King Hannah
John Prine On The Radio

I'm looking for an answer too, but I couldn't find it
I can't even concentrate at the moment
There's a spot in the kitchen if you want to come closer to me
I'm preparing something to eat and listening to John Prine on the radio
It makes me feel better

Here is this song from 2024: damn! It’s something that nests where melancholy and ecstasy come together. Both exponential, at their highest level. I know I'm rambling. I know it sounds like such a fragile piece. But put yourself in the mindset of a conscious dialogue with your inner world. She says there's a spot beside her, there, in the kitchen. She left it empty; it’s for you. There's also chicken in the oven, in unknown conditions, but it's the helper. It will support the decision that neither she nor the same plucked and golden bundle is responsible for. But in the meantime, John Prine is on the radio. And the music is destined, as always, to hold together the pieces and patches of our lives. All the tears. Damn! Why should we turn off the radio? It’s not a place of dreams or illusions that music offers us. It is this world here, decayed and real, that fixes itself. It's the world within the world. Nothing more. In a few spare, swaying chords. On a pale, milky guitar. Along a ticking heartbeat. In a song that starts with a sob and transforms into nostalgic harmony, into future currents. A song of light waves. Nowhere else but here. Where we sit waiting. We've already prepared the things around, arranged them. Refrains supported by who knows whom or where. But the glimmer of that music, which slowly sews itself onto us, which slips around our soul to let us perceive it, also thins the waiting; so much so that we no longer even have expectations, and we cannot be disappointed anymore. Not even, not even. In the intoxication, however, of having found the gateway to our unique story. And here the smell of burnt skin is no longer different from the scent of wisteria, that bit of love you had from what you have. Damn!

The chicken has been in the oven since a quarter to five
I hope it's not burning
And I hope not to ruin your evening.
But there’s John Prine on the radio
And it makes me feel good

PS Dedicated to DaniP and Annette with whom I shared this album which we find beautiful. "John Prine On The Radio" is the last track of BIG SWIMMER. Please read DaniP's review, if you haven't already, it will give you the right enthusiasm to venture into the album.