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It was the day after a ferocious terrorist attack on a train in Spain. It was the day a train derailed in Bakersfield, California, leaving a few bumps and bruises on passengers but no serious medical threats or fatalities. When Josh Turner's "Long Black Train" slowly chugged up to the station, it was right on track and greeted with much anticipation. It was one of the slowest trains to ever climb the charts, taking over 40 weeks to finally reach number 13, which may or may not end up being its final destination. In any case, taking that long to reach the high end of the charts translates into amazing staying power.

The arrival of the song "Long Black Train" on radio represented a resurrection of the pure country sound of such seminal artists as Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, and Buck Owens. Hence, Turner's been all of the chatter among country music business moguls. Every record company wished they would have signed him.

What Turner proved the night he performed at the Crystal Palace was that he's got what it takes to be much more than a one-hit wonder. A number of factors conspire to create the impression that he has as good a shot as any to be the next big thing in country music. First, he has an infectious, rich, Cashesque baritone voice (which comes complete with a full dynamic range). Second, he possesses a refreshing sense of lost innocence, youthful charm and vulnerability. These qualities were abundantly expressed in "Backwoods Boy," a song that is reflective of his childhood upbringing in South Carolina, and again in "My Favorite Things," which just happen to include, "mama," "God," and--you guessed it--"trains." It is not the sort of apron-strings-clinging innocence of which American existential psychologist Rollo May referred. May's sort-of innocence is devoid of the will or the drive that comes with an age-appropriate level of maturity and individuation. Turner's innocence is one that has clearly been weathered by the storm of reality but has not capitulated under its merciless throes. Third, Turner demonstrates an undying loyalty to his roots and is graciously imbued with a deep sense of devotion to country tradition. Finally, Josh Turner possesses the unmistakable ability to write engaging, values-oriented, story-telling songs and to deliver them with poignancy, urgency, and candid sincerity.

He was backed by only one man-acoustic lead guitar player, Clint Chantler. There was a spirited chemistry between the two of them, and it was easy to tell that they were having a great time jamming together. As a heart-felt tribute to the legendary Johnny Cash, the artist who most heavily influenced him, Josh opened the set with Folsom Prison Blues. http://www.tollbooth.org/2003/features/jcash.html

This song selection also allowed an avenue of expression for the rebellious side of Turner that, to some degree, he has vicariously experienced through the life and music of Cash.

Unlike a teen-age rebel without a cause, however, Turner's rebellious side is consistently held in check. In his music, in songs like "I Need a Good Woman Bad" (reportedly to be featured in a forthcoming movie starring Robert Redford and J. Lo), there lies a burning desire and a demand for freedom, but such a demand appears to be complimented and tempered by a deep sense of responsibility and commitment to his mentors and his fans.

Though he wasn't trying to copy or emulate Cash's voice, the mark Cash left on Turner (in terms of style, attitude, and vocal nuances), was undeniable and palpable and is indelible--not only in the opening number, but in songs Turner delivered throughout his entire performance.

A lot of what I refer to as "first decade" country music has fallen victim to what I call "the sycophantic syrup syndrome." This has to do with an over-eagerness among up-and-coming stars to waffle around while serving up their CDs like pancakes, sickeningly smothered in sticky, syrup applied generously in hopes that it will please all of the people, all of the time, most notably, record company executives. I call it a pancake circus, a name I borrow from a breakfast nook on Broadway Avenue in Sacramento, California. This pancake circus has become the arena for all that is ordinary. "Waiters" and "waitresses" at this "pancake circus" find the idea of taking responsible risks too threatening, so they head for the shelter of conformity.

My observation of Turner at the Palace made it clear that Turner knew how to embrace tradition and pay tribute to it without being trapped in it and enslaved by it. Turner reveres tradition, but merely uses it as a springboard or a foundation upon which to build a house outside the box, one that is every bit as creative as it is authentic.

Turner's authenticity was apparent, not only in his lyrics and the deft delivery of his songs, but in the personality that shone through on the stage. He made a rare admission of being nervous. Ironically enough, at least from an existentialist perspective, an admission of fear is an expression of courage.

He avoided the all-too-typical pseudo-country outlaw act involving distancing himself from expressions of genuine commitment and intimacy. He avoided intimacy avoidance by introducing his wife to the audience and singing "In My Dreams," a song he wrote especially for her. Narcissistic love, expressed in the mythological character of Cupid, and meant to embody the Greek form of love known as eros, is all too common and ordinary among artists of all genres. The type of love Turner sings about is more like agape--grounded in God and warmly extending out to friends, family and other kindred spirits.

When renowned psychologist Erich Fromm spoke of love, in his classic book The Art of Love, he was referring to the type of unselfish union that is evident in the main hook of Turner's heartfelt tribute to his wife--"In my dreams, your dreams come true." Turner seems to be in the process of mastering Fromm's "Art of Loving," for when one analyzes the meaning of the songs, one is left with the distinct impression that Turner is a master at balancing will and love--determination and devotion. The tension between will and love and between determination and devotion is resolved is resolved through a subjugating of the human will for the divine will. This process of surrender and humble yielding is most vividly depicted in "Long Black Train."

That takes us right back to where we started, to the station. Turner took the crowd back to the song that sparked such a furor of excitement when he debuted it at Carnegie Hall, but not before singing another classic, the song from the very first single he ever released--"She'll Go on You." It is a sorrowful song of anticipated loss. It expresses the ontological anxiety associated with death and dying in ways more poignant and powerful than any existential philosopher or psychologist ever could. The best part of the song is that it tells a story that teaches us all to appreciate our loved ones while their still around to be appreciated. The song was not only written by Josh Turner. It was Josh Turner. Even while Long Black Train is chugging up the charts, I keep waiting at the station with bated breath for his next visit to the Crystal Palace. But in the meantime, I'm going to treasure every song he's blessed us with so far. But not only his songs--his God-fearing-people-loving personality. When God took his only son, he left behind his spirit, "The Comforter." God also leaves us with mortal gifts when we experience mortal losses. First God took June Carter Cash. Then, on September 12, 2003, God took Johnny. When He took Johnny, he left Josh. Josh Turner is God's gift to country music. I'd advice you to treasure Josh, for one day he'll grow on you, and then, he too will "go on you."