Chuck, John & tour manager Mitchel – Summer 2019 (photo courtesy of Chuck Morris)
From John Prine (on writing an award-winning, long lasting song) “You just sit and look around you. You don’t have to make up stuff. If you just try to take down the bare description of what’s going on, and not try to over-describe something, then it leaves space for the reader or the listener to fill in their experience with it, and they become part of it.”
From Chuck Morris: John Prine passed this afternoon – a great friend since 1970 and a great artist. I will miss him so. Feel better that I’ve been communicating daily with his wonderful wife [Fiona]. So many loved him, especially here in Colorado .
First had John and his great friend Steve Goodman at one of my first shows at Tulagi in the early seventies. [I] instantly became great friends to both and now they’re both gone. My other great friend Jeff Hanna (from the Dirt Band) called and said it best: “John and Steve and The Dirt Band and Bonnie Raitt and me and Harry Tuft and Ray Benson and Leo Kottke and a bunch more all got started about the same time and we had an informal club – joined at the hip by our love of each of their music and then as people.” So true.
# # # # #
Gil Asakawa: RIP John Prine. Shit, I feel terrible over this news. What a loss — the singer-songwriter was a giant in folk and country and rock music, and a sweetheart to boot. His death seems so premature, unnecessary. Thoughts go out to his family and his family of fans….
# # # # #
From Dan Treanor re John Prine: I think it was 1971 maybe 72′, a long time ago. Tulagis, midnight show. I got a place right up by the stage. The place was packed with hippies and what not. Up on the stage, on a small wooden table was a fifth of Jack Daniels. It was surrounded on both sides by a couple of acoustic guitars on stands. Out walked Steve Goodman and John Prine. They strapped on their guitars. Steve picked up the Jack Daniels bottle. John reached over and twisted off the top. He tossed it into the crowd. Steve said “we ain’t gonna’ need that anymore”. Steve took a big swig, passed it to John. He probably downed about a quarter of that bottle in one giant gulp. You could have hear a pin drop in the crowd. John put the bottle back on the table. They then proceeded to create one of the greatest musical and spiritual experiences I have ever had. John sang a song, Steve sang a song then they would do one together. I felt joy, I shed tears, they rocked my soul. By the end of the set that bottle of Jack Daniels was empty. I was empty also. Empty of sadness, negativity, all the bullshit that life can throw at you sometimes. I was just a couple of years back from Nam’, in a dark place. When I walked out of Tulagis that night my heart was full of joy. I remember that moment like it was yesterday. A light has left the world that IMO can never be replaced. Thank you John and you also Steve. Got no more words.
# # # # #
From Jay Bianci: “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” ~ Henry David Thoreau
There is an artist that no matter what throughout the years without fail was always on the jukebox at Sanchos Broken Arrow. Oh I know the answer you may say, and yes you are correct it is the Grateful Dead, but there is another one that always made the cut no matter what. John Prine was our favorite and we all loved him, but he caused us so much problems because we could never find a song that we all liked the best. We all concurred he was great, but we would argue over what song was our favorite. We all had a different song that moved us in different ways. So instead of just listening to one song we would listen to them all. We all went into our different worlds and he pulled on our heartstrings in different ways. He was a good friend that made you happy even as you were sad. He would sing songs that were full hope even is they recalled the saddest situations. There were songs of quiet desperation which connected us all. My mom would call and tell me how much she loved him ( and sometimes she would say she loved me too). I came back to see my brother and he was sitting at the bar, just thinking, listening to our friend John Prine tell us about the world. Sadness was part of his songs, but in those moments he sang what needed to be said and what we couldn’t say to each other. Brothers could be brothers, we could be sad in our own world and together in our feelings without saying a word. He was so concise and succinct in his words and imagery and could tell a whole story in a single lyric. It was so amazing how he could make his words evoke so much and paint such a beautiful, detailed description of life. He was an inspiration and i will always carry him in my heart.
He gave us songs that helped me survive and helped me feel that I was not alone in the world.
Thank you, John Prine, for helping me connect to the rest of the world, for making me feel that I never was alone. Thanks for the songs that guide me through this life and let me cry and let me be myself. Thanks for lifting that quiet desperation into a living and breathing song.
Fare thee well, my friend!