John Prine passed away this week at the age of 73, from complications due to COVID-19.
Tributes and remembrances have abounded from the music community for the great songwriter and musician. While Prine’s star never quite achieved what some would call mainstream success, his avid fans included something like a Who’s Who of popular musicians over the past 50 years or so—from legends like Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and Bruce Springsteen to younger musicians like Jason Isbell and Brandi Carlile. Prine’s songs have been covered by more artists than I could mention here, and his songwriting prowess is recognized and respected by musicians of every genre.
At a time when most artists were writing songs about love or protest, Prine wrote songs about everyday Americans.
Making his way as a young songwriter and performer, Prine worked as a postman in Chicago and played bars in the evenings. The story goes that back in 1970, Roger Ebert, at the time a film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, happened to walk into a club the young and then-unknown Prine was playing. So taken was Ebert by the songs, he wrote a glowing review the next day about this "singing mailman."
At a time when most artists were writing songs about love or protest, Prine wrote songs about everyday Americans. He told stories about people struggling with loneliness or addictions, about eccentrics trying to fit in, about soldiers coming home, about homemakers and blue collar workers and other common folk. His songs are funny, poignant, clever, and profound.
I’ve had debates for years with other fans of his music about our favorite Prine song. Many people love “Angel From Montgomery"—and might be most familiar with the tender and soulful cover by Bonnie Raitt—and the fun and catchy “Spanish Pipedream (Blow Up Your TV)." There's even the silly and endearing “In Spite of Ourselves," on which he duets with Iris DeMent. I’ll admit to being moved to tears by so many of his songs, from “Hello In There” and “Mexican Home” (particularly the later live versions) to “Summer’s End” and “Clay Pigeons” among others.
It might be a strange choice, but lately I’ve gravitated towards “Lake Marie” from Prine’s 1995 record Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings. Prine writes about a real lake in Wisconsin that was the subject of some mystery and folklore. Then he intertwines the lake’s origin story with a few stories of fiction, dark and heavy, always returning to the refrain: “We were standing, standing by peaceful waters."
For nearly 50 years, he forged his own path. He wrote about the strugglers and underdogs, and he wrote about you and me.
To me, this shows the full spectrum of Prine’s artistic and creative abilities. He can write a song that can make you cry, where he paints characters clear and tells a story that you can easily find yourself in. He can also write a song that can make you dance and sing along after only one chorus. He can even write a song like “Lake Marie”, that makes the listener take notice and maybe even think, “What the hell is this about?” Then captivated, each listener comes away with their own interpretation. And that’s true art, is it not?
I suppose that’s why I’ve loved John Prine’s music for so long. He was never concerned, not at the beginning of his career nor at the end, about trying to mimic what was on the radio or achieving stardom. You won’t listen to a John Prine song and think, “He’s trying to sound like…”. For nearly 50 years, he forged his own path. He wrote about the strugglers and underdogs, and he wrote about you and me.
While you likely won’t find his songs on the popular charts, John Prine the artist, the songwriter, and the storyteller will for many, many years continue to have a significant impact on songwriters present and future. And his presence will be missed greatly.
Photo Credit: Mark Humphrey (AP)
