By Daryl Sanders
In the third installment of Todd Snider’s answers to questions submitted in the “Ask Todd Anything” thread, Snider delves into his songwriting process and other topics, including recollections of Jimmy Buffett and Townes Van Zandt
Mark Barry: Hey. Any run-ins with Townes Van Zandt? Seems like your kinda guy.
Todd: I did. Keith Sykes took me to the Whole Damn Family Christmas party
without telling me the Whole Damn Family was code for Prine. It was at a club, and John had told Keith to go thru the kitchen. So we walk in the back of the bar, and in the bar kitchen throwing craps is Guy Clark, Townes and Prine. I knew John, but not Guy or Townes. We sat back there all night, and at some point, Townes sat awkwardly close to me and said that none of this was right anymore. I looked at him, and he was crying. He looked at me really serious and held on to my arm for a long time. I asked him what was right, and as I was asking, Guy yelled, “Fuck," and Townes winced and said, “None of this.” Then he sat there with me. Keith told me he did that all the time. Afterward we went to John’s, and Keith, Townes, John and Guy traded songs while I rolled them J’s and poured them drinks.
Cindy Harris: I do have questions! Lurking in The Shithouse Wire for years led to a lot of TS track collecting. The Colorado Demos is amazing and my Googling on lyrics info over the years has been unsuccessful. I would love to hear any comments on those tunes, especially “Workin’ On a Fine Tune.” I think you wrote or had a hand in writing them? And “Wild Tornado.” (Fuck, all of ’em except “Can’t Complain” and “Cape Henry” — feel like those have been covered.) And I’ve always wanted to ask about the lyrics in a song from Rarities FB, 2001, “Thinkin’ Too Much.” And “The Man That I’d Like to Be.” I feel like I see seeds of songs all over the place. Any details about the songs you feel like sharing. Thanks. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for a long time and appreciate the hell out of it.
Todd: I remember making those demos like it was yesterday. At Mark Watkins’ cabin in San Pueblo, Colorado, I was there by myself. I was taping all the songs I had as we were getting ready to do Viva Satellite. I made that song “Working On a Fine Tune” when I was living in an old sharecropper shack out near Dickson (Tennessee). After three years on the road, we took our first decent break. (Jack) Ingram had asked what I was doing, and I made that up like I was talking to him. I was gonna put it on Viva, but it felt too close to “Doublewide,” so I gave it to Jack. Those songs are all about being tired. In music, they say people call home sick from work, until they can’t see straight, learn to see crooked, and kick out the jams. I really like “Here's To Us All.” I made that up the day O.J. (Simpson) was absolved of any wrongdoing. I got robbed in that house, lost a dog, too. My sister’s. Damn. Misty water-colored indeed.
William David Sherman: Could you please talk about your songwriting process? What makes a good song? What makes a bad song? When you were being mentored and shown what makes a song good, what were you shown? You often go from melody to talking in a song, are there any rules about that? Like when it would or wouldn't work in a song? Or when you might choose to do that or not? Anything else you could say about how you write, why you write, co-writing, how you go from inspiration to a finished song. Best thrift store score? I'm glad we got to be on the same planet at the same time. High fives for Brian! Peace.
Todd: Songs exist in the ear of the beholder and nowhere else. So you can’t try to make up good ones or avoid bad ones. I don’t think songs are bad. And when people talk about good songs, you gotta ask good for what? Answers vary by the person.
I make up songs to feel better, but then eventually, from being on tour, I learned, or think I’ve learned, which songs to leave at home and which ones to take to work; and I never know which songs are gonna say “play me, play me” when we get to work. But I don’t want to pressure any of those songs into being that, like a stage mom. I like the ones that want to stay home as much as the ones that like to be sung. I try to stay out of the way of the ones that want to be, and I try to keep from nagging at the ones that don’t. I got ’em everywhere all over the house.
And in this job, there’re not hours, it’s just always. I sit around and fuck with them on-and-off all day and night, but only end up using a small percentage of what I work on. I can type really fast. I usually have a few songs on blocks and almost ready to play all the way thru, and then piles of lines from songs that didn’t make it that I keep scattered around in my mind, waiting to be lived out by the time a song is what I call on blocks. I’ve usually had it going for a few months. It’d have to have a whole verse of words with a melody to get up on blocks, like a car, and then once they are up there, it takes anywhere from three months to a year. Then I make a tape of it and wait a few more months. Then I’ll sing it or put the lines I like on index cards and toss the rest. I'm trying to distill songs down to essence. It’s a ridiculous job for a grown man. So everyday I wake up, shove my head up my own ass, and leave it there— till I think of some way to spell out how were fixin’ to get wasted.
Mat Thompson: Hey Todd. What are your favorite Jimmy Buffett songs? I know you’ve shared a number of stories about Bob Mercer and Jimmy and Margaritaville Records and the like, but if you’ve got any more, I'd love to hear them. Those early years of Margaritaville Records just had some cool shit. I recall The Iguanas, Utley/Greenridge, Evangeline, Fingers (Taylor) — gotta think that gumbo was pretty influential.
Todd: “Fool Button,” “Saxophones,” “Kick It in Second Wind,” “Ringling, Ringling.” I like the lesser-known stuff. “The Captain and the Kid” is sentimental because Jimmy’s first wife was Mercer’s second wife, and she is an incredible woman to say the least. She has a great memory of waking up to him singing that when it was new. Jimmy was literally great at everything. He was a great surfer, and not just a surfer — he could parallel park a pirate ship. Really. He could tack sail, he’s not just good at. He knew a handful of languages, he’s a master fisherman, and pilot. I was in a sea plane that he landed. He was a person who could master things one after the other. A one-off.
Dan Leyes: Somewhere I thought I heard you say you were going to do Camp WTF a little differently this year. Are you willing to preview how it might be different this year? Also, I assume all those “Safety Meetings” are times set aside to smoke weed?
Todd: Hey, Dan! A standout from camp. That was really fun. Well for starters, we’re going to be clearer about one thing. I can sorta show you how to make up songs for yourself to sing. but also hopefully how to get away with it to a degree. So this year I’m bringing Otis Gibbs and Tim Easton. We’ve never done anything but travel around and sing the songs we make up. It’s a way of life. and yes, safety meeting has been road code for joint burning since the ’60s. Or so sayeth the guy who taught it to us.
The Snider Files will publish part four of “You Asked, Todd Answered” Wednesday.
© 2024 Daryl Sanders
Pretty sure Todd is a zen master masquerading as a folk singer.
🙏🏽 grateful