Icon: George Jones

Just over half these tracks were really hits, but in only six years of recording for Musicor, George turned out about 300 sides — so there were plenty of good non-hits, too, as well as considerable dross.

This set includes some of his most chipper uptempo romps, like "Four-O-Thirty Three" and "Love Bug," while his growth as a balladeer is undeniable; the pain and sorrow of "Sometimes You Just Can't Win" (a remake... of his 1962 hit) is much more palpable here despite the schlocky, swelling background vocals. Plus, there are terrific duets with the husky-voiced Melba Montgomery and with Brenda Carter, both of whom make Tammy sound rather genteel.

This multi-label '60s survey does overlap noticeably with the three above, so be judicious. But don't miss gems like "Things Have Gone to Pieces" or Dallas Frazier's brutal "Say It's Not You." Then there's "Take Me" and "Walk Through This World with Me," two of George's most unequivocally devotional love songs. Truth is, this '60s collection features a strong dose of some of Jones's most fully realized vocals; the instrumentation is lean... and even when background choruses are present they don't get in the way of George himself as often as usual.

Proof positive that Jones can be happily in love (mostly) and still sing beautifully. "What My Woman Can Do" may be dewy-eyed, but he sings with great control, and performances like "Love Lives Again" and "You'll Never Grow Old (To Me)" are tender while stopping short of mawkishness. Meanwhile, his uptempo material — the title song, "Never Having You" — is stronger than usual and Jones responds accordingly. The spooky "Made for... the Blues" benefits from its harmonica lead, George throws his whole heart into "Mom and Dad Waltz" and "Wine (You've Used Me Long Enough)" may be wishful thinking, but it's a powerful vocal just the same.

The first album after the end of his marriage, when this was first released it was billed as a return to the "old" Jones sound, i.e., bare bones honky-tonk. Well, yes and no: steel, fiddle and guitar get more play than producer Billy Sherrill normally allows, but he shoulda dispensed with those background vocals. What really marks the album is some of the most over-the-top songs George ever cut, especially "A Drunk... Can't Be a Man" and "Stand On My Own Two Knees." He makes fun of his whole sordid situation on "Her Name Is...," but despite that novelty, this is definitely George's Blood on the Tracks.

And so he is — with help from his producer. The story is that Billy Sherrill patched together "He Stopped Loving Her Today" almost word by word, from countless failed takes, so much did George dislike the song, and so messed up was he when trying to record it. On how many other tracks of this stellar comeback is that true, and does it matter? Performance for performance, funereal dirge for funereal... dirge, this is Jones at his best. The pedal steel is chilling, especially on "Brother to the Blues," and George sounds as committed on the out-of-place "Good Hearted Woman" as he does on the weepers.

It's part of George's particular genius that his record company can slap together an album to rush-release on the heels of an unexpected Top 10 hit and that album turns out to be as satisfying as those that were carefully planned. The title song is the surprise hit; it was followed by the ridiculous (that's no putdown) novelty "The King Is Gone (And So Are You)," with a drunken, maudlin, lovelorn George... waxing philosophical to a Fred Flintstone glass and an Elvis wine decanter. Then there's the 1983 "Radio Lover," a murderous cheating song that actually made it onto the radio, and the angst-ridden "Writing on the Wall." The rest is mostly remakes of country standards that George couldn't mess up if he wanted to.

This is the last hurrah for George with producer Billy Sherrill on Epic, though it's unclear whether the singer knew that when he was cutting it. Certainly he couldn't be further out at the end of his psychic rope than he is on "Hell Stays Open (All Night Long)" or Roger Miller's title song, to which George adds his own recitation. This set has a definite autumnal feel; it went completely unpromoted... and yielded zero hits for George (though three of its songs later provided hits for others). Call it the Great Lost George Jones Album.

Monumental. This gathers all George's hits — and then some — on Epic through 1982, which is to say all the hits of his peak years. It starts with label debut "We Can Make It," which he sings with his fingers crossed, and then details the ebb and flow and ultimate failure of his marriage to Tammy with the likes of "Loving You Could Never Be Better," "A Picture of Me (Without... You)," "These Days (I Barely Get By)" and the utterly shameless "The Battle" and "The Door."

Tammy often had to hold back a bit to keep her big voice from overwhelming George's more nuanced vehicle, but that's OK; she never failed to do so. Chemistry took care of the rest; they were utterly convincing singing the likes of "Take Me" (a former solo hit for Jones) early on, and "We're Gonna Hold On" as things got shaky. And as a fitting climax to the soap-opera angle being milked... so thoroughly, the 1980 "Two Story House" happens to be a genuinely great country song as well as the twosome's last major hit.