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Holy crap, Spitzy. Truthbombs! I was going to write about how I felt exactly nothing when Bowie died, but I guess not here. John Prine, now there's a loss. To covid no less. I saw him perform with the Colorado Symphony about ten months before he went, which still freaks me out, and makes me...so...sad. They don't make records like that any more! No, wait. I'm struggling to come up with anything as original as

"She don't like her eggs all runny

She thinks crossin' her legs is funny

She looks down her nose at money

She gets it on like the Easter Bunny

She's my baby, I'm her honey

I'm never gonna let her go."

from In Spite of Ourselves, which he performed at Red Rocks, with Aoife O'Donovan, Sarah Jarosz, and Sara Watkins singing the girl parts, which sounds dirty. And is! But back to something partially germane: Jake urged me to listen to "The Right to Party," which was a revelation. I feel your pain, in other words!

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