George Jones

An early acolyte of Hank Williams, his career spanned six decades and he continued to record and tour up until illness hospitalised him earlier this month prior to his death last Friday, at the age of 81, a good 30 years more than anyone, himself including, ever expected he would see.

With his traumatic family background, battered good looks and acute fondness for the bottle, George seemed destined for country music eminence before he even opened his mouth but when he did, his rich, expressive baritone proved peerless when it came to singing the songs that struck a chord with almost everyone who had experienced loss, pain and rejection. In other words, anyone who had ever loved.

At a time when celebrity bad behaviour was not savoured as eagerly as it is today, George's many indiscretions made notorious music-biz ratbags such as Pete Doherty and Sid Vicious look like the rank amateurs they undoubtedly are and were.

In addition to alcoholism, domestic violence and a reputation for unreliability that led to him earning the nickname No-Show Jones, he added a prodigious cocaine habit to the mix, a self-destructive lifestyle choice which led to a stay in a psychiatric hospital he was not expected to survive.

Unlike other less talented addicts however, Jones was able to channel this personal pain and anguish into his work, giving ballads usually composed by others, a personal, poetic, bitter integrity no other singer was able to touch.

On his most famous song, He Stopped Loving Her Today, Jones tells the story of the guy who just could not get over his woman, in a knowing, empathetic voice that oozes veracity. Helped by a magnificent, over-the-top Billy Sherrill production, the pair turn a simple three-chord number into an opus to life-long obsession and hurt with which men – women too, but mostly men because they had been there – could readily identify.

A naturally shy man, which may well have been at the root of his personal demons, Jones didn't attempt to examine or deliberate about his abilities too deeply, preferring to let the music – and that voice – do the talking. On one of the few occasions when he could be persuaded to consider why it was he was able to connect with so many people who had experienced loss or pain, he said simply: "I sing songs that fit the hard-working, every day, loving person. That's what country music is about. My fans and real true country music fans know I'm not a phony. I just sing it the way it is, put feeling in it if I can and try to live the song."

Naturally enough Jones married several times, including a six-year liaison with The Queen of Feminine Heartache Tammy Wynette, slap bang in the middle of his self-confessed crazy period. His life completely dominated by booze, legend tells of a desperate Tammy hiding the keys to every one of the family's cars, only to discover that George had made the 10-mile trip to the nearest bar on the gardener's ride-on mower.

In latter years, Jones successfully renounced his drinking and drug taking and, as country music started to become more acceptable to the mainstream, was feted by hipper contemporary artists such as Elvis Costello, Pete Townshend and many others who recognised his unique voice, interpretative genius and unquestionable musical influence.

George Jones continued to release new material, much of which was well received, but would forever be associated with songs such as He Stopped Loving Her, She Thinks I Still Care and A Good Year for the Roses where his expressive, technically flawless, yet anguish-drenched voice could be used to best effect.

They say that in country music, authenticity is everything, even though the cowboy hats, rhinestone and glitter might tend to suggest the opposite, but Jones was able to effortlessly straddle both strands, making him not only a champion of "true" traditional Nashville-style country but also a genuinely heroic, inspirational figure to new country artists like Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson and Tim McGraw.

For blokes like me, however, George Jones pure and simply leaves the best of all legacies: he understood what it was all about.