It's weird how a celebrity's death can phase you like they were someone who you really knew. I think in some ways it connects us to those who we have lost who were closer to us in real life, that maybe we weren't able to fully comprehend when we lost them. That being said, John Prine felt like my funny uncle who I wanted to be for as long as I "knew" him. He soothes my soul in a way that few others have, butting a line that will make you laugh out loud up against another line that'll absolutely crush your heart.
I had the honor and privilege of seeing him perform twice, once in Waukegan with Big Al Larcher (thank you, Al, so glad we got there and survived Waukegan!), and once at the Ryman with Liz for a birthday trip. Sturgill joined him that night and it was one of the most magical performances of my life. After being stationary for most of the night, for the closing number, Prine danced off the stage to a standing ovation, which is how I'll always remember him.
The below two articles do a great job of summing up Prine's life - a modern-day Mark Twain of the singing variety. Rolling Stone dives into the details and nuances of his storied career, and the Pitchfork piece paints a beautiful, tragic story of personal loss and triumph that reads much like a Prine song by the time you're done with it.
Prine's last song on his last album was called, "When I Get to Heaven," and the last song released with his voice on it was called, "Memories," a duet with a 60's Blues artist, Swamp Dogg. "Memories" features the following lines:
Memories
Don't leave like people do
And that's why anytime, anywhere
I can still be with you.
Don't leave like people do
And that's why anytime, anywhere
I can still be with you.
Memories
Don't leave like people do
And that's why in my mind
I'm always gonna be with you.
Don't leave like people do
And that's why in my mind
I'm always gonna be with you.
Needless to say, he crushed his final act better than most.
Beyond all that, who could say it better than Prine himself? The below lyrics provide an example of Prine's vivid abstract painting, and how he can slowly pull things into focus before yanking the rug out from under your heart...in just a few short syllables. You can listen along at the hyperlink below. Sometimes a verse and a chorus are so damn good, you just do them twice instead of writing a second one.
RIP, John. Enjoy that vodka and ginger ale and "cigarette that's 9 miles long" in heaven. You earned it, buddy.
My heart's in the ice house come hill or come valley
Like a long-ago Sunday when I walked through the alley
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
Just to shovel some snow.
Like a long-ago Sunday when I walked through the alley
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
Just to shovel some snow.
I heard sirens on the train track howl naked gettin' nuder,
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter
Just from walking with his back turned
To the train that was coming so slow.
You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,
Throw your hands in the air, say "; What does it matter?";
But it don't do no good to get angry,
So help me I know.
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own
Chain of sorrow.
I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there.
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
And my head shouted down to my heart
"You better look out below!"
Hey, it ain't such a long drop don't stammer don't stutter
From the diamonds in the sidewalk to the dirt in the gutter
And you carry those bruises to remind you wherever you go.
