Todd Snider “Cash Cabin Sessions, Vol. 3”

 

I remember it clearly. It was summer between my Freshman and Sophomore year of college and I was trying to dabble in a bit of the “songwriting and acoustic guitars and harmonica racks” thing more and more. I was digging a little deeper in the well than the usual Dylan and Townes thing and what I pulled up was a treasure I would come to value more than diamonds and gold for the rest of my life. First it was a song called “Play a Train Song”, then a record called “East Nashville Skyline”, then it was all of Todd Snider‘s work that came before (and now after) that album. To this day Snider is still “one of my folks”. The songwriter’s who have the heaviest of hands over your own desire to write songs. So much so that the influence extended to my old man and I still get text messages from him with a line from one of Snider’s songs with no context or explanation, just because we love this gent so much.

Snider’s latest album comes at a time where his brand of satire and political candor is especially poignant. 

Todd does two things to utter perfection: vulnerability steeped in deeply rich charm and drawing you in with just his stories. His ability, his magical power, really, to overpower and audience (whether live or sitting in your car listening to his records) is uncanny. There are many who try but few, if any, who can match this man’s super power. Subtle in its fashion. Delivered dead pan at times. Its again made clear here on the first two songs on the record.

‘Working on a Song’ is a self aware, occasional delving into self-deprecation, trip. Singing about writing a song. Snider has a way of delivering things and turning them on their head. “It’s turned into a song about a song you’re working on“, delivering a line about the occasionally ridiculousness of being someone who writes songs, but his conviction and delivery never wane and it hits just the same.

‘Talking Reality Television Blues’ puts on display what the singer-songwriter does best. Pointing the fingers at how innovation, social media, entertainment may dull our senses, but does it in a way that only he can do (and accompanies it with a cartoon video including his and a harmonica playing squirrel).

 

 He continues on with this arrangement style for a good portion of the record. His voice, a picked guitar (or banjo) and the occasional harmonica. A return of some sorts to the origins, where 2016’s Eastside Bulldog had a rock n’ roll edge with a punk rock gilding for good measure and Snider’s work with Hard Working Americans is some of the same with a helping of jam influence on the side. Its a homecoming of sorts to his humble roots. How you might see Snider at a show by himself, on a stage (even if the tracks ‘Dedication’ and ‘Explanation’ are stories that are much shorter than we have come to expect between songs). The record gives you a dose of what makes Todd such a brilliant artist.

It’s striped down to the barest bones at points and it is in those moments when he shines the absolute brightest.