With a name like this you know this isn't going to be a hum-drum by the numbers greatest hits package. The three CDs, available individually or in a box set, feature 48 recordings from 1956's "I Walk the Line" to 1996's "The Kneeling Drunkard's Plea." The big hits like "Ring of Fire" and "I Walk the Line" are duly included. The surprise is that they are side by side with more obscure recordings like "The Sound of Laughter" (previously unreleased in the U.S.) and a live version of "Orleans Parish Prison."

Unlike most career-length compilations "Love, God, Murder" makes no attempt to exhaustively catalog Cash's five decade long career. Instead it focuses his substantial body of work into three dominant themes: Love, God and Murder. This unusual approach is justified, and invaluable when you learn that Cash hand picked the songs to be included. Its an original attempt by an original American artist to present his life's work in a thematic framework. Oh yeah its also a blast to listen to.

Unlike the rest of his greatest hits packages, this trio of discs (16 tracks each and themed neatly as Love, Murder and God) were hand-picked by Cash from across the spectrum of his all-encompassing career - from early Sun recordings in the `50s to Rick Rubin-produced comeback discs in the middle of the new country `90s. But familiarity is not an issue: no kidding, one listen to this bunch and poof! you're an instant Cash fan. There's something undeniably magical about his formula for story-telling. It's not country, it's not honky tonk, it's not rock and roll, it's something more primal, like twisted campfire songs sung/spoken by a black-clad bullfrog sitting on the fence between heaven and hell. Themes aside, the imagery of love, God and murder float through all three discs, though Murder was the first stop (don't ask why) and it's the best; packed with black-humoured tales from the Old West (Don't Take Your Guns To Town, Mister Garfield), of hangings, gun fights, prisons (Folsom Prison Blues, Austin Prison), luckless outlaws (Cocaine Blues) and merciless sheriffs, all brought to vibrant life and stamped indelibly with Cash's echoed and haunting baritone, token sound effects and spartan acoustics. The spirit of the Murder set is epitomized in Joe Bean, the tale of an ill-fated bandit who, despite his mother's best efforts at the Governor's office, is hanged on his birthday. Mid-song, Cash and a chorus break in to `Happy Birthday Joe Bean' only to be interrupted by the sound of the gallows creaking open and the audible - gack! - of a freshly hung Bean. Try to stifle the chuckles when the bunch resume singing the birthday refrain. It's dark, twisted - and damn funny, tongue-in-cheek violence that makes Uzi-blasting gangsta rappers sound like the Muppets. From Murder to Love, if only because it has a bevy of familiar tracks (I Walk the Line, Flesh and Blood, Ring of Fire, Oh What a Dream). While not quite as captivating a listen as Murder, it boasts the same brilliant storytelling - bittersweet, gruesome and genuine - and unencumbered acoustic pluck, a steely guitar style so evocative of the Old West the backbeat sounds as if it's been stapled to the front end of a coal-fired express train. No surprise - in Cash's world of Love the roses are faded, the hearts are broken and commitment is more likely to end in fiery destruction than a silver anniversary. Forget chocolates and candles. The love celebrated here is the real goods - the pain, desperation, the doom, the jealousy - not the simpleton sonnets of undying amour espoused in new country aggrandizement. Finally, there's God. With its age-old imagery of fire, brimstone and anticipated salvation, it's a closer companion piece to Murder, a fact played out as Cash's big authoritative baritone resonates like a tent revival preacher, transforming the subject matter - this time a black and white hymn book packed with Old West spirituals - into hypnotically colourful illustrations of heavenly affirmation and Holy fire (It Was Jesus, My God Is Real, Redemption, Belshazzar, The Kneeling Drunkard's Plea). Yes, there may be more to life than love, murder and God. But in dashing his world of outlaws, heartbreak and faith with impossibly human fallibilities, contradictions and twisted consequences, Cash makes it real, so real you'll ultimately feel like celebrating the fact you're alive.

Obviously, the material is totally essential. If you don't own many Cash CD's, stop reading and go buy this right now. If you already own an armload of Cash discs, you might need more convincing as to why you should part with 30 more of your hard earned dollars... first off, there's a handful of unissued tracks, but the real attraction is the sound... pristine, clear as a bell, warm, detailed and featuring an expansive soundstage (on the stereo recordings)... it's considerably better than even the columbia remasters. If you have a high-end stereo, this is worth owning for the sound alone.

What struck me the most about this three-disc set are the 16 songs that comprise the "murder" disc. Songs such as "When It's Springtime in Alaska" and "Cocaine Blues" are every bit as stark and brutal as anything you'll hear by modern rap stars. I've always respected Cash as a singer and musician, but hearing this set re-acquainted me with Cash the outlaw. It's interesting to note that Cash was singing about murdering his loved ones (e.g., in "Cocaine Blues") decades before Eminem was rapping about murdering his wife, Kim. But Cash is more than an outlaw, as the "Love" and "God" discs demonstrate. Whether singing original songs or interpreting songs written by others, Cash reveals himself to be a complicated man wrestling with demons while aspring to love people and worship God.

Comprised of more than thirty years of recordings, Love, God and Murder captures the three dominate themes covered by Johnny Cash. Who else could cover songs as diverse as Long Black Vail and Bruce Springsteen's Highway Patrolman? More than any other artist he seamlessly blends appalachian ballards, country swing, rockabilly, folk and more. Yet anything he touches is indelibly stamped by Cash's "boom-chicka-boom" signature rhythm.

Box sets are often put together to capture an artists' greatest hits or present an anthology of the breath of their works. Not so with Love, God and Murder. Here the listener is allowed to journey through the most poignant of literary themes. Cash is no stranger to these, as he has continually revisted them throughout his recorded output. From Ring of Fire, (Love) to Why Me Lord, (God) to Don't Take Your Guns To Town, (Murder) Johnny Cash delivers an honest, world-weary testament to man's most basic beliefs.