4
street roots
July 19, 2013
The role
of the
wiseass
will be
W;
111
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P H O T O C O U R T E S Y O F T O D D SNIDER
The modern-day troubadour returns to Portland, no doubt with a story to tell
BY SUE ZALOKAR
S T A F F W R IT E R
eaverton-native Todd Snider may just
be the most honest person in the
music industry.
If you are a conservative, Christian, right-
wing Republican, straight, white, American
male or female, you may find his honesty
irritating. That is the point.
If you have heard him play a live show,
you know that he can tell a story that is
three times as long as the songs he plays on
either side of it and full of social
commentary.
Snider’s comedy rivals that of one of his
idols, Bill Hicks, drawing on an uncanny
knack for bringing to life rich characters
who tell the stories of our society’s
underdogs.
Snider, a walking, talking version of one
of his own characters, can turn that
microscope on himself and be self
deprecating. He now lives in East Nashville,
and should anyone care to ask, he will
answer in a slight drawl — which he must
have developed since his time in the South
- that he is “a complete fuck up.”
B
Sue Zalokar: You’ve said “I d id n ’t set out
to be original, I set out to be Jerry J e f f Walker. ”
You seem like you are all Todd Sn id er now.
Todd Snider: I hope so. Or at least I feel
like that’s where I’m headed. It was when I
met him and John Prine I learned that the
only way I was really gonna get to be like
them was to be myself, which is what they
were being. I had already made some
records by then, so I was lucky that I got to
learn that lesson a little late and still hold a
job.
S. Z.: You are an epic storyteller...
T. S.: Well thank you. I made up a book.
In fact I was just reading it when you called.
I’ve got to make up a title by Friday. I have
a few that I’m going with.
S. Z.: I ca n ’t wait to read it. What are some
o f the titles you are considering fo r the book?
T. S.: “How to Stay Warm for the Rest of
Your Life,” “How to Write Songs That Won’t
Be on the Radio,” “Notes on Obscurity,” “I
Was High When I Wrote This,” “How to go
Crazy on Purpose,” “Safety Third: The
Pretty Much True Stories of Todd Snider,”
“Todd Snider Rules and Other Humble
Stories,” “Born to Win and Other Stories of
Failure,” “Making Up Someone to Be,” “The
Bull Crastinations of Todd Snider,
Imagineer,” “Aimless, Inc.” and then “Tipsy
Gypsy” gets thrown around too.
And a friend of mine took a photo of me
playing the trumpet that I’d like to use [for
the cover of the book]. I don’t play the
trumpet, but I look cool. You wouldn’t know
that I wasn’t kicking its ass. It’s making an
awful squawking noise in reality, but it looks
like I’m laying it down.
S.Z.: The late comedian, B ill H icks, is one
o f the people who inspires you. You’ve said
“H icks was three chords from a folk singer. ”
What is the importance o f hum or in what you
do?
T.S.: If there’s anything to bring to that
conversation, it would be that humor is not
any more important than another emotion
on, say, the emotional scale.
I like to think, and some of my heros have
offered to me too, that all the emotions
should be available to you in any situation. If
you are making up a song about a funeral
and you think of something funny, that’s OK.
And if you are making up a song about
something funny and all of a sudden you
want to say something very heartfelt or
angry or anything, I let it fly.
sing this song and I felt like one of us was
gonna tear up. We didn’t, but you could feel
it. It was palpable. Jerry Jeff didn’t tell the
guy that he wrote that song. Then he gave
all of his money to him and just said, “That
was beautiful.” I don’t even think the guy
really looked up. And then we walked off. I
remember saying to Jerry Jeff, “That might
be the highlight of my life,” and he said,
“Pretty boring so far then, I guess, huh?”
Which is funny because I said that very
thing to him when I m et him 20 years ago,
and his answer was the same then too.
S. Z.: You recently made a docum entary that
S. Z.: When you were in Portland last year,
you told a story about encountering a busker
playing “M r. B o ja n g les” while walking with
Jerry J e f f Walker (the m usician who wrote, M r.
Bojangles).
involved a two-day session o f eating acid?
T. S.: It was five days.
S. Z.: Five days o f eating acid on film ?
What was that like?
T. S.: Forgive me, but I kind of ramble.
It’s a weakness.
We went up to Santa Fe to have some fun.
On this night we closed down this bar and it
was like three in the morning and nobody
was on the street but us. No cars, no nobody
and there was this guy. I don’t think he was
drunk, but he was impaired in some way
that had him standing on the street alone,
with his hat on the ground, singing “Mr.
Bojangles.”
There was no chance of anyone coming
by. Me and Jerry Jeff heard the music and
we went to go find it, 'cause we could tell it
was his song and when we found him, [the
scene] was angelic. It was almost surreal.
We stood there and we watched this guy
T. S.: Well [laughter], in one sense it was
great because I got to go see a movie and I
was in it. And I had no idea what to expect.
First, there was a movie named “Peace
Queer.” That was like six years ago. These
guys, the Barnes Brothers made it. They
wanted to make a documentary again. They
were coming to town to see their friends
anyway and they have their cameras with
them all of the time, and so sometimes we
just do funny skits and make little movies
that we just show our friends. We weren’t
sure exactly what we were going to do, but
we started partying and making the rounds.
And they had their cameras going.
See TODD SNIDER page 5