O.C. POP MUSIC REVIEWS : Cash Flies Flag at Celebrity : Singer’s Anaheim Show Talks Patriotism, Not Jingoism

Patriotism is usually the last refuge of the country singer desperate for easy applause.

If the lovelorn ballads aren’t hitting the crowd in the heart and the stomping numbers aren’t getting them in the gut, well, fly the flag a little and you’ll get a salute in return.

Johnny Cash flew the flag Saturday night at the Celebrity Theatre. The Stars and Stripes were literally hoisted beside the rotating stage while Cash intoned a patriotic poem called “Ragged Old Flag.”

That emphasis on the “ragged” helped Cash’s patriotic moment come out all right.

One of pop music’s biggest statement in support of the Gulf War has been the ridiculously jingoistic “Damn Yankees” in which Ted Nugent and his new group, Damn Yankees, crow about all the foreign butt that swaggering Americans, be they rockers or soldiers, are going to kick if they’re not accorded proper respect.

“Ragged Old Flag” was different. It’s a sober number, originally released by Cash in 1974, at a time when Watergate had shaken the country and the futility of the Vietnam War had become manifest to everyone.

Cash’s narration, set to soft musical accompaniment, was no shrill trumpet blast of patriotic frenzy, but an acknowledgment that patriotism carries a cost. The verses depicted an emblematic banner torn and tattered by every American conflict from the Revolution on down, each one leaving it a bit more worn and bloodstained. Real patriotism, the song implied, is measured by the times that try men’s souls, not by the ones that swell their chests with easy self-congratulation. Nothing cheap about that, and the near-capacity house responded with a standing ovation for the song, which Cash had dedicated with a prayer for the Desert Storm soldiers and their families.

While Cash doesn’t have quite the symbolic stature of Old Glory, he is an icon in pop music--and one not unlike that ragged old flag. At 58, both his voice and his visage are rugged and proud, but also worn and weathered. That worn quality makes all the difference. Cash’s deep baritone voice and dramatic delivery could, without proper tempering, make his obvious qualities of gravity and masculine strength overbearing, an expression of plain bravado. But his singing is tempered, and always has been, by hard experience. What comes through in Cash’s voice is not triumph, but a hard fight to endure weariness and difficulty.

That side of Cash came through effectively in the 35 minutes or so that led up to “Ragged Old Flag.”

Cash opened with his best punches, giving alert, engaged renditions of two signature songs, “Ring of Fire” and “Folsom Prison Blues,” that were guaranteed to win the audience. He proceeded to cover some of the core verities of country music: the Land (a well-executed suite of songs about rural life), and the Lord (two numbers from his upcoming album, one depicting Jesus as a cowboy, the other, “Going by the Book,” a vision of a biblical final conflict starting in the Middle East. The latter song was more interesting for its rocking musical attack than for its theology or its topical references). The two religious songs etched a suitably serious mood leading up to “Ragged Old Flag.”

After that, Cash was content to let his show, which totaled more than two hours, unfold in an easygoing, folksy flow. June Carter Cash appeared and showed her good comic instincts, engaging her husband in some crustily affectionate repartee that was a little hokey, but also charming. They probably crack the same jokes night after night, but still a sense of family closeness and enjoyment came across. Son John Carter Cash, 20, was also on hand--even larger than his imposing father in size, but somewhat thin of voice, as he played a short opening set and joined in a closing round of gospel songs.

More than a comic foil for the Man in Black, June Carter and her sisters Anita and Helen (collectively the Carter Family) provided a much-needed broadening of the show’s musical palette. Sweet singing is not Johnny Cash’s forte (as his wife pointed out by referring to him jokingly as “old golden throat”). The sisters’ 35-minute segment filled that lack. Their set of old-time standards was an acoustic delight of sharp close-harmony singing and strong solo vocalizing, especially when Anita Carter stepped forward with her pure, presence-filled voice. An old friend, Larry Gatlin, stepped in to lend a capable voice to one of the evening’s many countrified spirituals.

Cash’s four-man backing band was keyed by Earl Ball’s light, teasing touch on piano, and Kerry Marks’ precise, flexible guitar work. The musicians’ investment in the show went beyond just getting their parts right, as they flashed grins and made regular eye contact with each other.