A Love Song Full of Flaws, Laughter, and the Kind of Truth You Can’t Script
On the final night of the Galway Arts Festival in 2011, something unplanned turned into something unforgettable. Iris DeMent was closing her set at a small venue in Galway when she began “In Spite of Ourselves,” a song written by John Prine. Then, from the audience, Prine himself stepped up to join her.
What followed was not polished. It was better than that.
The song has always been a celebration of imperfect love. Two people, full of quirks and contradictions, somehow fitting together anyway. Lines that might seem humorous on paper come alive in performance, especially when sung by the man who wrote them and a voice as distinctive as Iris DeMent’s.
Her high, expressive tone brings a playful sharpness to the lyrics, while John Prine answers with his relaxed, weathered delivery. There is chemistry not just in sound, but in spirit. They don’t try to smooth out the rough edges of the song. They lean into them.
The setting matters. This is not a grand stage, but an intimate room. You can hear the laughter, the applause, the sense that everyone present knows they are witnessing something rare. A spontaneous moment where music feels alive, unpredictable, and deeply human.
As the verses unfold, the humor carries an undercurrent of sincerity. Beneath the jokes and eccentric details is a simple idea. Love is not about perfection. It is about staying, choosing each other, even when things are messy.
When they reach the chorus together, there is a lift. Not dramatic, but genuine. A shared understanding between performers and audience alike.
Looking back, this performance endures because it was never about precision.
It was about presence.
And in that small room in Galway, Iris DeMent and John Prine reminded everyone that sometimes the truest love songs are the ones that dare to be a little crooked—and mean every word anyway.