He was a man-out-of-time. He wrote songs that I wanted to hear. He looked and sounded like an old soul. A troubadour who had been around as long as the greats. He possessed the talents of those who shared his name.
His songs are filled with self reflection and social commentary. His catalogue is littered with gold. Learnings from the past and the light he saw up ahead.
I don’t think he had a bad album, but each release was stronger than the last and his final release – last year’s The Saint of Lost Causes – is an incredible piece of work. A masterpiece.
If you haven’t seen it check out his Harlem River Blues performance on Letterman.
I hope the Universe looks after him.