Published on Nov 20, 1998
The transformation of an artist through their career is often a
dicey matter. It’s hit or miss as to whether they get better,
worse, or weirder — and sadly, in my opinion, American folk-rocker
Todd Snider got worse after his 1994 debut, rapidly deciding over
his next two CDs to become Tom Petty. Sad, really; there are enough
Tom Pettys in the world, and while the original Tom Petty may
remain intermittently amusing, imitations begin to pale, quickly.
(Unfortunately, the 1995 Tom Petty Limitation Treaty died in
committee in the US House.)
However, this review isn’t about Snider’s latest works; it’s
about his first CD,
Songs For The Daily Planet. Snider’s viewpoint here was
tongue-in-cheek; still a musical outsider, still the country kid,
his songs are alternately funny and deeply poetic, light and full
of import. This CD is a quick sixty minutes or so of wry
story-telling, slack rock, and incisive folk; a sad commentary on
what might have been instead of what was and is.
What this CD has that future Snider releases lack is humour. It
starts with the backhanded bite of “My Generation (Part 2),” with
the immortal chorus “Well, here’s to hair gel//Hangin’ out at the
health spa//Usin’ condom sense//And watchin’ Arsenio Hall”; a
clever, bitter summary of the eighties and what it did– and
didn’t– mean. From there he goes after growing up redneck
(“Alright Guy”), Nirvana and grunge music (“Talking Grunge Seattle
Blues,” the hidden track at the end of the CD), and my personal
favorite, picking up girls in bars (“Trouble”). It’s really hard
not to smile at lines like “When a girl like you walks in a place
like this//You can almost hear the promises break”.
Snider’s more serious work is where he falls short. While the
environmental paeon of “This Land Is Our Land” and the
straight-ahead barrocker “Turn It Up” work well, his folkier
numbers like “You Think You Know Somebody” and “I Spoke As A Child”
have all the emotional subtlety of Sally Struthers hawking starving
children, bludgeoning where they could cut keenly. Tracks like
these were the shape of things to come.
Probably the oddest track on the CD is track eleven, a version
of the spiritual “Somebody’s Coming.” When you hear Snider’s
gravelly tenor singing “Somebody’s coming who’s gonna change
everything”…you almost believed it with this CD. While further
efforts failed to show any change at all, these thirteen tracks are
a pleasant, if occasionally overdone, romp through what might have
been.