Paradise – PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture

Ever since I wrote up the John Prine song Paradise (thanks to halffastcyclingclub) I knew then I had to write up the album. This album is very daunting to write up. If one person listens to it, then my job is done. It is one of the best debut albums I’ve ever heard in rock, pop, country, folk, or anything else. I’m truly ashamed I didn’t dive into John Prine sooner. I knew some of his well-known songs like Dear Abbey, Angel From Montgomery, and a few other songs of his, but it was the song Paradise that totally won me over. Like the old lyric I remember from a long time ago…listening to this album is like taking a trip without leaving the farm.

John Prine was working as a mailman in Chicago, delivering letters by day and sharpening songs by night. He began playing open mics at the Old Town School of Folk Music, where his storytelling and humor transfixed the audience. One night in 1970, Kris Kristofferson wandered in, heard Prine sing Sam Stone, and reportedly told his record label mates he’d just seen “the best songwriter I’ve ever heard.” That moment changed everything for Prine.

Atlantic Records moved quickly, pairing Prine with producer Arif Mardin, a surprising choice. Mardin, known for polished soul and pop productions. He immediately understood that these songs didn’t need a big production. Sessions were kept deliberately restrained, focusing on clarity and feel rather than polish. Many of the songs were already road-tested long before they were recorded. Hello In There, Sam Stone, and Paradise had been perfected in coffeehouses and small clubs

At 24 years old, he plays thirteen songs that feel lived in, warm, sly, funny, haunted, and most importantly, human. There is one thing I found out about this album. On first listen, I thought it was charming. On the tenth, it is devastating. On the twentieth, it feels like a friend you have known your whole life, and I’m not exaggerating.

Right from the opener Illegal Smile, Prine is already telling you “Last time I checked my bankroll, it was gettin’ thin, Sometimes it seems like the bottom is the only place I’ve been”. Then comes Spanish Pipedream, which practically bursts out of the speakers, preaching the joys of ditching society’s noise. blowing up your TV, and finding your own piece of mind. But the album’s heart and soul song runs deeper. Sam Stone, with its unforgettable line “there’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes,” still lands like a gut punch.

And then, of course, there is Angel from Montgomery. If Prine had written only that one song, he would still have ended up on songwriter Mount Rushmore. I won’t go over every song, but if you like great lyrics and great melodies, this is the album for you. Google the lyrics on this fine Sunday and sing along with John Prine. It will be a beautiful Sunday…trust me on that. My personal favorites? Paradise, Sam Stone, Illegal Smile, Angel from Montgomery, and…ah, just listen to them all.

Sam Stone

Sam StoneCame homeTo his wife and familyAfter serving in the conflict overseasAnd the time that he servedHad shattered all his nervesAnd left a little shrapnel in his kneeBut the morphine eased the painAnd the grass grew ’round his brainAnd gave him all the confidence he lackedWith a Purple Heart and a monkey on his back

There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goesAnd Jesus Christ died for nothin’, I supposeLittle pitchers have big earsDon’t stop to count the yearsSweet songs never last too long on broken radiosMmm-hmm-hmm-hmm

Sam Stone’s welcome homeDidn’t last too longHe went to work when he’d spent his last dimeAnd soon he took to stealin’When he got that empty feelin’For a hundred dollar habit without overtimeAnd the gold rolled through his veinsLike a thousand railroad trainsAnd eased his mind in the hours that he choseWhile the kids ran around wearin’ other people’s clothes

Sam Stone was aloneWhen he popped his last balloonClimbing walls while sittin’ in a chairWell, he played his last requestWhile the room smelled just like deathWith an overdose hoverin’ in the air

But life had lost its funAnd there was nothin’ to be doneBut trade his house that he bought on the G.I. BillFor a flag draped casket on a local heroes’ hill

There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goesAnd, Jesus Christ died for nothin’, I supposeLittle pitchers have big earsDon’t stop to count the yearsSweet songs never last too long on broken radiosMmm-hmm-hmm-hmmHmmHmm-hmm-hmm-hmm

I want to thank halffastcyclingclub for bringing this song up when reading the Levon Helm post called The Mountain I posted last week. I’d never heard it and fell for it immediately. I listened to it over and over again. Such a cool vibe of looking back in this song.

The song is not just a song, it’s a family photograph yellowing at the edges, the kind you keep tucked in a drawer and only pull out when you’re feeling brave enough to remember. Written for his parents, and about a real place in Kentucky that no longer exists the way it used to. We can all relate to this. I grew up in a small city in Tennessee, and it’s completely different now than it was when I grew up. Sometimes progress is good and sometimes not.

I don’t usually dissect songs, but this one hit me. Prine was only in his mid-twenties when he wrote it, but he already sounded like someone who’d lived a dozen lives. It’s not just a memory, it’s a eulogy with a banjo. “And daddy won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County / Down by the Green River where Paradise lay…”
And the punchline comes just a beat later:
“…Well I’m sorry my son, but you’re too late in askin’ / Mr. Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away.”

That’s it right there. Prine gives you a warm hug and slips a dagger in your back before the first verse is out. It’s a protest song in overalls, gentle, but furious. Not angry, but quietly heartbroken. He’s not shouting down injustice; he’s telling you what it feels like when the land your family once lived on gets strip-mined out of existence.

This song was the fifth track on his 1971 debut album, which is ridiculous when you think about it. As young as he was, and writing a song like this. Plenty of artists have covered Paradise. Dwight Yoakam, John Denver, John Fogerty, even the Everly Brothers, but none of them touch the original. Because it wasn’t just a song to Prine. It was a love letter to something that couldn’t love him back anymore.

Lynn Anderson released it in 1975, and it was the most commercially successful release. It peaked at #26 on the Billboard Country Charts and #16 on the Canadian Country Charts.

Paradise

When I was a child my family would travel
Down to Western Kentucky where my parents were born
And there’s a backwards old town that’s often remembered
So many times that my memories are worn

And Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County?
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I’m sorry, my son, but you’re too late in asking
Mister Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away

Well, sometimes we’d travel right down the Green River
To the abandoned old prison down by Airdrie Hill
Where the air smelled like snakes we’d shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all we would kill

And Daddy, won’t you take me back to Muhlenberg County?
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I’m sorry my son, but you’re too late in asking
Mister Peabody’s coal train has hauled it away

Then the coal company came with the world’s largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man

When I die, let my ashes float down the Green River
Let my soul roll on up to the Rochester Dam
I’ll be halfway to Heaven with Paradise waitin’
Just five miles away from wherever I am

…

Tag: Paradise

John Prine – John Prine …album review

John Prine – Paradise