Tuesday, April 14, 2020

On the Prine bench


A belated tribute to the late John Prine.

I came to John Prine late in life.

Mostly thanks to Alexa, Pandora and Mark Knopfler. You see, part of my morning routine takes me out to my garage/home gym. I'm out there 6 days a week. Twice a day. Weightlifting in the morning. Cardio on the stationary bike and stair stepper at night. For all that rigorous exercise I still resemble the Michelin man.

A Michelin man who can bench 245 lbs. (when there is a spotter).

Before my workout begins, I tell Alexa to play Mark Knopfler on Pandora radio. If you're familiar with the algorithmic patterns of Pandora you know they will play a few Knopfler songs. Followed by some Dire Straits. Followed by a a string of tangential musicians Alexa believes you might like. Followed by a 15 second radio commercial about these two women harping about their sleep by number bed.

Pandora would do themselves a favor to hire professional radio commercial writers. Their's suck.

And that's when I began hearing more and more John Prine. That's also when I usually take a break in my routine to listen to his melodic words. And I can actually hear the words. I think many songwriters do themselves no favors by wrapping their words with frantic guitar solos, heavy drum beats or a singing style that makes half the prose undistinguishable. I'm looking at you Zimmerman.

Not Prine.

You make me unlonely
I feel like the only
person in the world
that ever had a girl like you

Hopefully that will get me out of Debbi's doghouse. She's still mad at me for letting the sourdough starter kit get out of control all over our kitchen last night.

The funny thing is, I should have discovered Prine a long, long time ago, when I was a line cook at a steakhouse/nightclub.

Friday and Saturday nights we had live bands. And I always enjoyed hanging out backstage with the musicians. One of my favorite bands included Dan Crow, who is still a Facebook friend. They sang original songs but would occasionally do cover songs. Including the works of John Prine.

They were big fans. And had I taken their advice I would have been too.

Perhaps it's time I start opening myself up and start listening to the sage advice of others.

But I don't care what anyone says, I'm not eating beets.



1 comment:

Théo said...

When I was 16 I worked at a restaurant/bar above a 100-year-old butcher shop. A couple nights a week they had a band that played several John Prine songs a night. But I had already been a fan since the age of ten.

Hot dog bun.

My sister's a nun.