BY TOM BRENNAN 

John Prine would have turned 74 on October 10th. He died of Covid on April 7th in Nashville. Years earlier he had lost a lung. A bout with cancer in 1998 damaged his vocal cords. This put him at the center of the Covid bullseye. None of this prevented him from being a prolific singer-songwriter, almost to the end.

He was more than just another guitarist and country-folk singer and lyricist.  He sang in a raspy voice that still had a way of  subtly and affectionately conveying a wide range of irony, tragedy, folly, humor, and longing.  So did his lyrics. His health problems actually seemed to season his voice.  When a doctor warned Prine he might never sing again, Prince’s droll reply was  “Doc, you’ve never heard me sing, have you?”

Stars like Bette Midler (Hello in there) and Bonnie Raitt (Angel from Montgomery) made songs Prine wrote their own.  Hello in There captured the pathos of a couple of aging and lonely empty  nesters, their boy killed in war, other friends and family scattered. Angel from Montgomery was about a working class woman making the best of limited horizons and an unhappy marriage.

Others were more famous, or became more wealthy. Almost to the end, Prine was selling records at his appearances, joking that he felt like a small time salesman, as he enthusiastically mentored younger artists.

Prine was also one of the most influential and brilliant  lyricists of his time, and that’s not bad.

Raised in the Chicago suburb of Maywood, Ill. in a country music loving family, Prine learned  the guitar as a teenager. After the Army, and work as a mailman, Prine was dragged to some  clubs in Chicago, by Steve Goodman.  He and Goodman were still learning their craft in those days. This led to some after hours performances for Kris Kristofferson. Weeks later, performing at the Bitter End in Greenwich Village with Carly Simon, Kristofferson invited Prine on stage from the audience. Kristofferson later joked that Prine was so good he might have to break Prine’s thumbs.  Dylan was a fan.

Prine wrote Unwed Fathers for Tammy Wynette, and Love is on a Roll for Don Williams. Johnny Cash, the Everly Brothers, John Mellencamp, Bruce Springsteen, Carly Simon, John Denver, and George Strait all worked with him. Jason Isbell and Kacey Musgraves named a song after him. Rolling Stone called him the Mark Twain of American songwriters.

As with many other formative experiences, my older brothers introduced me to Prine.  Sweet Revenge was my favorite Prine album. I felt it captured both Prine’s mischief, an eye for detail and surreal humor from the commonplace I would later associate with Seinfeld, as well as a feel for complex emotion. On the latter topic, either the Germans have a word for it, or Prine wrote a song about it.

In A Good Time he wrote

” And you know I could have me a million more friends, and all I’d have to lose is my point of view.”

In Sam Stone he tracks the decline of a drug addicted Vietnam vet through his little girl’s eyes. Your Flag Decal won’t get you into Heaven Anymore he skewers spurious patriotism.

Prine always insisted that Illegal Smile was not about pot. Right. Jesus, the Missing years is self explanatory.  Dear Abby imagines the perky mid 20th century advice columnist having finally had it up to here with other people’s problems. He is survived by his wife of 24 years, Prine and Iris DeMent shared vocals on the title track of his album In Spite of Ourselves, a ribald salute to an older married couple.

Please Don’t Bury Me addressed practical questions related to mortality.

”Please don’t bury me, down in the cold cold ground
No, I’d druther have em cut me up,  and pass me all around
Throw my brain in a hurricane, and the blind can have my eyes
And the deaf can take both of my ears, if they don’t mind the size.”

Prine was raised near Chicago, but summered in Paradise, Kentucky. His ashes were divided between his parents resting place in Illinois and the Green River in Kentucky.