It's easy, nay understandable, to be cynical about Johnny Cash's motives for going in to California's notorious Folsom Prison on January 13th 1968. His career had been on a downward spiral for many years, yet the controversy and publicity that inevitably followed this performance relaunched his career at a stroke. But that cynicism would be to misunderstand the man, the connection with his audience and, most importantly, just how seminal a performance this was.

This newly released version contains two CDs worth of material plus a DVD containing a documentary of the day's events. It features both of the sets Cash played on the day, plus tracks by the support acts. Perhaps more prescient than any of the Carl Perkins and Statler Brothers tunes are the words of the compere, Hugh Cherry, that kick off the proceedings, telling the prisoners that they are 'a very important part of the album.' He's not wrong, as Cash feeds off the kinship he feels, both real and imagined, playing up to his own outlaw image with the audience bringing out the dark showman in him. Though he never actually served any significant time himself, the death of his brother and time in the Armed Forces gave an undeniable authenticity to his dark, empathetic lyrics, which when backed by that inimitable brooding voice made it sound like he knew exactly what the prisoners were going through.

Because of that, rather than emitting any anxiety, Cash seems utterly at ease, whether almost breaking down with laughter during 'Dark as a Dungeon' or performing a song written by one of the inmates (the quite brilliant 'Greystone Chapel'). Though it's slightly disconcerting to hear the crowd whoop to each politically incorrect lyric (see 'Cocaine Blues'), as well as Cash himself seemingly revelling in singing them, this only adds to the edginess.

In some ways, though completists will lap up having every moment of both Folsom sets, this new version lacks something of the short sharp intensity of the original sixteen track version. It's basically two near identical sets, and of the previously unreleased tunes, only the raucous cover of Ray Charles' 'I Got A Woman' (a duet with June Carter) is truly essential. But as a testament to the power and charisma of Cash, and the way in which his dark, troubled folk connects with, well, dark, troubled folk, At Folsom Prison (Legacy Edition) is utterly compelling.