John Prine: Bruised Orange: Song-By-Song Discussion Thread

I've been fortunate enough to facilitate a successful Woody Allen movie-by-movie thread, and enjoyable song-by-song discussion threads for three of Bob Dylan's less-regarded albums ("Self Portrait", "Knocked Out Loaded", and "Down in the Groove"). Moving forward, I was considering expanding out to other artists ("Songs From the Capeman" by Paul Simon, "Built to Last" by The Grateful Dead, and "Lulu" by Lou Reed/Metallica being high on my list). I may still get to those, but I decided rather than reexamine the less-regarded works of some famous artists, I'd like to shine a spotlight on one of my favorite albums by an artist some folks may be less familiar with - John Prine. So I may end up talking to myself here, but I'd like to go track-by-track through Prine's 1978 classic "Bruised Orange".

Having done four of these threads now, I can assure you that they require adherence to a few "rules" in order to work. So please if you choose to play along, I ask that you post in accordance.

1 - Please comment only on the song at hand, or a song that has already been discussed. Please avoid making comments about the album as a whole, or John Prine's career as a whole (however much you may love him).

If you'd like to express general appreciation for Prine, it can be done in this thread: John Prine Appreciation Thread »

2 - Please avoid summarily dismissing a given track as not worthy of discussion or consideration. You can express that feeling by simply NOT posting about the track.

3 - Please support your point of view, whether it be negative or positive. "This is great" or "This is unlistenable" do not foster interesting or meaningful dialog.

If you have never heard this album, or even never heard of John Prine, you might still enjoy playing along. I suspect that I'll be able to put up a YouTube link to each track as they come up (usually one track a day).

 

Track 1 - "Fish and Whistle"



I been thinking lately about the people I meet
The car wash on the corner and the hole in the street
The way my ankles hurt with shoes on my feet
And I'm wondering if I'm gonna see tomorrow.

Father forgive us for what we must do
You forgive us we'll forgive you
We'll forgive each other till we both turn blue
Then we'll whistle and go fishing in heaven.

I was in the army but I never dug a trench
I used to bust my knuckles on a monkey wrench
Then I'd go to town and drink and give the girls a pinch
But I don't think they ever even noticed me.

Fish and whistle, whistle and fish
Eat everything that they put on your dish
And when we get through we'll make a big wish
That we never have to do this again again? again?

On my very first job I said thank you and please
They made me scrub a parking lot down on my knees
Then I got fired for being scared of bees
And they only give me fifty cents an hour.

Besides being an infinitely catchy tune, this song showcases Prine's ability to take the banalities of real life and put a quirky, surreal edge on them. According to Prine, it all happened (he was, of course, a mechanic in the army, for one thing). Before I Bogart the conversation .... thoughts?

 

From the "Great Days" liner notes:

"I was writing about exactly what was going on that day. There was this hole in the street right in front of my house. All these trucks would hit the hole, and the house would shake. And down the street, they built a car wash, which I liked because I always liked to keep my car clean. I took my car down there - there were no attendants, you just put your money in - and everything worked except the rinse cycle. So all the soap dried up on my car. That was the kind of day it was. I really did scrub a parking lot on my knees. My first job, when I was 12 or 13, was at Skip's Fiesta Drive-In, which was a big place for hot rods to hang out. I worked there during the daytime and helped this old Swedish janitor with his chores. The carhops wore hula skirts, and kids would buy the cheapest thing, a cup of custard, so they could watch the carhops and stuff. And then they'd take the custard and throw it on the ground. The next day, I'd be out there on my knees with boiling hot water with ammonia, trying to scrape this custard off. I thought, "This is what it's all about, all my jobs are gonna be like this."

 

A very catchy song with very funny lyrics. Prime at his best. As a matter of fact one of my-now-grown up sons -took a great liking of this song-hearing me play it. At the time he could have been 15. Now many years after I've noticed it still is on his playlist.
Funny and absurd as the lyrics are there is also an edge of deep philosophy here. Vintage Prine really.

 

Prine, at his best, has this ability to capture the mundane in life and elevate it to the level of poetry. This is a portrait in miniature of the walls we push up against just to get through the day, through life, some big some small, and who the hell is to blame for this mess we're in. It's all empathy and resignation with a shrug as if to say "what're you gonna do". I'm sure that wasn't his intent, but the best songwriters can blindside you with the simplest of tunes and make you think outside of the lyrics. Prine is certainly one of them.

 

Great idea for a thread. My limitation is that I'm only familiar with the songs which appear on the Great Days anthology and/or Live (1988). For thoses playing along, here is the tracklist.

1. "Fish and Whistle" – 3:14
2. "There She Goes" – 3:24
3. "If You Don't Want My Love" (Prine, Phil Spector) – 3:05
4. "That's the Way That the World Goes 'Round" – 3:20
5. "Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow)" – 5:21
6. "Sabu Visits the Twin Cities Alone" – 2:53
7. "Aw Heck" – 2:20
8. "Crooked Piece of Time" – 2:52
9. "Iron Ore Betty" – 2:42
10. "The Hobo Song" – 3:31

I've always loved this story. Prine's self-deprecation and lack of pretension are assets that make so many of his songs (stories, portraits, whatever) that much more affecting because some innately marvelous aspects of his personality, his skewed view and his unwavering humanity (to my mind) in ways elevates his work (in ways) above those of Dylan -- who is more often "reaching" -- or Cohen -- who is oten "exploring" -- when Prine is observing and relaying. It's no small thing that Dylan has called him a modern Proust. Keep in mind, I don't see it as a competition -- this is just yakking on the Internet. That said, those three songwriters are somehow a triumvirate of pathos, ethos and logos.

Yeah, that was some pretentious hogwash on my part, but I'll stand on Townes Van Zandt's coffee table and say it again.

Not sure how much delving I have it in me to do in general but, oh boy, I'm looking forward to this thread. For my part, here are some autobiographical and idiosyncratic recollections on "Fish and Whistle:"

I discovered this song in 1992, not long after first discovering John Prine. I learned it from the 1988 live album. I don't see it online, but I've linked a 1986 approximation below. Anyhow, this was about five years removed from my own first job, as a "gas jockey" filling tanks, checking oil and wiping windows. On a good day I was allowed to handle ferrying change from the manager. On a bad day I had to clean the rest rooms. I never had that bad a day. From the get-go, I pictured that job with this song. So, when around that time I began a lifelong appreciation for the poetry of Elizabeth Bishop, I also associated that song with one of her own more surface-friendly and unpretentious poems, "Filling Station."

More germane to the topic, it was a few years later I discovered the original album version, produced by his long-time friend Steve Goodman, without whom Prine would never have been discovered by Kris Kristofferson. My take: what's with that weird flute? Why's the phrasing so arch? Now, the versions are equal in my ears, of course. But that live version was also my introduction to what a concert sounds like in a club. Murmurs, clinking glasses. It was my introduction to a singer whose stories are sometimes equal to or surpass the songs they introduce (but it's too soon for me to wax nutty on "Aw Heck").

Okay, now time for the heavy hitters. Cheers as always, @RayS, and looking forward to your thoughts as well as those of @HominyRhodes. I'll try to chime in with more than "likes" but who knows. Sometimes words are too hard -- especially when talking about a writer whose words seem so easy.

 

At the risk of over-posting:

Very true. In this post on the "appreciation thread" someone shared an interview with poet Ted Kooser which I think relays exactly what you're saying about Prine and his intent. I think he's aware of the "blindsiding" effect but I don't sense he swung for the fences so much as he was a natural. As to empathy, I firmly believe that's what sets him apart from the other "new Dylans." For instance, when he tells a down-on-their-luck story, it's not drenched in a self-aware haze like Tom Waits (who I like... a lot). There's simply something more ordinary going on -- in the best sense of the word.

 

Thank you both for your insightful contributions. As Prine himself might say, I'm going to let these "simmer" for a bit before I respond. And who knows, someone else might stop by and contribute.

 

"Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow)" - easily one of Prine's best songs. The Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) cover version is glorious too.

 

Someone didn't read the rules

This is a timely thread as my needledrop of this album has been in rotation at work this week. However, I don't feel familiar enough with it yet to contribute other than saying I like it. I'll be following along

 

"Fish and Whistle" is a great song to open up this album. It's really accessible....proof of this is that it's the 4th most popular song of Prine's on Spotify.

 

So many of Prine's themes are universal. Who doesn't have a good story about their first (usually crappy) job? I started in a fast food sub shop at 16. During my first week they swapped out all the 20-year-old kitchen equipment and replaced it with new, modern stuff. The owner of the place somehow imagined that someone else would want to buy this ancient equipment that was absolutely coated in dirt and (mostly) hardened grease. Being the low man on the totem pole, I got handed a bucket of warm water and a Brillo pad and sent to the parking lot where the pieces of equipment were scattered. In the 90 degree heat I scrubbed with a Brillo at ancient caked-on grease that a jackhammer wouldn't take off (on equipment that every sane person knew was headed for the salvage yard). I got $3.35/hour instead of 50 cents/hour. But a day later it was all a big joke to me.

One of the amazing things about this song to me is that it FEELS so incredibly optimistic. But look at the three verses - all bad stuff - holes in the street, soap dried on the car, busted knuckles, no female attention, crappy job, low pay, fired, foot pain ... and maybe not even seeing tomorrow? But Prine (at least with some temporal distance for objectivity) is simply amused by it all. It's all experiences to be, well, experienced rather than avoided ("Eat everything that they put on your dish" becomes Buddhist philosophy in this light, rather than Aunt Bea aphorism). If the experiences weren't all that good, well, you survived them, they make for a good story, and you can hope that you'll never have to do them again, again!

So on to the "Father" Prine addresses. Three possibilities present themselves - his father, a Catholic priest, and The Heavenly Father. My impression is that Prine is addressing the third option. If he could look at Jesus in "Everybody" and say "Jesus, you look tired", he can address God is a song filled with seeming triviality. Prine is kind enough to forgive God as God forgives him. "We'll forgive each other 'til we both turn blue" may be a sly comment on a certain religion - you make the call.

And finally, I wonder if the opening credits of "The Andy Griffith Show" actually inspired the song, or if Prine noticed that after the fact and chose to joke about it in concert.

 

As I feared, the Neilsen overnights for this thread were low. We'll press on nonetheless.

Day 2, Track 2

"There She Goes"



Hey, there she goes
Well I though she'd never leave
Heaven knows
Well it sure gives me the creeps
You know I went and loved that woman
To the power of height
We both got jivin' fever
Screwed our heads uptight
Then it came to blows
Hey hey hey
There she goes.

Hey there she goes
Just a walkin' down the street
I suppose
The next fellow that she meets
Should have her head examined
By an x-ray machine
So he can see all of those pictures
That I've already seen
Just so he knows
Hey hey hey
There she goes.

Well, there must be something somewhere
That makes me want to hurt myself inside
Yeah, we were regular Dr Jekyll
But together
We were Mr. and Mrs. Hyde
What a rough rough ride.

Hey there she goes
She's walking out on me
With all her clothes
Lookin' fine as she could be
Well, I seen her on down at the courthouse
I was sober as the judge
We'd tried to talk things over
But the grudge just wouldn't budge
I said adios
Hey hey hey
There she goes.

Prine's intro to the live version helps explain the song a bit: John Prine : There She Goes »

 

Years later, Prine revisited the notion of warning the "next fella" in "Take a Look at My Heart":

I seen my old lady's boyfriend.
He don't look nothing like me,
'Cept for a bit of confusion;
Same kind she laid on me.

You don't know what you're getting into;
She's gonna tear you apart.
You're going places I've been to;
Take a look at my heart.

 

Fish and Whistle is such a great opening track. My whole family are Prine fans, from my daughters to my cousins and their kids. This is the one song of Prines that I think everyone sings
along to. So catchy. Sets the tone of the album perfectly.
Glen

 

I think the "Father" is your #3, after all they'll be fishing in heaven. (Though I suppose his biological father could accompany him there as well! And the church Father. But that's still the way I hear it.)

 

Based on the songs he's written and the stories he tells, it sure seems like Prine got divorced a lot.

Still, I have to relish the casual and folksy tone in describing this particular one:

"Well, I seen her on down at the courthouse
I was sober as the judge
We'd tried to talk things over
But the grudge just wouldn't budge
I said adios"

In the live version (linked above) Prine suggests that the song is about two other people, and not about him. But as his intro to "The Other Side of Town" (below) suggests, sometimes when he "read about this guy", the guy is HIM.

 

First, is that a veiled hint that you have been reading my mail? How do you know that (against Federal law prohibiting sending cash in the mail) Neilsen sent me a crisp $1 bill this week to participate in their ratings game? </paranoiac schtick>

I can't comment on track two, but I'll backtrack and spin some impressions on the opening track. Please supply your own grains/boulders of salt. It needn't be said, but feel free to roll your eyes as you read (I'm kind'a doing it as I write):

As an opening track I find it critical that he opens not just this song but the album that some literary critics would insist "establish a contract" with the listener regarding authorial intent for the entire volume. I'm not familiar with the entirety of the album so I'll leave it to others to parse.

With this song, he sets a conversational, relatable tone. As you pointed out above, the music is jaunty (with the help of the playful flute). The simplicity of language, the accessibility of the images and the A-A-A-B rhyme all lend to the song's catchy (and comforting) qualities that to degrees add uplift to lyrics that paint a sometimes wistfulness or a simpler time where the unhappy details, with the hindsight of more complicated adulthood, are amusingly manageable and yet lay a foundation for how the narrator sees the world. Best of all, the surface elements and concrete details are laid out such that one doesn't have to read into it like this to appreciate the emotional tones. Despite all those words you just read, I generally think of this a "slight" song because it sneaks any (un?)intended messages through a wink and knowing smile.

Consider what follows just a mental exercise and grist for the mill, not some "this is what it means" close reading.

Anyhow, so the song's a concatenation of loosely related memories walking us towards a rhetorical existential question. The first line humbly begins with a modern spin on "gather round and a story I will tell" followed by easily noticed things that suggest our setting -- the kind of neighborhood or district with a car wash and potholes. Taking our narrator as representative, barefoot is preferred (maybe in general, maybe because of aches and pains that come with age). Plenty to glean here. In the fourth line we break from the rhyme and break from observation and into a plain-spoken rumination one's own mortality.

Four lines in we're already at a refrain of equal length. Since the first verse ends with the existential statement, I read "Father" (as @RayS mused) as a low-key reference to G-d. I'd also infer that from the use of "us" and "we" which strikes me as an unpretentious way of saying "your children" or "people." I've always loved the second line in the refrain, "you forgive us and we'll forgive you" since it plays with the notion of blaming G-d (or others) for our problems and yet explicitly focusing on the angle of "forgiveness" and letting the blame part be implicit. Was this Prine's intent? Consciously, I doubt it. I think I'm writing a fair bit of puffery that would make him and many others shake their heads and chuckle. Still, I do think it works. Anyhow, "till we both turn blue" strikes me as a jovial shrug. Conflicts happen, people screw up, we move on and when the day is done "we'll whistle and go fishing in heaven." I love Ray's invocation of The Andy Griffith Show because this song does seem to have a bit of that show's tone (itself often rooted in Yiddish folktales, believe it or not). It's also worth emphasizing the choice of "whistling." It's a casual and simple act; it's also, importantly, a way of making sound not just without words but while preventing the ability to speak -- and maybe say things that'll require forgiveness!

In the second verse we learn of the narrator's military service. I suspect this is pulled from Prine's own record of service. Inter-textually it also sets our narrator on a very different track from Donald ("Donald & Lydia"), Davey (who, according to "Hello in There" died in the Korean War) and the tragedy of the eponymous "Sam Stone." This narrator served but was more Radar & Klinger than Private Ryan or General Patton. Again, the fourth line breaks from observation and becomes one of identity and the feeling of invisibility or even inconsequentiality. (Sorry for the words... I paid a lot of tuition for them to just collect dust in my brain).

Now, at the song's bridge, we return to the chorus' playfulness. "Fish and whistle, whistle and fish" -- these are not interchangeable but equal parts of this escapism... or this vision of a simpler, better world of Andy and Opie, Opie and Andy... or of heaven itself. The next line is that off a parent (of Father) instructing the child (or man) to waste not, want not. And after the work of finishing your plate (even that vegan mush [says the guilt-ridden meat-eater who pops in the vegan thread]) you get to make a wish, you get to voice a hope, to think about not just what's at hand but what you want from/for the future. At least if you read that line in isolation. Paired with its follow up is a sort of prayer to escape the routine. Playful as the repetition of "again" (with each sung in a higher note) it hints at the urgency or deep desire for a change. For release. For fishing, whistling and heaven. For walking barefoot in the country, not stepping around potholes with achy feet.

In the last verse we flash back to the narrator's first job. The song opens with a carwash in the present and now winds down in a parking lot in the past. Our narrator's in a servile position. Not only has he been told above to clean his plate but now, on his knees he has to offer thanks to strangers; that he's not in a place to demand but in one to request. Supplication. He didn't even leave the job -- he was fired. And fired not because of performance itself but for "fear of bees." Now, this line... this is a line I love and kind'a loathe. In a sense it smacks of a filler line that worked well enough and helped to deflate the kind of pompous interpretation I'm laying out. On the other hand, as a character trait it is telling. Setting aside fears of bee allergies, etc., it is rational to be leery of an animal that not just pesters but will die in service of stinging you whilst you scrub a parking lot. That's pretty rational. I can imagine a lot of bees in this scenario. A reasonable job hazard. Anyhow, point is it doesn't have to be read as silly, though it kind of is. It's as if ripped from a countryboy Woody Allen neurotic's formative memory. (The universe is expanding!). It also leads to a very real, very grown-up and very real issue: for all the indignity, he suffered through this fear so he could get a measly pittance. Welcome to adulthood. This is why we want to fish and whistle. Work is eating everything on the plate so one can live to hope and dream of something better. Nevertheless, as Langston Hughes put it: "I wish the rent / was heaven sent." I can almost imagine this narrator to grow up as "Grampa" in "Sins of Memphisto":

Grampa's on the front lawn staring at a rake
Wondering if his marriage was a terrible mistake
I'm sitting on the front steps drinking orange crush
Wondering if it's possible if I could still blush
​

And with that, I'm all outta words.

.. and will step away lest I follow the ever-present urge to delete. If you made it this far, thanks. And either way, forgive the blather but have at it -- in good, respectful fun of course.

 

There She Goes: Immediately brings Siegel-Schwall Band to mind...which I haven't listened to since the 70's! Of course, I haven't listened to Bruised Orange since about that time, too.

A couple of great lines in this song, with the "grudge just wouldn't budge" being the most memorable.

I am listening on Apple Music, enabling the lyrics, and it says written by Chad Hugo, Pharrell Williams, Kenneth Edmonds and Charles Hugo! Naturally, not content to accept that, I checked and can happily confirm that this is a John Prine original.

 

You really need to stop apologizing for your writing. This was insightful and fun to read. It captures a lot of the essence of what makes Prine special. And as another fan of Dylan and Cohen, I appreciate your ability to differentiate the three without any attempt at demeaning any of their work (as you did earlier).

Putting together the custard story in the "Great Days" liner notes with the line "being scared of bees", I can see the bees in the parking lot, attracted to the sweetness in the spilled custard, making young Prine's life Hell. And surely MY boss from my crummy first job (may he rest in pieces) would have sent me right back out there and told me to man up. (He eventually gave me a scraper when the Brillo was ineffective on the caked-on grease.)

I know you haven't heard the non-"Great Days" tracks from this album, but give them a spin - we really need you to play along on a full time basis! I'm pretty certain a theme will emerge as we move through the album (it does for me, anyways).

Keep putting that writing out there. Don't have any regrets - they can talk about you plenty when you're gone (oh yeah!)

 

A couple of those guys, at minimum, would have had to time travel to back before their birth to write this one.

 

Perhaps one of Prine's (vague) inspirations for "There She Goes"?

 

Day 3, Song 3

"If You Don't Want My Love"



Co-written with Phil Spector (who, thankfully, IMO, was not involved in the production of this album)

It's interesting to me that this song generated a number of cover versions. To me, this is the album's low point. A song heavy on repetition and short on insight. I would cut and paste the lyrics, but there's really nothing there to see, folks.

Other opinions may vary. Even if you've never heard this one in your life, give it a click and offer an opinion. I'd hate to just be talking to myself here

 

Re: "There She Goes"
Like Zeki said, a bit of Siegel-Schwall in the rhythm of this song, could even say a bit of The PAul Butterfield Band in very laid back mode mixed in with country. Back then songs with this blend of style were a wee bit more prevalent on playlists and it's a shame they're not around as much outside of NPR and specialist shows. The subject matter is Prines usual rueful/snarky take on a situation that today would be taken up with much rending of garments and drama in the music. Not to say that it isn't a serious subject but there's more than one way to write a song and Prine was great at finding a side door in how to approach lyrics.

 

"If You Don't Want My Love"
Can't you hear latter day Lucinda Williams singing this one? Her lachrymose vocals could just wrap themselves up in the melody. Yeah, it's repetitious, but it catches that point at the end of a relationship where you're just so stuck in a lousy mood that you're spinning around and repeating things to yourself over and over like a needle stuck on a recird. Really kind of a nothing song but I always get caught up in it while it's playing.