His image as a stern preacher rather than a rebellious, on-the-side-of-criminals charmer, just doesn’t work. Johnny Cash tries to stare down those who pick up Hymns from the Heart from his outdoor pulpit, staring down the congregation of one – you, the listener. He has the love of the Lord to lay down, and nothing can stop the future Man in Black from doing so on this 1962 release. Cash had dabbled in hymn covers before and they weren’t all that convincing. Not just because the songs are hammy, cliché-riddled fodder, but because Cash could add that religious flourish to his own works, where it would serve a less obvious point. There it would be used as the backbone to a story of morally dubious actions, the light for even the darkest of moments. Without the story to pair it with, the life lessons learned and reflected on with the addition of Cash’s moral compass, it becomes a withering collection of oddly soulless traipses through religious material.
Hymns from the Heart, even at under a half hour, is a struggle. Not because of the religious context, but because of how limited Cash makes it sound. He had the style for both his vocals and instrumental work in place already, so how he fails to select suitable songs for such a style is still, truly, puzzling. Where the later days of Cash in the studio would be heavily reliant on cover work, it was more about adapting unlikely songs into the cool, quiet world of contemporary acoustic music. Hymns are a different ball game for Cash, whose rapid-fire recording style during the late 1950s and 1960s mean there’s little time to get to grips with a song, and even less time to develop it beyond a straight and sluggish adaptation. Cash would record hundreds of covers in his lifetime, and the early years, the pre-At Folsom Prison days are no exception. There are moments of interest to Hymns from the Heart, that much is clear.
Opening track He’ll Understand and Say Well Done has the flexibility to be turned into a tale of parental approval or nods of encouragement from those we idolise. More on-the-nose material to come from that, and it’s this clarity which serves neither Cash nor listener all that well. God Must Have My Fortune Laid Away is the plodding storytelling of gospel music from the times, and it’s startling to hear Cash has no desire to adapt or change it. The lead trouble is Cash identifies himself in these songs, is strong enough to write on from them, but doesn’t. These covers sound hastily put together, playing on the expected tone of the genre. Backing vocals, heavenly-like echoes paired with the trail song fundamentals of Cash’s greatest hits, it’s not as charming as it should be.
Some of the songs sound chirpy and at the time had honest intent, but the cultural landscape has changed. There are few highlights to be found within Hymns from the Heart, a relatively static album, but take note of Cash suggesting death is a mere holiday on When I Take My Vacation in Heaven. What is striking, though, is that despite Cash’s encounters with death in his personal life, he never sounds all that committed to laying down a heartfelt tone. Later songs like When He Reached Down His Hand for Me and I Won’t Have to Cross Jordan Alone are chances, once again, for Cash to do this. He never takes it, either because he doesn’t want to infer anything but the word of God or because he dares not place anything else in the songs. Whatever the case, a very weak effort.
