Ring of Love for a Legend /

An all-star cast salutes an ill but

thrilled-to-be-singing Johnny Cash

By Letta Tayler. STAFF WRITER

Newsday

ALL-STAR TRIBUTE TO JOHNNY CASH. With Sheryl Crow, Chris Isaak, Wyclef Jean, Dave Matthews, Brooks & Dunn, Marty Stuart, Emmylou Harris, Kris Kristofferson, Lyle Lovett, Willie Nelson, Trisha Yearwood, June Carter Cash, Rosanne Cash, the Mavericks, Mary Chapin Carpenter and Cash himself. With taped or satellite contributions from U2, Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen. Tuesday night at Hammerstein Ballroom, Manhattan.

THE ALL-STAR tribute to Johnny Cash at the Hammerstein Ballroom on Tuesday night was a genuine rarity: a concert that for the most part will be more enjoyable on television than it was live. Viewers tuning in from the comfort of their couches (the concert airs April 18 at 8 p.m. on TNT) presumably will be spared the bright lights, endless takes of host Jon Voight reading supposedly sincere pronouncements from a giant TelePrompTer, and grating commands for the audience to clap and cheer. Still, no amount of editing will compensate for what they'll miss:

the thrill of being present during the few minutes in which Cash himself performed. The 67-year-old country legend, who was diagnosed a year and a half ago with a debilitating neurological disease called Shy-Drager syndrome, was widely expected never to play in public again. But although the quaver in his baritone was ragged and his spoken voice was weak, Cash summoned the strength to sound larger than life when he took up his acoustic guitar and launched into "Folsom Prison Blues," his foot-stomper about a repentant murderer. Cash poured pathos into the subject matter, but he also smiled, obviously ecstatic to be performing. "It feels good, it feels good," he said, closing his eyes and basking in the applause.

Then, with his wife, June Carter Cash, holding his hand, Cash began "I Walk the Line." The song turned into a transcendent anthem as all the show's performers walked on stage and joined in harmony. Cash has always walked the line between rock and country, and his range was underscored during performances by more than a dozen stars who cited him as a major influence. Chris Isaak and the Mavericks highlighted Cash's early rockabilly days with a hip-shaking "Get Rhythm." Cash's longtime guitarist, Marty Stuart, backed by righteous harmonies from the Fairfield Four, underscored the Man in Black's love of gospel with "Belshazzer." A resplendent June Carter Cash, strumming an autoharp, brought down the house with her homespun rendition of "Ring of Fire," the country love song she wrote for Cash that became one of his greatest hits. When Cash sang it, he sounded like he was burning in hell, but with his wife's dulcet tones, the song became pure submission.

Most musicians played Cash's songs with passion but little or no rearranging. One welcome exception was U2, appearing via tape from Dublin on a screen over the stage, who transformed the chestnut "Don't Take Your Guns to Town" into a potent lament that was half reggae, half Irish folk song, suspended over a martial drumbeat. Another was Wyclef Jean, who plucked an acoustic guitar as he injected freestyle rap into the chilling murder ballad "Delia's Gone."

Bruce Springsteen's unadorned cover of "Give My Love to Rose" was one of the most wrenching songs of the night, even if it was also a pretaped performance. Bob Dylan's "Train of Love," also pretaped, was indecipherable (he cawed and cawed) but heartfelt. Several songs underscored Cash's commitment to the world's have-nots. One, Kris Kristofferson's gruff version of "The Ballad of Ira Hayes," a song about an American Indian war hero who died a forgotten, destitute alcoholic, got the schlock treatment at the end, when a Marine in full uniform played "Taps."

But with his booming, emotive voice, Mavericks frontman Raul Malo filled "Man in Black," Cash's call to the world to address societal ills, with unadulterated dignity. "Till we start to make a few things right, you'll never see me wear a suit of white," Malo sang with such conviction that it seemed every performer at the tribute really had dressed in black for politics instead of fashion.