When John Prine and Iris DeMent stepped onto the stage of Sessions at West 54th, they weren’t simply performing a duet. They were reenacting a philosophy of love that felt startlingly real, disarmingly funny, and profoundly human. Their rendition of In Spite of Ourselves—originally released in 1999 as the title track of Prine’s long-awaited comeback album—remains one of the most quietly radical love songs in modern American songwriting.
In a musical landscape crowded with soaring declarations and cinematic devotion, In Spite of Ourselves stands apart. It refuses the fantasy of perfect romance. Instead, it revels in the chipped enamel of real life—the stubbornness, the habits, the idiosyncrasies that make people maddening and irresistible at the same time. Watching Prine and DeMent perform it live on Sessions at West 54th feels less like witnessing a concert and more like overhearing a lifelong inside joke shared between partners who know exactly who they are.
A Comeback Framed by Honesty
By the late 1990s, John Prine was already revered as one of America’s most gifted songwriters. Yet the release of the In Spite of Ourselves album in 1999 carried extra weight. After battling cancer and enduring years away from recording, Prine returned not with bombast, but with wit. The album itself leaned heavily into classic country duets, pairing him with a constellation of female vocalists. But it was his collaboration with Iris DeMent that struck the deepest chord.
On Sessions at West 54th, the song takes on a new vitality. Without the polish of the studio, the arrangement feels stripped to its bones—acoustic guitar, gentle rhythm, and two voices in playful dialogue. The minimalism serves the message. There is no need for sweeping strings or dramatic crescendos. The drama lies in the lyrics, and the charm lies in the chemistry.
A Love Song That Dares to Laugh
From its opening lines, In Spite of Ourselves signals that it will not follow traditional romantic conventions. Instead of praising flawless beauty or eternal bliss, Prine catalogs quirks and imperfections. The couple at the heart of the song is stubborn. They argue. They have habits that would drive lesser lovers away. And yet, they remain.
This is where the live performance shines. Prine delivers his verses with a sly grin audible in every syllable. His phrasing is conversational, almost conspiratorial, as if he’s nudging the audience and whispering, “You know exactly what I mean.” DeMent counters with a vocal tone that is both earthy and sincere. Where Prine leans into mischief, DeMent brings grounded warmth. The push and pull between them mirrors the song’s central thesis: love is not about erasing difference but embracing it.
Their harmonies are intentionally imperfect. They don’t melt seamlessly into one another; they overlap, sometimes clash, always complement. It feels authentic—two distinct individuals choosing to stand side by side rather than dissolving into a single polished sound. In that way, the performance becomes a living metaphor for the marriage it describes.
Domestic Reality as Poetry
Prine had an unmatched ability to elevate everyday life into something poetic without making it precious. In In Spite of Ourselves, he transforms the mundane into a declaration of loyalty. There are no grand gestures here—no sunsets on distant shores, no promises written in the stars. Instead, there is shared stubbornness and the quiet understanding that, despite everything, they belong together.
The West 54th stage amplifies this intimacy. The venue, known for showcasing artists in close, carefully curated settings, allows every lyric to breathe. The camera lingers not on spectacle but on expression—Prine’s knowing smirk, DeMent’s earnest gaze. The audience listens intently, occasionally laughing at the humor embedded in the lines. But beneath the laughter is recognition. This isn’t parody. It’s testimony.
The Cultural Weight of Imperfection
In many ways, In Spite of Ourselves has only grown more resonant with time. In an era saturated with filtered images and curated perfection, Prine’s anthem of flawed devotion feels almost rebellious. It asserts that real love does not require transformation into an idealized version of oneself. It requires showing up—day after day—fully aware of each other’s weaknesses.
The live performance underscores this message. There is a looseness to it, an absence of pretense. Prine and DeMent do not over-sing or over-perform. They trust the song. They trust each other. That trust translates into a relaxed confidence that allows the humor to land naturally and the sentiment to resonate without sentimentality.
What makes this duet extraordinary is its balance. It is playful without being dismissive. It is affectionate without being saccharine. It acknowledges human frailty while refusing to see it as disqualifying. Few love songs manage that equilibrium.
A Dialogue, Not a Duet
Perhaps the most compelling aspect of the West 54th rendition is how clearly it functions as a conversation. Prine and DeMent aren’t merely alternating verses; they are responding to each other. Subtle glances and timing shifts reveal a shared understanding. It feels spontaneous, even though the song had already been performed countless times.
This conversational quality highlights a broader truth about Prine’s songwriting. He rarely positioned himself above his subjects. Instead, he wrote from within the messiness of experience. In In Spite of Ourselves, he doesn’t idealize love; he humanizes it.
Enduring Legacy
Today, In Spite of Ourselves is widely regarded as one of John Prine’s signature songs. It remains a staple at weddings and anniversary celebrations, often chosen by couples who recognize themselves in its humor. The live performance with Iris DeMent stands as a definitive interpretation—a moment when two artists fully inhabited the spirit of the song.
Long after the final chord fades, what lingers is not just melody but perspective. The performance leaves audiences with a gentle reminder: devotion is not built on flawlessness. It is built on acceptance. On laughter. On the stubborn decision to stay.
In that intimate West 54th setting, John Prine and Iris DeMent didn’t just sing about love. They embodied a version of it that feels refreshingly attainable. Imperfect. Honest. Enduring.
And perhaps that is why, years later, In Spite of Ourselves continues to feel less like a performance and more like a promise—spoken plainly, sung softly, and meant to last.