(AP Photo: John Humphrey)
Folk icon John Prine died earlier this year, leaving behind decades of influential work and a legion of artists who carry on the style he helped pioneer.
John Prine died on April 7, 2020 from complications caused by COVID-19. He was 73 years old.
Often referred to as one of the greatest songwriters in American history, he reached his peak in popularity near the end of his career, and his legacy will continue to grow. He leaves behind his wife and two children, along with every life he invented through his songs.
Following a stint in the army that would go on to inform much of his writing, Prine began his career in the late 1960s, performing alone with his guitar at open-mic nights at a small Chicago club called the Fifth Peg. He was immediately offered paid gigs, and gained notoriety in the local area following a chance encounter and glowing review from Roger Ebert. He began to play at more clubs across the city, quickly becoming one of the figures in the folk revival scene.
Prine released his self-titled debut in 1971, garnering little commercial success but establishing himself as one of the most important musicians in folk. The songs were witty, political, and relatable, demonstrating his ability to seamlessly weave haunting tragedy and biting satire with romance and simple beauty. The album was filled with ruminations on war and patriotism, with songs “Your American Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore” and “Sam Stone” criticising America’s actions in Korea and Vietnam, and the government’s exploitation of soldiers. Lyrics like “But your flag decal won’t get you Into Heaven anymore, they’re already overcrowded from your dirty little war” tapped into a disillusion many Americans felt at the time, and resonate currently with American disgust at the wars fought in the middle east for the past twenty years.
Prine’s song “Illegal Smile” connected with drug users, a group that overlapped greatly with antiwar protestors at the time. Although he later admitted the song wasn’t written about marijuana smoking, the lyrics “And you may see me tonight with an illegal smile, it don’t cost very much, but it lasts a long while. Won’t you please tell the man I didn’t kill anyone, no I’m just trying to have me some fun” spoke to smokers who seeked escapism in the way Prine described. Drug use was a theme across many of the songs in the album, but he often discussed them with a darker tone.
The themes came together in the standout track “Sam Stone,” a song that told the story of a drug addicted disabled veteran who received a Purple Heart for his time in Vietnam. The tragically beautiful lyric “There’s a hole in Daddy’s arm where all the money goes, Jesus Christ died for nothin’, I suppose” is just one example of Prine’s ability to boil down the tragedy of a universal American experience to a single line. He could connect with anyone who listened to him though, as his dark lyrics came with beautiful, simple chords, and were often cut with humor. “Illegal Smile,” for example, ends with the simple “Well done, hot dog bun, my sister’s a nun,” bringing back his audience from the bleak story he just laid upon them.
He continued to release music consistently throughout the 1970s, building his commercial success and maintaining his critical stature. He hit the Billboard Hot 100 for the first time with 1975’s “Come Back to Us Barbara Lewis Hare Krishna Beauregard,” and went on a tour across the country. By the end of the decade though, he had grown disgusted with the exploitation found across the music industry, leading him to found his own label, Oh Boy Records, in 1981. At that point, many of his most well known songs became popular through covers by acts like The Highwaymen. His talent was plainly recognizable to his contemporaries, and through them he began to build a legacy as a “songwriter’s songwriter.”
He continued to release original albums until 2005’s Fair &Square, after which he took a pause from full length albums. He spent the next decade working with younger artists and performing for younger crowds, filled with a new generation discovering him for themselves for the first time. In 2018, he released his final solo album, The Tree of Forgiveness. The album sold over 50,000 copies in its first week, debuting at #5 on the Billboard album chart, by far his highest ever. His final song, “I Remember Everything,” was a rumination on his career, recounting all of the places he’d performed, artists he’d worked with, and beautiful times he’d experienced throughout his life.
Though he hadn’t released an album of new material for over thirteen years, his profile had grown immensely, in part due to the success of those he mentored in the industry. The album featured contributions from Jason Isbell, Amanda Shires, Dan Auerbach, and Brandi Carlile, all of whom are successful artists who credit Prine as a major inspiration to their own work. It is in this way that Prine’s legacy will continue to grow, constantly exposing him to a new generation of fans, including myself.
When an artist is so influential, there is often a generational delay before the full scope of their influence can be recognized. Although they are not appreciated by most fans during their creative peak, artists take notice, and find great influence in their work. When the next generation finds success, they will bring their idols along with them, leading to a revival of the original work. For Prine, this cycle materialized through his mentorship and shared live performances with many of the most talented artists in current country and folk music. Following his death, Kacey Musgraves said Prine “impacted [her] songwriting more than anyone else.” Sturgill Simpson, Jason Isbell, and Margo Price all participated in tribute concerts for him as well. I mention these four names because they also occupy spots one through four on Paste Magazine’s top country albums of the decade. John Prine helped to shape the modern sound of country music, and his fingerprints can be found across myriad projects, constantly expanding his reach.
Following this year’s Country Music Awards, Isbell and fellow singer Amanda Shires announced that they would be returning their lifetime memberships to the Country Music Association due to their failure to mention John Prine during the show. The tension between the singers and establishment is emblematic of the gap between Prine’s adoration among the music community and in the general public. For the CMA’s whose goal is to make money and appeal to as wide a reach of people as possible, avoiding Prine is a decision that sacrifices integrity for commercial success. Whether they wanted to avoid discussing the coronavirus due to its politicization, or didn’t want to bring him up due to his anti war and anti republican messaging, they made it clear that many areas of the industry are still lagging behind the innovation Prine has brought since the 70s. This only makes him connect with those who care about more though. Isbell wrote that they were giving up their memberships because “we cared a lot about our heroes.” Sturgill Simpson didn’t hold back in his response, writing “Don’t get it twisted,.. wouldn’t be caught dead at this tacky ass glitter and botox cake & cock pony show even if my chair had a morphine drip. … I just wanted to see if they would say his name but nope.”
The omission of Prine reflects more on the CMAs than it does on his career. The Grammy’s gave Prine a lifetime achievement award in 2019, and the DNC used his music to soundtrack a tribute to those lost to the Coronavirus, but the show dedicated to country music didn’t mention him. Already facing backlash for advertising the show as a “no drama” night (during a pandemic, massive civil rights movement, and contested election,) the CMAs showed that they care more about appearing accessible than being honest. In a genre built on storytelling, the artists proved that they have the final say in who lives on. I was able to discover Prine through a tribute by Phoebe Bridgers, and then through cover after cover from a dozen other artists I love, regardless of any omissions by the CMAs (a show I would never watch anyway.) Because of the time he spent working with and influencing other artists, his legacy will continue, and his characters will live on. When his self titled debut turns fifty next year, the story of Sam Stone will as well, and every veteran he represents will have their stories told a little bit more thanks to him. This is the legacy of John Prine: by weaving his own truths into songs everyone can relate to, he will live on through the stories told by those he inspired.