Wanda Jackson "Shakin' All Over"

The last decade and a half have seen some notable, and nice, comebacks of aging genre icons via a younger, savvy, and generally unmeddlesome supporter/producer.

The template for this, of course, the the Rick Rubin produced Johnny Cash "American" series.

Pre-Rubin, Cash had been dismissed and relegated to the "ignored old guy" status. But Rubin knew that Cash still had power, and spurred Johnny on to create these great albums. Most remarkably, the records are pretty devoid of any kind of producer "stamp." If you had received the record without any liner notes, there would be virtually no way to tell that this was a Rick Rubin-produced record.

And that's a good thing, because it cleared away all the brush, put the man and his voice up front and reminded you that Johnny Cash was amazing.

Numerous records have been made since under this model. And they have been fun to champion, because you felt like you were supporting a worthy underdog.

Solomon Burke made an amazing comeback record with Joe Henry. And Henry did what no other producer had been able to do in nearly 40 years---get folks to pay attention to the bursting supernova that is Bettye Lavette. Rubin had less commercial success with his Neil Diamond record, but it was still an artistic step forward for Neil. And though Mavis Staples has made solid records in the last decade, her collaboration with Jeff Tweedy of Wilco seems to have made the most hay of her considerable talent.

Perhaps the most intriguing of the bunch, was the Loretta Lynn/Jack White project.

It was the first real indication that White wasn't just an indie-rock guitar guy---he was a restless listener and experiencer with a wide range of taste and knowledge. And while they didn't seem like an obvious match, one listen to "Van Lear Rose" and it became obvious that they were making better records through chemistry.

I mention all these records, because they were my first real entree to each of the aforementioned artists. And a large part of the reason I turned up to listen in the first place, was because I am a fan of the aforementioned producers.

All that, to get to this: When the new Wanda Jackson record came in the mail, before I listened to it, I put it into my laptop's iTunes. That is to say, I was pretty sure I was going to enjoy it, simply based on historical precedence.

It seemed great on paper.

And if you check out the video below, you'll see that White is clearly in control. The band is absolutely smoking.

But . . . I dunno. I'm not sold on Wanda Jackson here.

I feel mean even saying that.

She's a legend. She's an icon. And at 73, it's fucking amazing that she's fronting a band of any kind.

But the other examples I cited . . . Johnny Cash, Bettye Lavette, Solomon Burke, Mavis Staples, Loretta Lynn . . . they all seemed to retain their power, and their listen-ability, in their comeback. Stripped of any band of studio aces, they could still kill it. Check out low key numbers like Burke's "Fast Train" or Lavette's version of "Isn't It A Pity."

But Ms. Jackson . . . her voice hasn't aged the same way. It didn't gain gravity. And unfortunately, it seems to be the weakest element of the record.

Low expectations and high expectations.

I wonder if part of the success of the relaunch of Johnny Cash and Mavis Staples and the others had to do with the fact that little was expected of them at this point. There was no reason to think that they could do what they used to do.

But now I have this expectation that a great performer can actually become greater with age. And if they don't it's a disappointment.

Is that fair? No.

Is it rude? Well, no. But it feels rude.

Because if I go on Letterman in my white fringe jacket at age 73 and sing my damn heart out, and some punk blogger poo-pooed my performance. I'd want to kick him in the teeth until he had to wear dentures, too.



For a taste of what she used to sound like . . .