Front to back albums are a beautiful thing. And while every little thing passes, it’s beautiful to look at what others choose to leave behind.

John Prine’s inaugural album is one that will never leave the golden place within my heart. This is one of those pieces of art that you grow beside. And despite being a recording from the past, my relationship with this album doesn’t feel one way. Instead, it’s a conversation over a period of a lifetime. How special that feels! At this moment on the 25th of January 2024, I’m listening to the amazing album Mingus Ah Um, but considering I’ve been thinking about John Prine a lot lately, it’s about time to put that 1971 haystack on.

No matter where I am in the world, the moment I hear Illegal Smile, the opening track, I feel at home. Maybe it’s the warm and nasally vocals, maybe it’s that simple fingerpicking pattern, or a simple way of story telling, but regardless I find myself feeling empathy and connection to the story Prine illustrates.

I think a key attribute of Prine’s writing is that I find him savoring and romanticizing a way of life that is smaller. In a world where just about everyone wants more, {wine brings beauty to the little things. Perhaps Illegal Smile is about drugs, but I’ve always liked to think that it’s Prine emphasizing that a whole world can go wrong, but no one can take away your ability to smile, even when you have no reason to. In Spanish Pipedream, an unlikely duo find their own slice of heaven once they disconnect from the outside world and decide to move to the country and build a home. Maybe all you need in order to feel fulfillment is a little piece of the world to share with those you care for.

Prices storytelling abilities seem to articulate how despite being a society set on process, many issues remain far from resolved as time passes. Sam Stone in particular sticks out to me as issues of insufficient veteran resources and opiate addiction has only increased in severity in America. This is one of the saddest songs and tales that I have heard one, despite the major key and swing to the tune. It reminds me of Demon Copperhead, a Barbara Kingsolver book that does an incredible job of showing an unromanticized account of how the opioid epidemic rampaged through marginalized communities such as those in Appalachia.

The song that has had the greatest role on my life is undoubtedly Paradise. For me, this will go down as a time that solidified Print as Kentucky Royalty. Along with Yellow Submarine, Paradise is one of the first songs to enter my psyche. We used to sing it at Community Montessori all the time. Each year when my family would go to a different state park with 5 or 6 other families, we would play music out of the Great American Songbook. These song sessions were led by Karen and Bev, but all participated! It’s amazing to think about what feels so normalized when you’re young, but later on life you realize how unique those little experiences are. There’s not many people that learned anti-coal industry tunes when they were in the single digits.

I look forward to growing with this album for the rest of my life, and watching how my relationship with it shifts as a result of my life experiences. I predict that Angel From Montgomery will only get me more choked up and teary eyed as time passes by.