John Prine brought out a record this year, his first in thirteen years, that has fans and critics alike raving (and won the Artist of the Year Award at the Americana awards in Nashville). The best song on the record — or at least the prettiest — is Summer’s End, of which I cannot get enough.
As friend Cary Odes points out, the simplicity and ever-amusing lack of pretension of Prine’s writing leaves you open to get emotionally “walloped.” Love these lines esp:
Well I don’t know
But I can see
In your car
the windows are