By the late 1960s, this had taken its toll. Jones had earned a reputation for missing live dates (and the nickname "No-Show Jones") and decided to make a change of venue by moving to Nashville. There he formed two of the most important relationships he'd ever make: he met his third wife, country singer Tammy Wynette, and his long-time producer, amanuensis, and creative better half, Billy Sherrill.

With Wynette, Jones began to record a number of very successful duets that also seemed to parallel the arc of their relationship, such as "Take Me" and "The Ceremony." Unfortunately, after a few years of whiskey, cocaine, and hijinks with handguns and car wrecks, Jones and Wynette were singing "We Loved It Away," and Wynette was writing for George a solo hit called "These Days I Barely Get By." As the drugs took deeper hold of him, Jones entered a two-decade career twilight, punctuated by moments of genius and moments of utter ruin.

The greatest of the strokes of genius was 1980's LP, I Am What I Am. Billy Sherrill was an in-demand Nashville producer, key inventor of the "countrypolitan" sound and devotee of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound. Consequently, he sought to stuff every crevice of every track he produced with a panoply of strings, steel guitars, keyboards, choirs, and drums saturated with acres of reverb and echo. Although Jones had initially balked at Sherrill's sound and his autocratic way of running sessions, by 1980 their working relationship had become deep and strong.

It was Jones' trust of Sherrill that led him to cut for I Am What I Am a song he wasn't too sure about, an absurdly maudlin, mawkish, pathetic, bathetic, over-the-top ballad called "He Stopped Loving Her Today." It was the story of a man who pledged eternal love to a woman who refused to love him back, until he finally died of his broken heart. On paper, it seemed to be much the same as dozens of other songs Jones had cut over the last quarter-century, only twice as sentimental. And yet somehow, over months of drunken missed takes and coked-out false starts, "He Stopped Loving Her Today" emerged as the probably the greatest performance of Jones' career, and one of the finest vocal performances ever committed to tape.

(An aside. What is it about geniuses with drug problems? The mental image of George Jones peeling himself off a sticky studio couch with a crushing hangover and stepping up to the microphone to unfurl a searing and perfect vocal take reminds me of the legendary session that bassist James Jamerson played for Marvin Gaye's What's Goin' On. Jamerson reputedly came up with the perfect and eternal bass line of the title song in one heroic take from the floor of the studio, lying flat on his back because he was too high to get up. What is it about geniuses with drug problems?)