Gabe Whitney congratulates his 11-year-old daughter, Lyla, after the family played Dear Abby by John Prine. My daughter teases me because there's some artists I go goo-goo about. She'll say I have a man-crush. I think John Prine is definitely one of them, Gabe joked. At right is Gabe's wife, Jennifer, and at left is their 16-year-old son, Quin. [JOHN PENDYGRAFT | Times]
The mayor of Gulfport was planning a tribute for singer John Prine, who was in intensive care, suffering from the coronavirus. At 6 p.m. Monday, residents were invited to step outside their homes, where everyone was quarantined, and play a Prine song. Or sing really loud.
“I thought the Prine family should know how near and dear they are to Gulfport, ” Mayor Sam Henderson wrote on his homepage. “Do some safe-distance hootin’ and hollerin’ … Show the love for them.”
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Prine, 73, has owned a home in Gulfport since 2005. He and his wife often spend time in their sea-green bungalow a block from the beach. Residents swap sightings of the songwriter at the carwash, eating pasta, jamming with local musicians.
For Whitney, the connection is personal. The first music he ever heard was John Prine’s; his dad played the early albums when Whitney was still in his crib. The first song he ever air-drummed to was one of Prine’s, when Whitney was in second grade. A Prine song helped Whitney woo his wife.
“He made me a better musician, better songwriter, better storyteller, ” Whitney said. “His descriptions are so simple, but in those people’s little lives, you see the larger world.”
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Prine was a Chicago mailman who started writing folky songs for his friends in the late 1960s. Eventually, they convinced him to perform at an open mic night, where Kris Kristofferson heard him. Kristofferson talked Prine into recording his first album, self-titled, in 1971 — which earned him a Grammy nomination for best new artist.
Over the next five decades, Prine recorded 21 more albums and won two Grammys. His basic chord progressions and poignant lyrics about life, love and loneliness have influenced musicians like Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash and Roger Waters.
“Prine’s stuff is pure Proustian existentialism, ” Dylan told the Huffington Post in 2009. He quoted Prine’s Sam Stone, “featuring the wonderfully evocative line: ‘There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes, and Jesus Christ died for nothing I suppose.’ Nobody but Prine could write like that.”
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In 1998, Prine got squamous cell cancer on the right side of his neck. Surgery damaged his tongue and salivary glands, but after a year of speech therapy, he was out singing again — with a much more gravelly voice. In 2013, he was diagnosed with cancer in his left lung, which was removed. Six months later, he was back on tour.
He was supposed to be performing in Australia next week. But on March 29, Prine’s wife and manager, Fiona Whelan Prine, tweeted that he had been hospitalized. “He needs our prayers and love, ” she wrote, “as do the thousands of others who are critically ill.”
Dozens of people shared the Gulfport mayor’s post, promising to participate. Soon others from across the country left messages. Everyone had a story about how Prine’s songs touched them, how much they need him now.
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From left, Roger Milam, 65, Rick Adams, 71, and Keith Bonvie, 61, sing and play John Prine songs in front of a Get Well banner. [JOHN PENDYGRAFT | Times]
“Okay, you all ready? Let’s figure this out, ” Whitney said outside his home at 5:50 p.m. Monday. He had set a music stand in the front yard, propped his phone on it to record.
He had wanted to sing That’s The Way The World Goes ’Round. Lyla likes It’s A Big Old Goofy World. Quin prefers Led Zeppelin.
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They had started hanging out when they were in middle school. Every time they made out, she got nervous and her belly rumbled. So he played Prine’s song that includes the line, “My stomach makes noises whenever we kiss.” Jennifer fell in love with the music, and Whitney. They’re 44 and 43 now.
When their son was 4, he begged to learn guitar. Whitney tried to get him lessons, but no one would take a student that young. So Whitney quit his job at a private investigation company and started a music school in downtown St. Petersburg. He named it after another line from Dear Abby: Noisemakers. Whitney teaches all his students John Prine songs.
In other yards around Gulfport, people pulled beach chairs into a circle and sang Illegal Smile. A couple wearing face masks stood beneath their homemade banner: “Dear John, Get Well Soon, signed Gulfport, and Rick and Roger.” Their neighbor pulled out a guitar, set up an amp and played Hello In There while his new bride sipped white wine and sang along.
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People riding bikes, walking their dogs, strolling to the park stopped to listen. A man on a motorcycle honked and waved. A toddler in a pink tutu danced in the grass.
Whitney strummed guitar on his steps, singing to his wife and kids, hoping, somehow, the karma would help his hero. In a world of lock-downs and looming uncertainty, Prine’s lyrics seemed more prescient than ever:
The Tampa Bay Times e-Newspaper is a digital replica of the printed paper seven days a week that is available to read on desktop, mobile, and our app for subscribers only. To enjoy the e-Newspaper every day, please subscribe.At any given song circle, open mic, or other gathering of guitar pickers and singers, it usually won’t be long until someone breaks into a John Prine song. From “Paradise” to “Angel from Montgomery” to “In Spite of Ourselves, ” Prine’s songs are essential repertoire in the country/folk/Americana songbook, because they are both accessible and unforgettable. With the simplest ingredients—a handful of chords, a rough-hewn voice with limited range—Prine created evocative stories-in-song that could be poignant, profound, and funny as hell.
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Prine’s place in the pantheon of American songwriting became clear when the hard news hit in April that he’d passed away, at 73, due to complications from the coronavirus. His health had long been poor, as he endured multiple bouts with cancer, but Prine had delivered the warm and wise album
In 2018—the highest-charting release of his career—followed by triumphant touring, and it seemed like his music would keep coming. In the weeks following his death, tributes poured in from generations of artists: Bonnie Raitt, Roger Waters, Jason Isbell, Sturgill Simpson, Brandi Carlile, Dave Matthews, Jeff Tweedy, Kacey Musgraves, and on and on. The words that stuck with me most came from country/folk singer-songwriter Iris DeMent, Prine’s long-time friend and frequent collaborator.
“John Prine was, without a doubt, one of the greatest songwriters this world will ever know, ” DeMent wrote on Facebook. “Here’s why he rests on my heart’s mountaintop: Because he cared enough to look—at me, you, all of us—until he saw what was noble, and then he wrapped us up in melodies and sung us back to ourselves. That was the miracle of John Prine. And it was enough.”
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Prine was known most of all for his lyrical gifts, but the foundation of all his music was his flattop guitar, which he strummed and fingerpicked with a few classic styles that provided everything he needed to accompany a lifetime of songs. This lesson takes a tour of Prine’s music by way of his guitar style, using examples drawn from some of his most-loved songs. As with every aspect of his music, Prine managed to make simple guitar patterns distinctive. Even without the melody and words, the guitar parts sound like songs.
In 1970, journalist Roger Ebert happened to walk into a Chicago folk club called the Fifth Peg and caught a set by Prine, who had only started performing the year before and worked by day as a mail carrier. Ebert was astounded to hear the young, unassuming singer deliver songs like “Angel from Montgomery” (see Acoustic Classic on page 62 of the print and digital edition) and “Hello in There, ” and he wrote a full-page review for the
Ebert quoted the devastating chorus of “Sam Stone, ” Prine’s portrait of a drug-addicted veteran: “There’s a hole in Daddy’s arm where all the money goes.” Ebert wrote, “You hear lyrics like these, perfectly fitted to Prine’s quietly confident style and his ghost of a Kentucky accent, and you wonder how anyone could have so much empathy and still be looking forward to his 24th birthday.” Anyone spinning Prine’s self-titled debut from the following year would have to wonder the same thing—how could any songwriter deliver songs with such depth, maturity, and emotional range seemingly right out of the gate?
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Prine was steeped in early country music, from the Carter Family to Hank Williams, and had learned old-time styles through his older brother. In “Paradise, ” one of the many gems from his debut album, Prine so successfully tapped into traditional sounds that even bluegrass patriarch Bill Monroe initially mistook it for a song from the ’20s. In 1967, when Prine
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