By Kloghole
“Eat shit, liver!” I mumble as I stumble over to get my computer, having consumed my three fingers in honor of my Mom who died on this day 16 years ago. I tell myself that she stuck it out for one more day so as not to die the same day as her sister, my brother’s birthday, but poor people don’t have that kind of agency.
I am of the age that people just fucking die. Half of my parents are dead, well three of them.
So it is with the consummate songwriter Todd Snider. Felled by god knows what. I have not had the emotional strength to look further into it, but there were whispers of an assault, a hospital visit, a run-in with police, and pneumonia. Leave it to Todd to make it fucking interesting.
Todd Snider is only a few months older than I am, but that fact only drives home how little I have accomplished in this nearly 60 years of stomping around this planet. His song, “Class of 85” reminds me that I missed my 40 year reunion. Well, I missed all of them, but there’s always the 50th.
For those of you who do not know, Todd (he’s dead now, so I can talk about him like I know him), wrote and sang about pretty much everything under the sun. He pondered the mundane as well as the political.
“Alright Guy” sums up how we think about ourselves, but not necessarily how people think about us. I am sure we all have those stories, but one of mine is about some folks who bullrushed into an organization where I had a leadership role. They came in all barrels blasting, but took no responsibility for anything. When they blew up at the prior leadership for who the fuck knows what, they refused to take on the responsibility for communications. Well, they sent a message to the membership where someone responded with some racist bullshit. Because they somehow sent the message in a way that allowed replies and did not take ownership of the list management, the discussion spiraled in a way that I told them would happen if they kept on the path they did. Later, I said to one of them that they needed to own what they did. That did not go over well. In all that, I know I am an “Alright Guy” despite the response. There is more to the story, but for the sake of pacing, let’s move on.
Snider seems to have a critical view of U.S. politics, “Conservative Christian, Right-Wing Republican, Straight, White, American Males.” His “You Got Away With It” appears to be a not-so-veiled jab at Bush the dumber. Privilege, especially the privilege to be able to harm others without consequences, is enraging. The other day, something prompted me to begin pontificating about my high school experience. My nephews are both able to showcase their musical and theatrical talents and have their choice of schools with thousands in scholarships. While they actively make use of the opportunities laid at their feet, my own reality was very different. When a friend of mine and I had test scores in the top percentile in the state, we were brought to the vice-principal’s office to be informed of the fact, very quietly. We were not the model students, and hence did not rate public accolades. In contrast, the friend of mine who helped students cheat on a history exam and was detained for drinking before graduation was celebrated publicly at graduation - something about a model citizen award. This is a “friend” who would fuck with me, poke me with a pencil, etc., until I responded. When I did, I was sent to the principal’s office. He, however, just got to sit in class with a stupid fucking smirk on his face. After a while, I just stopped going to the principal’s office. Once after being kicked out of class for some reason, I convinced the friend who also got the high test scores to go to the library to do homework. When the announcement over the loudspeaker called for our heads, he was a bit panicky. I could give a shit less. What the fuck were they going to do to students who went to the library to study instead of reporting directly to the principal’s office? I am pretty sure that we were sent there because of the dude who was always fucking around. He “Got Away With It.” Not me. There is a much longer story, but it ends with my brother throwing a textbook at my former math teacher because my reputation followed my brother into that classroom.
Todd Snider is one of the few folks who I thought maybe I should go see. I would mention him to neighbors and friends, and they would regale me with stories about his shows. There is one song that has tickled my funny bone, but you have to listen to the live version - the “Balled of the Devil’s Backbone Tavern.” It showcases his songwriting and live banter skills. I will not give away the ending. Hopefully, you get a good belly laugh as I did.
Some of the songs that stick with me are truly the singer/songwriter style of storytelling. He tells a captivating story of how Dock Ellis threw a no-hitter on LSD. Another memorable story is a fictionalized conversation with D.B. Cooper after he jumped out of a plane with a duffle of cash. There are so many more, but feel free to discover them yourself. He is the kind of artist that is very easy to listen to while you are in nearly any kind of mood. During a recent trip back to my hometown, I listened to every album of his in my collection. With some artists, I cannot bear such immersion, but with Todd Snider, I am still eager to listen again.
There are a few songs you may recognize, some of which Snider wrote and some he didn’t. “Beer Run” is a co-written anthem with a catchy chorus: “B double E, double R, U, N - Beer Run.” Snider would chose some great songs and make them his own. “Betty Was Black” is a historical narrative about intermarriage. Todd also chose a Fred Eaglesmith standard, “Alcohol and Pills,” doing it so well you may imagine it as one of his own.
While his death certainly was not the direct result of alcohol and pills, it had the tragic resonance of a talented artist taken far too early. There are a lot of good people taken far too early, and it is always painful. It is also a bit odd how affected we are by the passing of someone we do not know. Perhaps it is because they still have a profound affect on us despite not knowing them personally. The emotions they engender in us create a connection.
As you may have surmised, I do not believe that things “happen for a reason” in the way that most people excuse. Some shit happens for a reason, usually because some fucking privileged asshole made it happen. Other shit is just fucking random or a cacophony of bad shit all coming together at once. This seems to be the case with Snider. I have always found life to be grievously unfair. “Good people” die, and horrible people fucking live forever, cough...Kissinger, cough...Reagan.
While at the record store on my birthday, I passed up the chance to buy his new album. For some reason, I just could not bring myself to pick it up new after he had passed. It wasn’t right, in the moment. Perhaps later, I will not feel that way, but I usually forget that there is new music out there until I find it used.
For those not familiar with Todd Snider, he is worth a go. Perhaps, as with many artists, the live material is always a good entry point. Then, work your way out by picking up those albums with the songs you like. Or, if you are not a fucking fossil that still draws breath, get on the streaming and cherry pick your way through song by song, however you youngsters fucking do it these days.
Todd Snider, on the whole, has always been a three sweet sticky balls artist for me. He gets heavy rotation with Fred Eaglesmith, Ben Harper, Shooter Jennings, Koko Taylor, Alejandro Escovedo, among others. There are some artists who the world is a little poorer for not getting more from them, but I think the world could live without a new Metallica album, or another painful offering from what’s her name. I truly just forgot. Shut up, brain; it’s not fucking Tiffany something. Fuck. Oh well. I am getting fucking old.
Sweet Dreams Motherfuckers!
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