There are songs that you simply hear, and then there are songs that you feel—the kind that seem to seep into your bones and set up camp in your soul. Kris Kristofferson’s 1970 classic, “Best of All Possible Worlds,” is firmly in the latter category. But even for those of us who thought we knew every nuance of this country ballad, a recent discovery has breathed new life into the legend. An unreleased session outtake, finally seeing the light of day on the expanded edition of Kristofferson’s 1999 album The Austin Sessions, gives us a rare, unfiltered glimpse into the mind of a master storyteller.
A Deeper Dive into the Song
For the uninitiated, “Best of All Possible Worlds” is a masterclass in storytelling. It opens with our protagonist sprinting through the summer rain to catch an evening train, trying to outrun that “old familiar pain.” A swig from his bottle, a clumsy encounter with a cop, and he finds himself spending the night in a jail cell. It’s a scene that could be straight out of a classic film noir, but Kristofferson infuses it with a dark, sardonic wit.
The song’s title is a brilliant piece of irony, a nod to the philosophical concept of optimism championed by Gottfried Leibniz . But Kristofferson’s world is far from a utopia. It’s populated by lonely, poor souls, sympathetic jailers, and a protagonist who finds his solace in the bottom of a bottle. The lyrics are raw and relatable:
“I said ‘if that’s against the law then tell me why I never saw a man locked in that jail of yours who wasn’t just as lowdown poor as me?'”
This isn’t just a song about a drunk; it’s a song about disillusionment, about the struggle against systemic injustice, and the search for a sliver of hope in a world that seems determined to beat you down. Interestingly, in the original composition, the character was explicitly a Black vagabond, a detail his record label at the time deemed too politically incorrect to include . This lost verse adds another layer of depth, hinting at a social commentary that was perhaps ahead of its time.
The New Discovery
So why the renewed excitement around a song over 50 years old? The answer lies in a newly unearthed version of the track.
The Austin Sessions were recorded in 1997 and initially released in 1999. The project was a revelation in itself. Kristofferson, then in his early 60s, revisited his most iconic songs with a stripped-down, raw approach, stripping away the formulaic “Music Row” production of the 1970s . It was like hearing the songs for the first time.
Now, Rhino Records has released The Austin Sessions: Expanded Edition, a remastered version that includes two previously unheard bonus tracks. One of them is an alternate take of “Best of All Possible Worlds,” which had been left on the cutting room floor during the original sessions .
This isn’t just a rehash of the original. As producer Fred Mollin noted, the discarded tracks showcased different sides of Kristofferson’s songwriting. This version is described as “lighthearted, dry, sarcastic,” and a prime example of his wry humor . At the very beginning of the track, you can even hear Kristofferson mutter, “I’m ready, God knows I’m ready,” before launching into the song . It’s a small, human moment that adds an incredible sense of intimacy.
Why It’s a Must-Listen
This newly released outtake is a gem for a few reasons.
First, it gives us a chance to hear Kristofferson in a different headspace. While the original 1970 recording was the song’s definitive version, this one feels more conversational. The “The Austin Sessions” version finds a comfortable middle ground between the 1970 original and 1999’s stripped-back re-recordings. It’s buoyant and entertaining, with a juxtaposition between a cheerful, up-tempo melody and the tragic, comical lyrics of a man down on his luck .
Second, it recontextualizes Kristofferson’s legacy. Often remembered for his more heartbreaking ballads like “Sunday Morning Coming Down” or “For the Good Times,” this track highlights his underappreciated sense of humor. As Ethan Hawke, a longtime fan, wrote, “Kris’ humor shines in this ode to wine and lonely girls” .
Finally, it’s a testament to the timelessness of great songwriting. The themes of loneliness, disillusionment, and the struggle to find hope in a flawed world are just as relevant today as they were in 1970. This new version of “Best of All Possible Worlds” is a gift to fans, a reminder that even decades later, there are still new layers to peel back in Kristofferson’s work.
Critical and Fan Reception
The release of this expanded edition has been met with excitement from critics and fans alike. It’s been praised as a rare opportunity to hear a master at work. The fact that this version was originally shelved makes its release all the more special. A previous outtake of “Jody and the Kid” from these sessions was also released, described as “spellbinding,” showing that this era of Kristofferson’s career was full of hidden treasures .
One writer noted that “Kristofferson doesn’t condemn his protagonist for his choices. Instead, he presents him with understanding and compassion,” pointing to the “tragic beauty” of the song’s appeal .
For Both New Listeners and Longtime Fans
“Best of All Possible Worlds” is the kind of song that welcomes both newcomers and old friends with open arms. It’s a testament to the enduring power of Kris Kristofferson, a man who was a Rhodes Scholar, an Army Captain, and a janitor before he became a legend. He embodies the “outlaw poet” persona perhaps better than anyone.
If you’re a country music fan, this is essential listening. But even if you’re new to the genre, the storytelling, the raw emotion, and the honesty of this track—especially the newly released outtake—are universal. It’s a song about what it means to be human, to stumble, and to get back up again.
You can practically imagine yourself in a dimly lit bar, drink in hand, as Kristofferson’s gravelly voice recounts a tale of a man who, despite everything, finds a certain defiant freedom in his choices. He knows the world isn’t perfect, but he’s determined to find his own “best of all possible worlds” anyway.
“Cause there’s still a lotta drinks that I ain’t drunk, lots of pretty thoughts that I ain’t thunk, Lord there’s still so many lonely girls in this best of all possible worlds.”
In the end, that’s the message that continues to resonate. It’s a toast to resilience, a defiant middle finger to despair, and a reminder that even in the face of adversity, we have the power to find our own meaning. And if that isn’t the mark of a timeless song, what is?