If you've had enough of a sociopathic world, take a break with this sweet sliver of hope, wit and beauty: Next week, John Prine, 71-year-old good ole boy, cancer survivor, chronicler of small weird lives and master of the poignant, lustrous, soulful song lyric - "naked as the eyes of a clown" - releases his first collection of original songs in 13 years, titled The Tree Of Forgiveness. Give a listen, thank the gods.
Thank you John, for many years of wonderful music. Just pre-ordered you new album on iTunes! It’s been a while, but it was worth the wait!
Thanks, CD, for this wonderful respite from the world. John Prine is a living legend, one of the best songwriters of the last 50 years - or more. Watching him here, still playing new songs, brings tears to my eyes.
I had the good fortune to hear John Prine a couple of times, at the Earl of Old Town back in the 70’s, in Chcago. The owner of the Earl stopped serving drinks during the music, he was more concerned that listeners could hear this poet than making money at the bar. John was just a few tables away, no mics and amps that I can recall. So good to have him back - he has added immeasurable pleasure, wry humor and truth to my life.
Thanks to CD for this piece, and John Prine for all the years of healing from the joy and sorrow he has given us with his brilliant music. John and his music are true American treasures…empty pop bottles
I was in Norfolk VA, waiting to ship out as OS for the first time in 1968, when I found a music club with the unfortunate name, “Folk Ghetto.” It had a similar policy, even going so far as to place the cash register on the other side of the doors from the main floor. Such respect for the players—AND the audience—was rare even then, and unheard of now as far as I know.
Thanks for this one CD! Much needed.
Prine + Townes Van Zandt
Prine, Townes, Kris Kristofferson, Steve Earle and Guy Clark were all hanging around together in Austin in the 70s; Townes is a master, but I don’t think John takes a back seat to any of them. Thanks for the video.
Fifteen minutes and change that made me smile.
I was in Austin for most of the '80s. When asked where I’m from (and I’ve lived in quite a few places) the answer is always “I’ll say Austin”. Oh to be young again and in Austin, that is my fantasy.
May 24 - June 10, 2018: Kerrville Folk Festival
I have dreams of going to play there someday; we’ll see.
I first fell into Prine’s orbit with John Denver’s version of Paradise. Once I was schooled on the term “ear worm”, I knew its origin for me. I had the privilege of knowing Larry Gibson, who had a heart of gold.
I wish you the best of luck. Sing the truth; it’s your best bet.
Bill Murry’s message to John Prine.
I shook hands with John Prine one day in SF. Two men dressed all in black had just gotten out of a long black limousine and one had a guitar. They were walking towards me when it dawned on me, oh crap that is John Prine. All I could say was welcome to San Francisco. It is still a pivotal memory, one of the best.
John Prine, Baybeee! Saw ya at in Lyons, CO when I worked for Planet Bluegrass, at their Folk festival, 'bout 2001? Friday the 13th, release date? lol 13 years since yer last one? You never quit, do ya! lol
Love, from Outdoor Bob.
I once read that Kristofferson paid John Prine a compliment that was meant to be taken in the very best way - “John writes songs as if he was 200 years old.” I used to play his songs on my guitar and “Paradise” could being tears to my eyes. Also, the name Loretta from this song was also used as the name of the wife of the old man in “Hello In There” about aged people and how they go unnoticed and forgotten in our country.
John Prine is a singular talent.
“And your flag decal won’t get you into heaven any more, its already overcrowded from your dirty little war, and Jesus don’t like killin, no matter what the reasons for…”
If this song is on the new release, Prine will need to revise “dirty little war” to ETERNAL WAR !
Yes. Another verse bears repeating, about some cowboy from Kennebunkport (or wherever):
“Some humans ain’t human
Some people ain’t kind
You open up their hearts
And here’s what you’ll find
A few frozen pizzas
Some ice cubes with hair
A busted Popsicle
You don’t wanna go there.”
Yes he is. He taps into real human lives and emotions as few others can