The recordings cut at Memphis’ Sun Studios remain a cornerstone of modern music, which is why the stuff has been reliably reissued across the second half of the 20th century and into the current moment. The latest round of vinyl platters comes courtesy of Org Music, their picks offering well-assembled overviews of two giants in the Sun narrative, namely Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash, and then teaming them with a pair of inspired choices, one a compilation reinforcing the influence of Hank Williams on Sam Phillips’ rockabilly brigade, the other the often-overlooked debut LP by the young Roy Orbison. All are out now, some with limited color editions found only at participating indie retailers; the red wax version of the Williams covers comp is a Barnes & Noble exclusive.
So much has already been said regarding the explosion of creativity documented by Sam Phillips that writing up Org Music’s fresh batch of Sun reissues is more than a little daunting. As a long-established portion of the rock ‘n’ roll bedrock, better minds than I have soaked up the Sun experience and then expanded upon its essence with eloquence.
By extension, there has been a certifiably massive amount of retrospective attention paid to the work captured by Phillips, with a sizable percentage of the releases mediocre or shoddy in a manner that suggests purely mercantile interest. Yes, the wildness of the music shines through, but the effect can be a bit like watching Frank Tashlin’s The Girl Can’t Help It on a 40-year old budget-line 10-inch TV set (or iPhone).
It’s true that two of Org’s most recent dip into the Sun catalog are straight reissues, but the look and sound is terrific, and all four would provide a fine introduction for the curious newcomer. And hey, don’t let the title of the Perkins’ set insinuate that it’s a mere cherry-pick of the guy’s most well-known tunes; through 14 numbers, Best of the Sun Records Sessions makes a really cogent argument for Perkins as the most stylistically diverse of the rockabilly cats briefly corralled by Phillips.
Sure, “Blue Suede Shoes” is here. How could it not be? But it’s track six on side one; before it, there is a sturdy hunk of Berry adulation in “Roll Over Beethoven,” an unabashedly countrified slab of home state boosterism in “Tennessee,” and a truly superb opening plunge into The Platters’ vocal group classic “Only You.” Directly prior to Perkins’ most celebrated song, “Lonely Street” delivers a prime dose of heartache with some cool if muffled sax gruffness, and the side closes with an even deeper dip into the country well via the fiddle-laden “Turn Around.”
Don’t get the idea that Perkins’ rockabilly side is given short shrift; there’s “All Mama’s Children,” the spirited and full-bodied “Put Your Cat Clothes On” (with Jerry Lee Lewis on piano), the slap bass-fueled oomph of “Gone Gone Gone,” and the zonked mania of “Dixie Fried.” But “I’m Sorry I’m Not Sorry” and especially side two’s finale “Forever Your” shed deeper light on his abilities at transforming lovelorn crooners stuff, “You Can’t Make Love to Somebody” subtly accents the country in the ‘billy template, and “Glad All Over” underscores his songwriting ability.
Most of the full-lengths in Perkins discography are comps, but Best of the Sun Records Sessions hangs with the strongest of them as it sets up a sharp contrast with Johnny Cash’s Greatest! Released by Phillips after Cash had left for Columbia, it rounds up sessions from between July ’55 and July ’58 and is noted for consistency of quality, but more importantly, the early cohesiveness of what’s now known as the Johnny Cash sound.
With Perkins, range is a valuable attribute, but for Cash every song he tackled, whether his own (there are four on Greatest!) or borrowed from others (the remaining eight) gets adapted into a signature approach that’s not rockabilly or straight rock ‘n’ roll, nor Nashville or honkytonk, but ultimately its own thing. Obviously much of this comes down to the deep, instantly recognizable timbre of voice, but just as crucial is the instrumental interplay of Cash and the Tennessee Two (that’s guitarist Luther Perkins and bassist Marshall Grant).
It didn’t take Phillips long to adorn this framework, often with piano, drums and percussion, and far less appealingly with backing vocals, but at least at this stage that boom-chicka-boom freight train sound (which eventually added a drummer to become the Tennessee Three) cuts constant mustard. This somewhat weakens the point of singling out individual tracks, though there are variations in the scheme, e.g. the country verve of “Goodbye Little Darlin’ Goodbye,” the stripped down “Luther Played the Boogie,” the lean and sprightly “Katy Too,” and the smash hit “Get Rhythm.”
Perhaps more enlightening is the observation that even at this early stage, Cash was adept at making a wide swath of material his own, with Greatest! featuring one by Gene Autry, two by Charlie Rich, and three by Hank Williams. “I Could Never Be Ashamed of You” is carried over to Sun Records Does Hank Williams, where it’s joined by a fourth solid Williams cover, “I Can’t Help It” (the four were initially packaged on a 1958 EP).
But as retrospectively conceived thematic various artists comps go, Sun Records Does Hank Williams holds up well, which is to be expected given the source material and contributors; along with Cash, fellow Million Dollar Quartet member Jerry Lee Lewis is on board for two cuts, “Setting the Woods on Fire” and a superb “You Win Again,” both foreshadowing his long and still underappreciated C&W period.
Sun obsessives will likely be familiar with all the names here, which alongside Cash and Lewis’ enduring stardom includes ‘billy faves Sonny Burgess (the robust “My Bucket’s Got a Hole in It”) and Warren Smith (the unflaggingly sharp “Dear John”) and offers a handful of lesser known names in Carl Mann (the somewhat urbane “Take These Chains from My Heart”), Eddie Bond (the flowing C&W of “I Saw the Light”), and Roland Janes (the sax-infused rock ‘n’ rolled-out “Hey Good Lookin’”).
Naturally, there are a few tasty obscurities, such as Carl McVoy (the Jerry Lee goes to New Orleans swagger of “There’ll be No Teardrops Tonight”) and Cliff Gleaves (the additionally Killer-like “Your Cheatin’ Heart”), but maybe the sweetest is Barbara Pittman’s closing transformation of “Cold, Cold Heart” into stripped-down ’50s pop. Heard separately, much of Sun Records Does Hank Williams is solid if not especially revelatory, but taken together it makes a strong case for the country ingredient in the early rock ‘n’ roll stew, a point that’s only sharpened in tandem with the Cash and Perkins LPs.
So, what about Roy? Well, like Cash’s record here, At the Rock House was released by Sun after Orbison had moved on to success with the Monument label, collecting sessions made for Phillips between ’56 and ’58. It wasn’t conceived as a full-length, but few rock ‘n’ roll long players of the period were, and Orbison’s debut not only holds together well, it provides an at-times fascinating look at an artist, who even at this early stage, was transitioning away from scrappiness toward the vocal grandeur that has secured his stature.
Almost immediately so; rockabilly hardliners will of course be partial to “Rock House,” the Cash-written “You’re My Baby,” “Mean Little Mama,” “Problem Child,” and maybe the highest profile of the man’s Sun cuts “Ooby Dooby,” but hey, that song was notably the B-side for the “Tryin’ to Get to You” single, which the Orbison-led Teen Kings waxed for the Texas-based Je-Wel label prior to hooking up with Phillips.
“Tryin’ to Get to You” is a little gem portending Roy’s later development, as is the opener “This Kind of Love” and the relatively rocking “You’re Gonna Cry,” while “Devil Doll” and “It’s Too Late” are undiluted teen sock hop slow dance/ make out lubricant. “I Never Knew” and “Sweet and Easy to Love” swing the emphasis toward pop over R&R, but don’t get the idea that At the Rock House is the dispensable entry in this group. To the contrary, it’s a fully satisfying portrait of future greatness that broadens the scope of Phillips’ already impressive endeavors.
Carl Perkins,
Best of the Sun Records Sessions
A
Johnny Cash,
Greatest!
A-
V/A,
Sun Records Does Hank Williams
A-
Roy Orbison,
At the Rock House
A-
