
Whenever there is talk about the greatest singer/songwriters in rock history, the usual suspects are always named: Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Brian Wilson, Smokey Robinson, etc. Any such discussion, however, is incomplete without the mention of John Prine .
During his nearly two-hour performance on Wednesday (4/22) at the lovely Sunset Center in Carmel, CA, the 62-year-old Prine gave the capacity crowd 20 excellent reasons (i.e., songs) for why he should be ranked among popular music's all-time great wordsmiths.
Kicking off the show with the sing-along favorite "Spanish Pipedream," Prine proceeded to mix humor and sorrow, joy and frustration, as naturally in his songs as they blend in real life. That ability is the No. 1 thing that separates Prine from most other folk-rockers. There's not another guy (or gal) on the planet, with or without a guitar in hand, that can take a listener from being teary-eyed one moment to giggling the next as quickly, and as convincingly, as John Prine.
The emotional rollercoaster of song continued with the bleak relationship tale "Speed of the Sound of Loneliness"--during which Prine moaned out in his throaty voice, "How can a love that will last forever be left so far behind?"--and then moved right onto comedic "Please Don't Bury Me," in which Prine details his last will and testament through a series of one-liners (the best being: "Give my stomach to Milwaukee if they run out of beer.")
That pacing held up through the entire night. Before a touching, sad tale like "Far From Me" could stop ringing in one's mind, Prine would already be lifting spirits with a catchy country-flavored number like "Fish and Whistle."
The set list consisted mainly of longtime favorites, songs you'd find on the highly recommended Rhino Records compilation "The John Prine Anthology: Great Days," but there were some newer offerings that held up quite nicely in direct comparison to the older numbers.
Two of the better new tunes, "Glory of True Love" and "Crazy as a Loon," hailed from 2005's "Fair and Square," which won for Best Contemporary Folk Album at the 48th Grammy Awards. Then, of course, there was "Lake Marie" from 1995's "Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings"--which still ranks as a fairly new record in John Prine terms. That song, an equal balance of poignancy and punch lines, was greeted with the same type of enthusiasm by the crowd as such early '70s classics as "Hello in There" and "Sam Stone."
It was a great night of music delivered by a true American treasure, yet it was one that also left the crowd wanting in one regard:
Isn't it about time that Prine put out a new album?