A grad school friend from Georgia once took to the karaoke microphone at a bar in Central New York. He asked the DJ if he had any Johnny Cash. Inexplicably, the DJ did not. My friend sighed a bit into the mike and nodded. “That’s OK, I’ll take care of it.” He then sang Boyz II Men’s “End of the Road” with his full on southern drawl in the style of The Man in Black. All assembled sat enraptured as he sang. When he finished, the barflies cheered. It was magnificent. Wherever he was at that moment, Johnny Cash inexplicably shed a tear.

Music may have genres, but let me tell you, my friends, the right artist can transcend them. On one snowy Saturday night in Ithaca, New York, a microbiologist from Macon, Georgia, took R&B to the top of the country chart.