiment, The Doors knew how to write long songs and keep you involved all the way through. Over the course of nearly eight minutes, “L.A. Woman” continues to add layer upon layer of sound and instrumentation as it makes dramatic twists and turns while maintaining a common general theme. It’s not until the five-minute mark Morrison starts his “Mr. Mojo risin’” refrain, and he and the band slowly crescendo into the “city of night” climax in the final minute. Wonderful stuff.

The last great track on “L.A. Woman” also is the last on the disc: “Riders on the Storm” is as “Doors” as the Doors get on “L.A. Woman,” and seeing as this would be the last piece of recorded music people would hear from the original band (Morrison died a few months after the album’s release), it’s a fitting way to go out, even if it is a bit over-dramatic.

The downside to this album is the four songs between the title track and “Riders”—there isn’t a breakout cut in the group. “Hyacinth House” has a nice Zeppelin-esque riff (think “Thank You” or “Tangerine”), but “The Wasp (Texas Radio and the Big Beat)” is Morrison at his worst. Overall, though, positives well outweigh the negatives on the swan song for one of rock's indelible groups.

Grade: B+

Favorite Track: “L.A. Woman”

Least Favorite Track: “The Wasp (Texas Radio and the Big Beat)”

‘Wilco Will Love You, Baby’: ‘An Evening with Wilco,’ Live at the Strathmore, 3.30.10

Jeff Tweedy's setlist from Tuesday night's show

The song refrain in the title says it all, really. What more can you ask of a band that advertises a concert as “an evening with …” and then delivers so generously? Three sets plus an encore spanning 37 songs from every Wilco album, plus some side projects thrown in for good measure. They played for three full hours with almost no break—not even stopping to change from electric to acoustic sets!

The setting—beautiful Music Center at Strathmore—was perfect for this kind of endeavor. Tuesday night wasn’t a rock show, necessarily; it was more a refined, purposeful artistic experience. As Pearl Jam learned last year during their epic Spectrum finale, you have to pace yourself on projects of this nature. Wilco’s determined, almost stately demeanor throughout the evening fit the venue and mood of the show perfectly.

The first of three sets featured a long run of excellent choices. “Wilco (the song)” works just as well as a show opener as it does on the album, while the band’s intense performance of “Bull Black Nova” already has me rethinking my final grade of that record. Speaking of, no songs off “Wilco (the album)” were changed for me; the ones I already liked I now like even more, while the ones I didn’t like much still haven’t won me over.

The first eight songs flowed so well, all cut from the same cloth—not too rowdy, but not too soft; an easygoing pace, but never feeling lazy or tossed off. “One Wing” is as good live as I’d hoped, and “At Least That’s What You Said” was particularly impressive Tuesday night in a way it’s never been before; for some reason I was struck by how much the instrumental second half of this song is reminiscent of a tough Zeppelin rocker.

The only misstep of the first set was an ill-timed “Deeper Down,” a momentum killer whose saving grace was watching Nels Cline play two guitars at the same time (one on his lap and one on his shoulder). Sitting fifth row on Cline’s side, I had my best view ever of his work, and it was amazing. He alternately caressed and strangled whatever guitar he happened to be holding at the time, and works in a little sound-effects machine, too. Watching him play from about 20 feet away was without question the best part of the entire experience; on some of his solos, his strum hand moves faster than any human being’s should.

The final four songs of the first set marked one of the best moments of the entire show. There was a notable intensity lift in the band when they lit into the sonic discord of “Via Chicago,” and that carried over into a brilliant version of “Impossible Germany.” “Poor Places” maintained the vibe (Rahm Emanuel was in attendance and walked right past me during this song to use the bathroom—tool) then flowed into its CD trackmate, “Reservations.” At this point, with Wilco still playing the song, the crew brought out lamps, carpets, and new instruments for the band to play during its extended acoustic set at the front of the stage. There was no delay; the guys just moved down from their regular spots, took up new positions and guitars, and went right into a tremendous version of “Spiders (Kidsmoke).”

It’s no secret I don’t much care for “Spiders,” but this version was outstanding—they attacked it the way any good acoustic take should be attacked, and also mercifully cut it in half. If they played “Spiders” like this from now on, I’d look forward to it in every set.

The acoustic portion was worth the price of admission all by itself, particularly for “Kamera” and the side-project twofer of “Someday Some Morning Sometime”/“Laminated Cat.” Nels shone once more on the latter, his left hand dancing up and down the neck of his guitar.

They used “Airline to Heaven” to make the acoustic transition in reverse, starting with mostly just Jeff Tweedy on acoustic out front as the rest of the band reset and the lamps, carpets, etc., were removed. The rest of the guys joined in toward the end for a wonderful kaboom back into the regular show.

Cline got the re-electrified Wilco going immediately with “Ashes of American Flags,” which featured a finale to his song-ending, face-melting solo Tweedy said he’d never heard Cline play before. A decent “Jesus, etc.” singalong followed (the crowd sang the first full two verses, which was a bit of a stretch, but was mostly OK from where I was standing), before Cline strapped on a double-neck guitar for the bouncy “You Never Know” off the new record.

A run of newer rockers followed which didn’t do a whole lot for me, but, as Tweedy said, the band takes requests from the audience and from themselves, and “Handshake Drugs” is a song they like to play, for some reason. To each his own. The third set closed on a high note with “I’m the Man Who Loves You” leading into a great cover of Big Star’s “Thank You Friends” in honor of recently departed Alex Chilton.

At this point they left the stage and I figured for good, but … no, the crew was out there tightening cymbals and checking guitars, so amazingly they still had a little more to do. As Tweedy remarked early on, the motto for these shows is “leave ’em wanting less.” Well, no chance of that happening, but we certainly got our money’s worth. The first song was an audible, “Box Full of Letters”; some moron back in the balcony had been screaming for it all night, so Tweedy said he hoped the guy had left already and found out about it after the fact. Jeff was in good spirits all night—funny, self-deprecating, and just a teeny bit cantankerous, which he always kinda is.

“Hoodoo Voodoo” was next, featuring fantastic dueling guitar solos from Cline and Pat Sansone, and then they finally wrapped with “I’m A Wheel”—not one of my favorites, but it was an appropriate choice for such a high-energy encore.

Wilco tours relentlessly, so I love how they try and mix it up every year. “An Evening with Wilco” was a great idea and made for a wonderful and unique experience that set it apart from other times I’ve seen them. The format allowed them to stretch and try new things, like the acoustic set, that probably wouldn’t work in a shorter show, or one set in, say, the 9:30 Club. There were different expectations for a concert of this type, and the band easily lived up to them.

What a great night.

Wilco

Music Center at Strathmore

North Bethesda, MD

3.30.10

FIRST SET

Wilco (the song)

Bull Black Nova

You Are My Face

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart

One Wing

Shot in the Arm

At Least That’s What You Said

Nothingsevergonnastandinmyway (Again)

Deeper Down

Via Chicago

Impossible Germany

Poor Places

Reservations

ACOUSTIC SET

Spiders (Kidsmoke)

When the Roses Bloom Again

Forget the Flowers

California Stars

You and I

Kamera

Someday Some Morning Sometime

Laminated Cat

When You Wake Up Feeling Old

Passenger Side

Airline to Heaven

THIRD SET

Ashes of American Flags

Jesus, etc.

You Never Know

Handshake Drugs

Theologians

Heavy Metal Drummer

Hate It Here

Walken

I’m the Man Who Loves You

Thank You Friends (Big Star cover)

ENCORE

Box Full of Letters

Hoodoo Voodoo

I’m A Wheel

Show Time: 3 hours

CD of the Day: ‘Use Your Illusion 1.5,’ Guns N’ Roses (1991)

After listening to both “Use Your Illusion” CDs repeatedly, I’ve come up with a tracklist that would have made for an excellent follow-up to “Appetite for Destruction.” Nothing was ever going to compare to that classic, but had GN’R managed to rein themselves in, the results as demonstrated here would have at least been a worthy successor.

It says a lot, though, that I could only bring myself to include 13 of the two-disc set’s 30 tracks—and even a few of these are pushing it. Anyway, here’s my “Use Your Illusion 1.5”:

Right Next Door to Hell

Perfect Crime

You Could Be Mine

Yesterdays

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door

Estranged

Dust N’ Bones

Live and Let Die

Don’t Cry (Original)

November Rain

Bad Apples

Dead Horse

You Ain’t the First

The first three tracks rocket out of the gate and flow together very well as a strong take-no-prisoners statement. Then the next three start to open things up a bit more, treading the line between ballad and straight rock that GN'R do so well.

“Dust N’ Bones” is an oddball change of pace, serving as an interlude before the album enters the next—and best—three-pack of the disc. You can’t do much better than “Live and Let Die,” “Don’t Cry,” and “November Rain” back-to-back-to-back. A series of this magnitude this far back in the set would have pulled people through, giving all the tracks that came before additional import.

The final three make up a group of solid and varied, if unspectacular, tracks to come down off of the previous trifecta. These represent well the band's turn toward the blues for the "Use Your Illusion" sessions, and weird songs like “You Ain’t the First” often work best as an album coda.

Ah, what could have been. I guess that’s what iPods are for.

Grade: A-

Favorite Track: “Live and Let Die”

Least Favorite Track: “Dust N’ Bones”

CD of the Day: ‘Use Your Illusion II,’ Guns N’ Roses (1991)

If “Use Your Illusion I” qualifies as mediocre, then “Illusion II” is just plain bad. Only four of the 14 tracks are worth going back for (I’m discarding the “Don’t Cry” repeat).

“You Could Be Mine,” the single from “Terminator 2,” leads the way and can hold its own against the band’s best work; “Yesterdays” is more than satisfactory, even if it feels a bit like a “Sweet Child O’ Mine” retread; “Estranged” is overlong but is carried through by an outstanding core riff; and “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” is another excellent cover choice from this set.

The rest ranges from barely passable—extended jams “Locomotive” and “Breakdown”—to forgettable. Axl Rose’s lyrics are particularly terrible on this record, whether it’s the sap of “14 Years” and “So Fine” or the inane political rants of “Civil War” and “Get in the Ring.” Compare the latter’s “commentary” on the media to Eddie Vedder’s far superior work on 1993’s “Blood” if you want clear evidence of just how bad some of this crap is.

On second thought, don’t.

Grade: D+

Favorite Track: “You Could Be Mine”

Least Favorite Track: “My World”