I’m not one to usually care when a celebrity bites it. Hell, I’m usually rooting for disease and accident to thin the ranks of the entertainment world’s cadaverous communist geezer class. Because, deep down, I’m not a very nice person, I tend to chuckle at news of washed up old codgers’ passing.

However, sometimes there’s an entertainer with real talent, someone worthy of praise and celebration. A character who should be fondly remembered by one and all. Johnny Cash was such a person. He was an icon -- a true stand-out of twentieth century culture.

For a lot of kids my age, growing up long after Cash’s mass-popularity had ended, discovering the Man In Black was a rare late-adolescent treat (discovered hand-in-hand with alcohol, nicotine, and fast women, of course). He kept producing quality music all through his life, from his early days during the heyday of rockabilly at Sun records, to the Rick Rubin produced American recordings in his twilight.

His cover of Nine Inch Nail's Hurt just won an MTV Video award for cinemetography, and it should have won all six it was nominated for (despite the opinion of some silly young Goth punks). It stands as cash’s wrenching goodbye to the world.

The man will be missed by all who love good music.

(For more coherent tributes, see the Blogcritics roundup)