Damn....
RIP
RIP
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M
moose eater
I believe this is from Common Dreams. It was sent by an acquaintance, though I can't remember telling him about my time growing with John Prine. Apparently he knew I was/am a Prine fan(-atic), none the less.
I cried some more reading this, and yeah, the article is right on; he felt like a friend one had spent little or no real time with.
I think this is an epitaph's epitaph, for a "song writer's song writer."
"Oooohhhh… GODDAMNIT!!"
We've lost a good friend...
(*Embedded & photos links not transported into the copied and pasted document below)
--------------------------------------------------
Goddamn. A tough one. We mourn the gut-punching loss of singular songwriter, storyteller, poet, bard, meat-loaf-eating good ole boy and lovely human being John Prine, whose deep, wry, bittersweet songs of everyday life have helped so many get through so much. For almost two weeks - or was it two years? - Prine had been hospitalized in critical condition from COVID-19. The news of his illness sparked a vast outpouring of grief and hope from thousands of strangers who felt profoundly bound to him, people who felt like he was their beloved best friend or sweetheart or brother with the biggest heart in the world even though they'd never actually met him. They posted tributes, stories, covers of his songs in their living rooms, "pestering God 24/7" and honoring "a huge soul" whose kindness shone through as clearly as the wit and grace and genius of a songwriter who "could be the funniest and the saddest guy in the room, sometimes simultaneously." "If love could save a person, Prine would never die," wrote one. And, "This world desperately needs him around as long as possible. Side note: F* you, Coronavirus." When word of his death came Monday night, many devastated fans borrowed from Prine's "Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow)" to declare, "My heart's in the ice house." David Simon was bitter: "I got nothing for anyone today except for John Prine's honest words. Our leaders are shit. The disease is shit. The news is shit. Only people - most of us, anyway - are worth a damn. 'And all the news just repeats itself/Like some forgotten dream that we've both seen.'" Others mourned, but celebrated Prine's gorgeous, gleeful, not-quite-broken-hearted songs and the tender man who spun them. "RIP John Prine. Thanks for being so much more than we could ever deserve."
At the humble start a singing mailman whose carpenter grandfather had moved the family from coal-country Kentucky to melting-pot Chicago, Prine retained a plain-spoken Midwestern sensibility. His songs, he once said, allowed him to "live deep down inside my head," and the minimalist joys they offered was what a friend called "saying the thing without ever saying the thing." Chicago remained a touchstone for many songs that told the front-stoop stories of his life there: He really did once scrub parking lots (Fish and Whistle), get dumped by a girlfriend outside the cafe where she worked (Far From Me), muse about the lives of those he delivered newspapers to at a Baptist old people's home (Hello In There), and see a kid who'd been hit by a train when he went to shovel snow at a church (Bruised Orange/Chain of Sorrow). Other songs had more abstruse origins: He could never really explain how, as a 20-something kid, he wrote the achingly poignant Angel from Montgomery about a lonely, aging housewife - "There's flies in the kitchen I can hear 'em there buzzing" - trapped in a loveless marriage: "Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery/Make me a poster of an old rodeo/Just give me one thing that I can hold on to/To believe in this living is just a hard way to go." And it was only after Prine wrote the small, weird Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone - a tale of Sabu the Elephant Boy touring the Midwest dazed and confused - that he realized it was also about him being lonely on the road. Prine loved telling the stories of his songs, often with a sly kicker: "When I wrote this I stayed in my room for three days. I was afraid someone was going to ask me what the song was about."
Prine happily ranged from myth-busting country - "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" - to blasphemous - Jesus during the missing 18 years - to scrappily radical, with the pained guy and his unfaithful sweetheart at the drive-in as metaphor for the Vietnam War: "I used to sleep at the foot of old glory/And awake in the dawn’s early light/But much to my surprise when I opened my eyes/I was a victim of the great compromise.” He once said his favorite song, and one of ours, was the exquisitely melancholy Far From Me: "And the sky is black and still now/On the hill where the angels sing/Ain't it funny how an old broken bottle/Looks just like a diamond ring/But it's far, far from me." Always, the words dazzle: The "spaces between Donald and whatever he said," the Happy Enchilada (sic) guy stuck in the bathtub, "naked as the eyes of a clown," the sausages in the dark Lake Marie - "And man, they was sizzzzlin'" - how "If heartaches were commercials/We'd all be on TV," how "Broken hearts and dirty windows/Make life difficult to see/That's why last night and this morning/Always look the same to me." His fierce admirers liked to say he was a songwriters' songwriter; there are odd or raunchy or goofy John Prine songs, but there are really no bad John Prine songs. "If God's got a favorite songwriter," Kris Kristofferson, who gave him his first big break, once said, "I think it's John Prine." Robert Plant called him “a beacon of clear white light cutting through the dark days." Ron Sexsmith described “a humanist (who) could make you laugh one moment and rip your heart open in the next.” Others praised "the voice in the wilderness who gets a direct download from god three centuries before the religion is founded...A wizard making jokes only his friends will laugh at after pondering for 700 years."
Prine later moved to Nashville, and his raspy voice grew raspier with battles against neck and lung cancer, but still the songs kept coming, and he kept giving joy. Near the end, he got some well-deserved glory, with a cascade of awards, a place in the Songwriters Hall of Fame, and unprecedented success with his final album, his first in 13 years, "The Tree of Forgiveness." It includes the mournful Summer's End about the opioid epidemic - though you have to listen carefully to know it - and the jaunty When I Get To Heaven. "Yeah, I'm gonna smoke a cigarette/That's nine miles long," he exultantly imagines. "Yeah, this old man is goin' to town." As word of his death spread, his thousands of fans who thought they were somewhat alone in their devotion suddenly found much grievous company. "RIP John Prine," wrote one. "Thanks for being so much more than we could ever deserve."
Prine's wife Fiona, who helps run his independent Label Oh Boy Records with their son Jody and who had been sending online updates, thanked fans for their love; she asked, in lieu of flowers, for donations to three of John's favorite non-profits - thistlefarms.org, roomintheinn.org, nashvillerescuemission.org - helping the hungry, the homeless, and women survivors. The night he died, I dreamed he was back, filled with boundless joy. We hugged, laughed, exclaimed how cool it was he'd come back; when I realized he had to leave again, I felt a tangled mix of grief and gladness for all he'd left us. The dream felt extraordinarily rich and real. He was here. He still is. Thanks for all the gifts, John.
Wait awhile eternity
Old mother nature's got nothing on me
Come to me
Run to me
Come to me, now
We're rolling
My sweetheart
We're flowing
By God
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
I cried some more reading this, and yeah, the article is right on; he felt like a friend one had spent little or no real time with.
I think this is an epitaph's epitaph, for a "song writer's song writer."
"Oooohhhh… GODDAMNIT!!"
We've lost a good friend...
(*Embedded & photos links not transported into the copied and pasted document below)
--------------------------------------------------
Goddamn. A tough one. We mourn the gut-punching loss of singular songwriter, storyteller, poet, bard, meat-loaf-eating good ole boy and lovely human being John Prine, whose deep, wry, bittersweet songs of everyday life have helped so many get through so much. For almost two weeks - or was it two years? - Prine had been hospitalized in critical condition from COVID-19. The news of his illness sparked a vast outpouring of grief and hope from thousands of strangers who felt profoundly bound to him, people who felt like he was their beloved best friend or sweetheart or brother with the biggest heart in the world even though they'd never actually met him. They posted tributes, stories, covers of his songs in their living rooms, "pestering God 24/7" and honoring "a huge soul" whose kindness shone through as clearly as the wit and grace and genius of a songwriter who "could be the funniest and the saddest guy in the room, sometimes simultaneously." "If love could save a person, Prine would never die," wrote one. And, "This world desperately needs him around as long as possible. Side note: F* you, Coronavirus." When word of his death came Monday night, many devastated fans borrowed from Prine's "Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow)" to declare, "My heart's in the ice house." David Simon was bitter: "I got nothing for anyone today except for John Prine's honest words. Our leaders are shit. The disease is shit. The news is shit. Only people - most of us, anyway - are worth a damn. 'And all the news just repeats itself/Like some forgotten dream that we've both seen.'" Others mourned, but celebrated Prine's gorgeous, gleeful, not-quite-broken-hearted songs and the tender man who spun them. "RIP John Prine. Thanks for being so much more than we could ever deserve."
At the humble start a singing mailman whose carpenter grandfather had moved the family from coal-country Kentucky to melting-pot Chicago, Prine retained a plain-spoken Midwestern sensibility. His songs, he once said, allowed him to "live deep down inside my head," and the minimalist joys they offered was what a friend called "saying the thing without ever saying the thing." Chicago remained a touchstone for many songs that told the front-stoop stories of his life there: He really did once scrub parking lots (Fish and Whistle), get dumped by a girlfriend outside the cafe where she worked (Far From Me), muse about the lives of those he delivered newspapers to at a Baptist old people's home (Hello In There), and see a kid who'd been hit by a train when he went to shovel snow at a church (Bruised Orange/Chain of Sorrow). Other songs had more abstruse origins: He could never really explain how, as a 20-something kid, he wrote the achingly poignant Angel from Montgomery about a lonely, aging housewife - "There's flies in the kitchen I can hear 'em there buzzing" - trapped in a loveless marriage: "Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery/Make me a poster of an old rodeo/Just give me one thing that I can hold on to/To believe in this living is just a hard way to go." And it was only after Prine wrote the small, weird Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone - a tale of Sabu the Elephant Boy touring the Midwest dazed and confused - that he realized it was also about him being lonely on the road. Prine loved telling the stories of his songs, often with a sly kicker: "When I wrote this I stayed in my room for three days. I was afraid someone was going to ask me what the song was about."
Prine happily ranged from myth-busting country - "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" - to blasphemous - Jesus during the missing 18 years - to scrappily radical, with the pained guy and his unfaithful sweetheart at the drive-in as metaphor for the Vietnam War: "I used to sleep at the foot of old glory/And awake in the dawn’s early light/But much to my surprise when I opened my eyes/I was a victim of the great compromise.” He once said his favorite song, and one of ours, was the exquisitely melancholy Far From Me: "And the sky is black and still now/On the hill where the angels sing/Ain't it funny how an old broken bottle/Looks just like a diamond ring/But it's far, far from me." Always, the words dazzle: The "spaces between Donald and whatever he said," the Happy Enchilada (sic) guy stuck in the bathtub, "naked as the eyes of a clown," the sausages in the dark Lake Marie - "And man, they was sizzzzlin'" - how "If heartaches were commercials/We'd all be on TV," how "Broken hearts and dirty windows/Make life difficult to see/That's why last night and this morning/Always look the same to me." His fierce admirers liked to say he was a songwriters' songwriter; there are odd or raunchy or goofy John Prine songs, but there are really no bad John Prine songs. "If God's got a favorite songwriter," Kris Kristofferson, who gave him his first big break, once said, "I think it's John Prine." Robert Plant called him “a beacon of clear white light cutting through the dark days." Ron Sexsmith described “a humanist (who) could make you laugh one moment and rip your heart open in the next.” Others praised "the voice in the wilderness who gets a direct download from god three centuries before the religion is founded...A wizard making jokes only his friends will laugh at after pondering for 700 years."
Prine later moved to Nashville, and his raspy voice grew raspier with battles against neck and lung cancer, but still the songs kept coming, and he kept giving joy. Near the end, he got some well-deserved glory, with a cascade of awards, a place in the Songwriters Hall of Fame, and unprecedented success with his final album, his first in 13 years, "The Tree of Forgiveness." It includes the mournful Summer's End about the opioid epidemic - though you have to listen carefully to know it - and the jaunty When I Get To Heaven. "Yeah, I'm gonna smoke a cigarette/That's nine miles long," he exultantly imagines. "Yeah, this old man is goin' to town." As word of his death spread, his thousands of fans who thought they were somewhat alone in their devotion suddenly found much grievous company. "RIP John Prine," wrote one. "Thanks for being so much more than we could ever deserve."
Prine's wife Fiona, who helps run his independent Label Oh Boy Records with their son Jody and who had been sending online updates, thanked fans for their love; she asked, in lieu of flowers, for donations to three of John's favorite non-profits - thistlefarms.org, roomintheinn.org, nashvillerescuemission.org - helping the hungry, the homeless, and women survivors. The night he died, I dreamed he was back, filled with boundless joy. We hugged, laughed, exclaimed how cool it was he'd come back; when I realized he had to leave again, I felt a tangled mix of grief and gladness for all he'd left us. The dream felt extraordinarily rich and real. He was here. He still is. Thanks for all the gifts, John.
Wait awhile eternity
Old mother nature's got nothing on me
Come to me
Run to me
Come to me, now
We're rolling
My sweetheart
We're flowing
By God
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
RIP
Nice moose
Saw John with Bonnie Rait and after the show ran into them at a local restaurant. I told her to never stop playing that song and every time I've seen her since she has.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1T5NuI6Ai-o
Nice moose
Saw John with Bonnie Rait and after the show ran into them at a local restaurant. I told her to never stop playing that song and every time I've seen her since she has.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1T5NuI6Ai-o
M
moose eater
It's a powerful song, Better.
I know I said I was done posting links, but that last one, and this one make me a happy liar.
This is Johnny Prine on Austin City Limits in 2005, from youtube, with the entire recording session included, running about 1 hour and 19 minutes. Courtesy of another person who was grieving the loss of their 'friend from afar.'
I rarely grieve deceased celebrities.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QqcKpBD5bI
Listening to it now. Should be doing midnight chores in the shop..
I know I said I was done posting links, but that last one, and this one make me a happy liar.
This is Johnny Prine on Austin City Limits in 2005, from youtube, with the entire recording session included, running about 1 hour and 19 minutes. Courtesy of another person who was grieving the loss of their 'friend from afar.'
I rarely grieve deceased celebrities.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QqcKpBD5bI
Listening to it now. Should be doing midnight chores in the shop..
M
moose eater
Late enough to be tomorrow, and chores will be getting done...… now...
But I realized this tune had been missed, and that couldn't be left as-is.
Bush hippies and vets, living it until they weren't...
'Spanish Pipedream'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZ6INAayEJI
But I realized this tune had been missed, and that couldn't be left as-is.
Bush hippies and vets, living it until they weren't...
'Spanish Pipedream'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZ6INAayEJI
H G Griffin
Well-known member
https://edmontonjournal.com/enterta...ine/wcm/d1991441-ee01-411c-9198-a766fa99e2d1/
“If you loved John Prine onstage, rest assured that he was everything you would hope him to be offstage.”
“If you loved John Prine onstage, rest assured that he was everything you would hope him to be offstage.”
M
moose eater
Thanks.
I've encountered several stories of folks sneaking back-stage, past security, and locating him, with none of the typical, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????!!!" from JP. Just a sit-down and chat, and mutual respect in what I read.
In thinking about it, it occurred to me, that John Prine loved most of life, even the parts that cause a person to cry when singing or writing about hardships, broken hearts, etc. He was extremely gifted at finding that angle of view that reflected the Cosmic joke, even in emotional pain. That part that made life desirable and huggable, even when ending it all seemed a natural choice.
It's in that grin. His nearly-perpetual smile, head hung in humbleness, and his reaction to his own lyrics, his fans, and all of it, that made him seem so dear to some, I think.
Compassion with a chuckle, and an embrace of "this is just part of the ride; we'll get through this."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VI3YcpnkjIE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFvenjll1Bk
H G Griffin
Well-known member
It's always cool to hear from Terry Wickham. Edmonton has a huge, long running and successful International Folk Festival because of that man, and he has a similar reputation to Prine for being an old school straight shooter. The kind of man to whom his word is more binding than any legal agreement. I would have loved to listen to those two catching up.
Re your quote, I think he knew that the good things in life only have meaning in contrast to the bad; the old yin and yang. If all you know is happiness, how do you know you are happy?
On the other hand, every broken heart and punctured arm make us appreciate the love we've experienced and the comfort we've found. John Prine had a talent for putting that to music like no other.
M
moose eater
Absolutely.
M
moose eater
Bonnie Raitt, via Billboard, article, and dedication to John Prine. Scroll down to near the bottom of the article for video link of Bonnie, sheltering in place, recording from her home.
https://www.billboard.com/articles/...HWrWZ830VtGa2ZhTixgXqqYAnPP859j-zoFOM7V55UJwE
https://www.billboard.com/articles/...HWrWZ830VtGa2ZhTixgXqqYAnPP859j-zoFOM7V55UJwE
M
moose eater
I'd seen Roger Waters had dedicated a moment and tune to John Prine, but hadn't seen any previous connection, other than Waters regarded JP as a friend.
Then I came upon this today; Prine and Waters at the Newport Folk Festival in 2017. Another moment of 'Hello in There.'
Probably a 'unique pairing', as far as voice quality and assumed/usual genre, but.... shows the strings and lines connecting heart-felt folks in this life.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWZhti1k8T8
Maybe an up-to-date encore of 'Wish You Were Here' would be in order?
Then I came upon this today; Prine and Waters at the Newport Folk Festival in 2017. Another moment of 'Hello in There.'
Probably a 'unique pairing', as far as voice quality and assumed/usual genre, but.... shows the strings and lines connecting heart-felt folks in this life.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWZhti1k8T8
Maybe an up-to-date encore of 'Wish You Were Here' would be in order?
M
moose eater
The finale from Newport 2017; 'Paradise', with EVERYBODY on-stage, including Waters, and many more...
Very nice moment!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFxN02owoB8
Very nice moment!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFxN02owoB8
M
moose eater
An hour+ from the 2017 'Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival'
Excellent opener, and much more.
Johnny missed where we seem to be headed to. Good for him.
"There was all these things I don't think I remember. How lucky can one man get."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAG5XYkNmu0
Edit: In honesty, this is likely the BEST Prine show of its sort I've found. No reason to fuck it up beyond this. So despite having left this alone several times, anticipating being done posting here, only to betray my former statements, I think this is it. It's truly an amazing show overall, and probably the very best way to leave this thread. An incredible show by an incredible human being.
Excellent opener, and much more.
Johnny missed where we seem to be headed to. Good for him.
"There was all these things I don't think I remember. How lucky can one man get."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAG5XYkNmu0
Edit: In honesty, this is likely the BEST Prine show of its sort I've found. No reason to fuck it up beyond this. So despite having left this alone several times, anticipating being done posting here, only to betray my former statements, I think this is it. It's truly an amazing show overall, and probably the very best way to leave this thread. An incredible show by an incredible human being.
H G Griffin
Well-known member
I've just noticed that Moose Eater is gone. Does anyone know what happened? He seemed like a pretty cool ol' dude.
geneva_sativa
Well-known member
Just remember,,, John Prine died for your Covid sins
H G Griffin
Well-known member
What the hell is that even supposed to mean?
This thread is a tribute, don't turn it into another political cesspool.
geneva_sativa
Well-known member
Yeah,, Prine,, hez laughing with an illegal smile,,
you can check yer political correctness at the ccp table
you can check yer political correctness at the ccp table
Nannymouse
Well-known member
One of the best with lyrics, IMO. A fun time to watch his video stuff, refreshingly homey. Not being cute. We used to get the records going and have the neighbors over to dance and we learned some moves from the old folk's. My grandfather played fiddle for the local stuff, i think that he learned classical violin as a kid in Germany. We could dance everything imaginable, i think we learned it all except for the latin dances. Anyway, i was tickled when i would be watching Prine vids and something that he'd say or play would take me back.
MelloYello
Active member
Saw him 9 times live.
Incredible each time
Incredible each time
