Cash Still Stokes the Creative Fires

You can call it an act of faith or simply denial, but Johnny Cash refused to accept the diagnosis in 1997 that he was suffering from a rare, life-threatening neurological disorder. And it now appears his doctors agree.

“Shy . . . Drager’s . . . syndrome,” Cash says disdainfully, drawing out the words that have hung over him like a death sentence for two years and caused even close friends to wonder if the country music giant would ever make another album.

“The first time I heard those words was when I went into the hospital deathly ill with pneumonia in 1997,” says the 68-year-old singer during an interview while here on business with his wife, June Carter Cash, and their son, John Carter Cash.

“June told the doctors right away that I’d never accept a nasty-sounding disease like that. She said I’d fight it and win, and she started praying right there. We both did. And now, I’ve not only finished that new album, I’m ready to start on the next one.”

Cash, a private and deeply religious man, said doctors told him last November that he had been misdiagnosed and didn’t have the disease. It didn’t occur to him to announce it publicly because he had never accepted the diagnosis.

That doesn’t mean that the last three years have been physically easy for Cash, a member of both the country music and the rock halls of fame.

The deep-voiced singer, whose more than 100 country hits include “Folsom Prison Blues” and “Ring of Fire,” has been hospitalized several times for pneumonia, once spending nearly two weeks in a coma. He also feels frequent pain from a broken jawbone and subsequent infection he suffered years ago. Its accompanying nerve damage causes swelling in his face. Cash also has a diabetes-related ailment that requires monitoring.

Still, he found the energy over the last year to record “American III: Solitary Man,” with Los Angeles record producer Rick Rubin.

The team’s last two albums, 1994’s “American Recordings” and 1996’s “Uncaged,” won Grammys for best contemporary folk album and best country album, respectively.

The new collection, due in stores next Tuesday, is another superior work that could also be a Grammy contender. Drawing smartly on Cash’s folk, country, rock and gospel roots, the album mixes Cash compositions with such diverse outside material as Tom Petty’s resolute “I Won’t Back Down,” Will Oldham’s darkly introspective “I See a Darkness,” Nick Cave’s gothic “The Mercy Seat” and Egbert Williams’ humorous “Nobody.”

But given Cash’s uncertain health status, the most haunting track is the closing number, “Wayfaring Stranger.” The gospel song begins, “I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger, travelin’ through this world below/There is no sickness, no toil, nor danger/In the bright land to which I go.”

Cash shrugs when asked if it was once intended as a farewell statement.

“I’ve always enjoyed gospel music,” he says. “That’s part of me. I never saw this as my last record. I’m a more positive person than that. Some people thought I might throw a party after I got the news, but my party is just living each day and enjoying it.”

Man in Black, Back With Columbia

Cash, wearing his trademark black shirt and black pants, is in good spirits as he joins some Columbia Records executives for breakfast in the restaurant of an upscale Manhattan hotel.

They’re here to welcome him back to Columbia, which now distributes Rubin’s American Records label. And, one senses, it’s also their chance to meet a hero. They delight especially in his stories about his early days on Sam Phillips’ Sun Records with Elvis Presley and Carl Perkins.

Cash switched to the larger Columbia in 1958 for more money and greater artistic freedom. He tells the executives that he also thought he would get more personal attention at Columbia.

“I love Sam but he kind of took us for granted after he sold Elvis’ contract to RCA,” Cash says. “He looked up every time the door opened to see if the next Elvis had walked in. The thing Carl and I kept telling him was there isn’t another Elvis coming. We played all these shows with Elvis and we saw what he could do.”

Cash used his freedom and attention at Columbia to make some of the most innovative and influential recordings of the modern pop era--songs that often addressed working-class struggle and aspirations.

Born in rural Arkansas during the Depression, Cash knew hard times. His father worked in sawmills and as a cotton farmer, barely making enough to support his large family.

Even after Cash became a star, his music continued to have more commentary and dimension than most of the honky-tonk tales that competed with him on the charts. His music demonstrated an artistic integrity that would influence everyone from Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen to U2.

That’s why much of the pop-rock industry was shocked in 1986 when Columbia’s Nashville division dropped Cash because his sales had slipped in a time of younger artists and a more polished pop-country sound.

Cash subsequently signed with Mercury, but the relationship didn’t prove fruitful. Cash was disillusioned with the record business when he was approached in 1993 by Rubin, who wanted to sign him to his then Warner Bros.-affiliated label.

It seemed like a strange combination. Rubin was best-known for producing such rock and rap acts as the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the Beastie Boys and Slayer.

But Rubin had also worked with more mainstream rock acts, such as Tom Petty, and he had an unfailing respect for vital artistry. He convinced Cash that he was the one who could help him reestablish himself as a viable force.

And the pairing worked. Besides winning Grammys, their two albums each sold about 500,000 copies--five to 10 times more than some of Cash’s ‘80s packages registered.

Rubin and Cash were just about ready to start on their third album when Cash fell onstage as he tried to pick up a guitar pick during an October 1997 concert in Flint, Mich.

It wasn’t long before doctors told Cash he had Shy-Drager’s syndrome, which causes progressive failure of the nervous system. He was told he might have only a year to live.

Finding the Energy to Record New Album

As soon as Cash got out of the hospital in 1997, he was eager to begin work on “Solitary Man.” His body, however, was too weak and he had to spend several months resting at his home near Nashville and his retreat in Jamaica.

Rubin, in a separate interview, says doctors warned him to take things slowly. “They said you can’t allow him to work too much because his ‘will’ will make him work more than his body is prepared to handle.”

Cash began preliminary work on the new album in 1998 with his son, guitarist John Carter Cash, in his home studio. But he had only enough energy some days to try only one or two vocals.

“When he was laying in the bed in the ICU in 1997 doctors weren’t that hopeful,” his son says, sitting with his father after the breakfast meeting. “It was a scary time, but in my heart I didn’t think he was going to die.

“This man has the most amazing resilience. I never lost faith that he would be able to make a record he would be proud of.”

Eventually, Rubin stepped in and began the formal recording process.

“I thought we would turn up with something,” Rubin says. “But I didn’t know if he’d be able to give 100%. There were times we’d get set to record and we’d have to cancel.

“Then about seven or eight months ago something happened and he started getting better and better. He has such presence as an artist and through it all he was still able to deliver that presence on record. It was amazing to watch him.”

Besides the new album, Cash and Rubin are thinking about putting out a boxed set of the American albums plus a full disc of outtakes. Cash estimates that he has recorded parts or all of 100 songs with Rubin over the last decade.

Don’t look, however, for Cash to tour again. He may do an occasional TV appearance--such as the 1999 concert in which Dylan, Springsteen, U2’s Bono, Wyclef Jean, Lyle Lovett and others paid tribute to him. But he has no desire to spend weeks on the road, even if his health permitted.

“I really enjoyed that tribute show, but that night I knew I’d had enough performing,” he says. “June and I have been on the road so long and we’re so tired. It’s time we did some of the other things we’ve wanted to do in our lives.”

He also wants to take the energy that he put into his touring and apply it to his songwriting.

“I know everyone will say I’ve got be out of my skull, but I feel like my recording career has just begun,” he says.

“You know, my dreams and ambitions after all these years are pretty much the same as they were at the beginning. I still just want to make records and sing on the radio. After I finally got on the radio I just wanted to make better records and that’s still what I want to do.”