John Prine One Song at a Time

First published 2021

Copyright © 2021 by Bruce Rits Gilbert

All rights reserved

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-578-80051-6

ebook ISBN: 978-1-098-35410-7

Edited by Tess Gunty

Book Design by Nicholas Gunty

Cover photograph by Rich Zimmermann

Photographs of John Prine (Chapters 2, 15 and 20) and of Kris Kristofferson (Chapter 17) courtesy of Rich Zimmermann

Photograph of Sun Records (Chapter 6) courtesy of JeremyA, adapted by Nicholas Gunty and licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5

All other photographs courtesy of Bruce Rits Gilbert

All sketches by Nicholas Gunty

To my four beautiful grandkids: Calder, Jane, Jack, and Charlie. Every day, you allow me to say, How lucky can one man get. I love you.

~ Boo

Table of Contents

Introduction

John Prine (1971) – The Classics

Diamonds in the Rough (1972) – The Roots

Sweet Revenge (1973) – The Irreverent

Common Sense (1975) – The Underrated

Bruised Orange (1978) – The Familiar

Pink Cadillac (1979) – The Static

Storm Windows (1980) – The Good Twin

Aimless Love (1984) – The Mail Order

German Afternoons (1986) – The Middle of the Road

The Missing Years (1991) – The Boss

A John Prine Christmas (1994) – The Happiest Time

Lost Dogs + Mixed Blessings (1995) – The Shadows

Live on Tour (1997) – The Oddballs

In Spite of Ourselves (1999) – The Duets

Souvenirs (2000) – The Classics Redux

Fair & Square (2005) – The True Love

Standard Songs for Average People (2007) – The Old Timers

For Better, Or Worse (2016) – The Duets 2.0

The Tree of Forgiveness (2018) – The Bittersweet

Singles (1970-2020) – The Memories

The Lists

Acknowledgements

Select Bibliography

Notes

Introduction

I’m old enough to have hopped on the John Prine bandwagon right from the very start. But, in the late 1960s, when John was a mailman in Maywood, Illinois, and writing songs while delivering the mail, I was just starting high school. And in 1971, when John released his first album—John Prine—I was beginning my senior year, playing football and listening mostly to The Beatles, The Band, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, and all sorts of rock and roll. John Prine did not yet exist in my world.

But, back then, somewhat as a guilty pleasure, I liked country music, even though I really didn’t know much about it. And, as country rock became a thing, I became a fan. I became semi-obsessed with Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline, which came out in 1969. Brewer & Shipley’s Tarkio Road was constantly on my turntable. And I was just starting to learn about Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, and other country stars of the era.

So when I headed off to college in 1972 at the University of Wisconsin, I packed my portable record player and a bunch of albums. As was common in most kids’ dormitories back then, music was almost always on in my room. You know, headphones existed, but not many folks used them, and it was well before the days of the Walkman. So blasting a record from the tinny speakers in one’s room was the norm.

Album trading / borrowing / taking-and-never-returning was another norm of that time, and one day, in the spring semester in 1973, I ended up with a John Prine album on my turntable. As I recall, it was an album owned by the older sister of one of my friends. And it was spectacular. The album was John Prine, which includes some of the best songs ever written, like Sam Stone, Spanish Pipedream, and Hello in There. As many on my floor in our high-rise dormitory on the east side of campus, in the time of bell-bottom jeans and psychedelic colors, were playing Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, Deep Purple, and the like, I found myself going in an entirely different musical direction. And, before long, I was hooked on John Prine.

Once I hopped on the John Prine train, I never looked back. I hung on to my borrowed copy of John Prine until the fall of 1973, when I had to return that borrowed album, at which point I headed over to the local record store on State Street in Madison (where the special deal was three albums for $10) and I bought my own copy of John Prine, along with Diamonds in the Rough, and Sweet Revenge. And, just like that, I had a new musical hero.

John Prine quickly became as influential as The Beatles were for me. I was lucky enough to get my folks to spot me a few bucks every time a new Beatles record came out, and I bought each and every Beatles record within days of its release. And I even saw The Beatles in Milwaukee on September 4, 1964, when I was just 10 years old. But by 1973, The Beatles weren’t making any new records, and they weren’t touring, either. So John Prine filled the void.

Fortunately, getting a ticket to see John Prine wasn’t quite as difficult as getting a ticket to see The Beatles. I first saw John Prine in 1974. He was booked for the Schlitz Stage at Summerfest (the annual music festival in Milwaukee) on a warm summer evening. Some folks just stumbled upon this unique singer-songwriter as they were walking through the Summerfest grounds. But not me. I was there to see John Prine.

Since then, I’ve seen John Prine a couple dozen times. And each time was truly exceptional. I think that it’s safe to assume that, if you’re reading this, you’re probably a John Prine fan, and you probably know what I’m talking about.

So, when John died on April 7, 2020, it hit me hard. I never met him, but, somehow, I felt that I knew him. After reading tributes to him from fans and music critics alike, I realized that this was a common effect he had on listeners from around the world. Maybe it was his shy but comfortable stage presence. Maybe it was his self-deprecating humor, or the twang of his voice. Maybe it was the warmth, comedy, and compassion in his lyrics. Maybe it was his gentle activism. Whatever it was, when we lost John Prine, most of us felt like we had lost a dear friend. My first instinct was to revisit his whole discography, starting with John Prine and working my way to The Tree of Forgiveness. But, like most all great things, John’s music always sounds better when shared, so I gathered my three daughters, four of my nephews, two of my brothers-in-law, and a couple of other folks, and we started what we dubbed The John Prine Album Club. Our mission was simply to listen to each John Prine album—one per week—and discuss them together.

And then I realized that, although there is lots of information on John Prine out in the world, there isn’t a single resource that discusses his life’s work. Sure, there’s content about him all over the internet. There’s a good book about him called John Prine In Spite of Himself, which was written by Eddie Huffman and published in 2015. And, in 2017, John Prine published his own book, Beyond Words. But there isn’t a single place to go for insight about his songs and records. So I thought: "Maybe I could create that place."

This book is not a definitive biography of John Prine. John Prine, In Spite of Himself is a good place to start if that’s what you’re looking for. And others may be writing John Prine biographies as I type.

Rather, this is a fan book. It’s nothing more or less than a review of John Prine’s music, written and curated by one John Prine fan, culled from reviews and opinions from 1970 to 2020, along with some of John’s own thoughts about his music. Album by album. One song at a time.

John Prine (1971) – The Classics

John Prine, as most folks now know, includes some of the classic John Prine songs, and some of the most often played John Prine songs to this day. It’s an embarrassment of riches. Illegal Smile, Spanish Pipedream, Hello in There, Sam Stone, Paradise and seven more indelible songs. This is a debut album that should have gone gold within a week of its release. But who knew John Prine then? I didn’t. And neither did most of the John Prine fans who exist today.

The story that led to this John Prine debut has a few main characters. Among them: Dave Prine, Roger Ebert, Steve Goodman, and Kris Krisofferson.

Dave Prine was John’s oldest brother. John also had an older brother, Douglas, and a younger brother, Billy. They grew up in Maywood, Illinois—a suburb of Chicago. As is well-documented, John was not a great student, and, as he once said: I couldn’t concentrate on anything besides daydreaming. My brother saw this … and he saw music as a way of getting through to me. So Dave Prine taught John a few chords on the guitar. From there, John said, it was me sitting there alone in a room singing to the wall.

Roger Ebert was a movie critic for the Chicago Sun-Times in 1970. Of course, he eventually became one of the best-known movie critics in the country. As the story goes, Roger Ebert left a movie theater in October of 1970 because the popcorn was too salty. Finding comfort in a nearby bar in Chicago—the Fifth Peg—he stumbled upon his first John Prine show. In his review of the show, Ebert explains: He starts slow. But after a song or two, even the drunks in the room begin to listen to his lyrics. And then he has you. After that review, John said that he never again played to an empty seat at the Fifth Peg.

Steve Goodman and John Prine met around 1970. Rolling Stone Magazine called Goodman the impish, jubilant yin to Prine’s prematurely craggy, sardonic yang. Steve and John would perform at folk clubs in the Chicago area together. Then, in early 1971, Steve got a gig opening for Kris Krisofferson at a club called the Quiet Knight. On the last of the four nights that Steve opened for Kris, he finally persuaded Kris to see John play at another club in Chicago.

Kris Kristofferson arrived late at the club that night and did not catch John’s show. So in the early morning hours, John got back on stage and played a brief set, including Sam Stone, Hello in There, Paradise, Donald and Lydia, and Illegal Smile. Kris was so taken with John and his music that he instantly bought John a beer and asked him to get back on stage to play the same set again, song for song. Kris invited John and Steve Goodman to New York City a few months later to sing three songs a piece. John sang Hello in There, Sam Stone, and Paradise. By 10:00 a.m. the next day, Jerry Wexler at Atlantic Records had offered John a record contract.

The album was recorded in Memphis, Tennessee (except Paradise, which was recorded in New York City). It was well-received. On December 23, 1971, Rolling Stone Magazine famously wrote: If he’s this good this young, time should be on his side.

Just like that, John Prine was on the map, and, of course, dubbed another next Dylan.

What made this debut so startling? As a fan, I can tell you what I think: John Prine is, from start to finish, completely full of incredible songs. They’re fun, they’re thoughtful, and they’re unique. And it’s not just John’s insightful lyrics; the melodies, mostly created from three chords per song, are infectious and, in many cases, timeless. When the album is over, you just want to hear it again, from start to finish, song for song. As the years went by, John would say he grew to dislike the sound of his young, higher voice on those old records, but the songs were then—and remain to this day—outstanding.

Rolling Stone Magazine, in its 2020 ranking of the 500 best albums of all time, ranked John Prine as the 149th best album ever, saying that John’s closest parallel isn’t another songwriter, it’s Mark Twain.

The record was produced by Arif Mardin.

01 Illegal Smile

The opening lyrics to the opening song on the debut album go like this: When I woke up this morning, things were looking bad/Seems like total silence was the only friend I had. And with just three chords, in the key of G (John’s favorite),1 this song grabs you.

But, no, it’s not that kind of illegal smile. Here’s what John said to Performing Songwriter Magazine about Illegal Smile:

I have to confess, the song was not about smokin’ dope. It was more about how, ever since I was a child, I had this view of the world where I can find myself smiling at stuff nobody else was smiling at. But it was such a good anthem for dope smokers that I didn’t want to stop every time I played it and make a disclaimer.

Those of us old enough to remember the release of Meet the Beatles—The Beatles’ first album in the U.S.—also remember what a sensation I Want To Hold Your Hand was. It was a spectacular opening song on a debut album. Not that John Prine is necessarily comparable to The Beatles—I compare them merely because The Beatles are my favorite band and John Prine is my favorite sing-songwriter—but Illegal Smile was a pretty stunning opening song on a debut, too. The songs are different. The record sales were different. But both are outstanding pieces of music, introducing outstanding musicians.

02 Spanish Pipedream

Second song on the album; second song in the key of G. But in Spanish Pipedream, John throws in a few D7s, just to mix it up a little bit. Even with the same general chord progression, though, this song is absolutely nothing like Illegal Smile. Spanish Pipedream is such a happy song. Upbeat. Catchy. Sweet. And, as is the case for many John Prine songs, there’s a moral to its story:

Blow up your TV, throw away your paper

Go to the country, build you a home

Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches

Try and find Jesus on your own

This was my favorite song on John Prine for a long time. It’s still one of my favorites—which means it’s tied with almost every other song on the album. But this song still stands out because of its infectious melody and its fun lyrics.

Nashville singer-songwriter, Matt Urmy, was particularly taken with the lyrics, saying this to Wide Open Country about Spanish Pipedream:

When I was really getting into studying songwriting, Prine’s ‘Spanish Pipedream’ really knocked me out … The verses told a story and painted crystal-clear images. ‘She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol…’, they’re very grounded, but fantastical at the same time. Then, on the chorus, he jumps up into the bigger, universal ideas.

And here’s what John Prine told Performing Songwriter about the lyrics in Spanish Pipedream:

Originally, the chorus wasn’t about blowing up your TV. It was something about the girls forgetting to take the pill, but sunk pretty low after that first great verse. I sounded like Loretta Lynn singing about the pill. Then I got the line blow up your TV. I used to keep a small bowl of real fine pebbles that I picked up on my mail route, and if somebody said something really stupid on TV I’d throw something at the screen.

This is the first of many John Prine songs that mention Jesus. I’m not sure if John was a believer, but I do believe that John found Jesus to be a compelling figure to write and sing about throughout his career.

03 Hello in There

This song didn’t jump out at me when I first heard John Prine. It’s certainly a pretty song. But I didn’t appreciate its meaning back in the day. I’m not sure what I thought that the song was about when I was younger, but, as the years went by, Hello in There took on mythical proportions. It’s now mentioned in almost every article about, and tribute to, John Prine. It’s considered one of his very best and most meaningful songs.

Here’s a young John Prine, in his early 20s, writing an accurate and empathetic song about the challenges of getting old. Who can imagine writing lyrics like this at such a young age?

So if you’re walking down the street sometime

And spot some hollow ancient eyes

Please don’t just pass ‘em by and stare

As if you didn’t care, say, Hello in there, hello

Hello in There is a song that Jason Scott references in his John Prine tribute, which was published in American Songwriter in April 2020. Scott writes:

From its organic, open-spaced arrangement to its timely, profound message, Hello in There only grows more urgent with every passing year. John Prine’s legacy casts a very long shadow, and a song such as this refocuses the meaning of life, love, and happiness in a stunning way.

And maybe the most poignant words about Hello in There come from Jason Isbell, one of America’s greatest singer-songwriters, who said this in a New York Times appreciation of John, also published in April 2020:

Hearing him sing [Hello in There] after decades of hard living and surviving numerous illnesses brought new meaning to the lyrics, now delivered by a man who had caught up with the character he created. John always said when he grew up, he wanted to be an old person.

Hello in There is also in the key of G. But the mood is set with the A minor and F chords throughout the song, which lend a dark, somber tone.

04 Sam Stone

Sam Stone might be the most famous of all of the famous John Prine songs. If you don’t know much about John Prine, you still might have heard Sam Stone at least once. It’s among the most honest and straightforward songs ever written about the Vietnam War.

John was drafted into the army in 1968, but he did not actually serve in Vietnam. Still, because many of his friends did, and because no one paid attention to people and the world quite like John Prine, Sam Stone is now anthem-like in its portrayal of the Vietnam-era soldiers. Or, as Jason Isbell said: John had the courage to write plainly about the darkest aspects of the American experience in songs like ‘Sam Stone,’ about a drug-addicted Vietnam veteran.

There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes

Jesus Christ died for nothin’ I suppose

Little pitchers have big ears

Don’t stop to count the years

Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios

Here’s what John said about Sam Stone in a 2010 interview with American Songwriter:

Well, I had just gotten out of the service myself. I always thought one of the great mistakes they made in the service is if they spent half the time