"Sam Stone"
John Prine is a hell of a songwriter. He can write a simple country folk song that will knock you out. Prine is a poet, really, and a short story writer, and a singer all rolled up in one. Listen to the words, and unless you're a hopelessly hard-hearted bastard you'll feel something. That's truth.
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Kris helped him get a recording contract, and the eponymous 1971 album that followed was a huge hit. The cover showed him sitting on a couple bales of hay like some farmboy. This was 1971, mind you, and way out of step with the fashion of the day, but the hippest songwriters payed close attention. Like any great new songwriter, he was called "the next Bob Dylan," but the old, original Dylan himself was a big fan, and even showed up to a gig to play harmonica with John.
"Paradise"
Here's a younger John Prine slinking around in his old hometown of Maywood, Illinois. He sings "Paradise," a song about returning to his old Kentucky home to find it stripped away by Peabody Coal Company.
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In 2009, Bob Dylan told the Huffington Post that Prine was one of his favorite writers, stating "Prine's stuff is pure Proustian existentialism. Midwestern mindtrips to the nth degree. And he writes beautiful songs. I remember when Kris Kristofferson first brought him on the scene. All that stuff about "Sam Stone," the soldier junkie daddy, and "Donald and Lydia," where people make love from ten miles away. Nobody but Prine could write like that."
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"Hello in There."
John's older now--who isn't? He's had his ups and downs. It's fitting to end with his song about old age, a sweet heartrending favorite off his first album so many years ago.
post inspired by Bill Craig Jones, who posted some Prine clips on Facebook. Bill is a bay area musician and old friend who used to jam with us up on Cooper Mountain back in the day.
4 comments:
Great job on that article Bob.
Hi Bob, Bill sent me your blog address... I had sent him a little John Prine story about when I met John in Seattle. I believe Seattle sits in a great vortex of some kind because the phenomena you mentioned in another one of your posts describes a reoccurring thing... can't think of a noun... sorry, I'm very, very tired, but I am writing because I wanted to share a great book with you. I'm in chapter 13... not by name, but I was there... actually, I was there the whole time as I was born in Seattle in 1949 which made me 18 in 1967... We were called "fringies" by the press and establishment when I was growing up there in Seattle. Fringies was an acronym or shorter way of saying "the fringe element of the university district" as we were the kids that hung out at the coffeehouses and U of W campus in the sixties... too young and west coast to be beatniks and the word "hippie" hadn't been invented yet.
So the story of some of those days has been captured very accurately by my friend, Walter Crowley. He has since pass away, but the book lives on. It's called: Rites of Passage, A Memoir of the Sixties in Seattle by Walt Crowley ...Enjoy! A friend of more than one Bill. Pattra
Glad you liked it. The clips you posted on FB triggered my memory of all the great John Prine songs.
Thanks for the book suggestion, Pattra. You'll be happy to kn ow that "fringies" are still hanging out on the Ave in the U District.
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