31 October 2005, a Monday, and I had a note in my diary that John Prine was playing Shepherds Bush Empire, but had no ticket. I think Lucy was away, and I decided to go on a last minute whim. The good thing about the unreserved seating in the circle is that the couples and groups tend to leave the odd seat between them, so, if you go on your own, you have a good chance of getting a spot in the front row — which I did. Pole position at short notice: looking good.
It kept getting better. Within an hour or so the hairs on the back of my neck were standing to attention. And they stayed that way for the next hour and a bit. Can my memory that Prine only had two other guys on the stage with him be right? I know they went off several times for him to do short solo sets. JP just kept going, songs flooding out of him like he was the sluice gates on some enormous dam. There weren't any that I recognised, but I loved what I heard at first listen. On and on they kept coming.
The memory that will always stay with me was towards the end of the main set, the first time I heard Lake Marie. What a song! It was obviously a favourite as the crowd downstairs were anticipating parts like the 'ssssss' for the sizzlin' sausages, and answering the question "You know what blood looks like in a black and white video?" Just phenomenal economy in the narrative of the song, combined with descriptive detail and lots of quickfire elisions and jumpcuts (like Neil Young does on songs like Misfits, only — it has to be said — better). Just try on this verse:
Many years later I found myself talking to this girl
Who was standing there with her back turned to Lake Marie
The wind was blowing, especially through her hair
There was four Italian sausages cooking on the outdoor grill
And man, they was ssssssssizzlin'
Many years later we found ourselves in Canada
Trying to save our marriage; and perhaps catch a few fish,
Whatever seemed easier
That night she fell asleep in my arms
Humming the tune to Louie Louie
Aah baby, we gotta go now.
Brings water to my eye, just reading it, and remembering the fantastic phrasing of the delivery.
Anyway, Lake Marie isn't on this album: I had to download it from iTunes. But I bought this CD on the way out at the end of that show, and listened to it plenty in the weeks that followed. There's something about the songs that makes them sound completely unforced, as well. Country musicians have that knack: I heard Mary Gauthier talking about songs being out there in the ether, and songwriter's job was just to birth them into the human world. That's what John Prine's songs sound like. By comparison Tom Robinson's songs sound like they've been made not born, and worried over plenty in the making. I know my writing usually reads like that, too: there's no question that some fussy brain has been sticking its oar in at every opportunity. While John Prine's brain sounds like it was out the back having a fag when the songs crept in and made themselves at home right there on the rug. I wonder if he has to work really, really hard to get that effect…
Maybe the brain was out the back, but it's not above a nudge and a wink, as on Crazy as a Loon:
Pretty soon I met a woman
Pretty soon she done me wrong
Pretty soon my life got sadder
Than any country song
Could be Stephin Merritt, that.
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