Todd Snider

Ardenland presents

Todd Snider

Elizabeth Cook

Tue, May 14, 2019

Doors: 6:30 pm / Show: 7:30 pm

$25.00 - $30.00

Ardenland presents

Tickets are $25 advance and $30 day of show.

This is a general admission, standing room only show. Any seating is general admission and available on a first come, first served basis.

Order tickets by phone at 877-987-6487.

There will be a $5 upcharge taken at the door for persons under 21.

**Show Presented in part by Capital City Beverage, Cathead Vodka, A2Z Printing & Find It In Fondren!

Todd Snider
Todd Snider
One morning near the end of August, Todd Snider was relaxing with a visitor on the back porch of his house just outside Nashville, drinking coffee and shooting the breeze while his dog, Cowboy Jim, took a nap nearby. After awhile, Snider said to his guest, "I've got an album's worth of songs, and I think the songs are telling me to make a folk record."

This was a surprising bit of news considering he had spent the last six years making rock albums of one kind or another. But Snider was feeling as if he had "maybe drifted too far from the shore." He was feeling the pull to start over, to go back to what he was doing when he first began, to return to his roots as a folksinger.

If Snider needed any further evidence that was the direction he should pursue, he got it a half hour later. Back inside his home office, he checked his email and had one from his manager informing him he had just received an offer to play the 2019 Newport Folk Festival, an event he had never done.

Snider mentioned he had been listening to Woody Guthrie's Library of Congress Recordings, then crossed the room to the turntable and put the needle down on side one of the record. "Woody Guthrie sometimes gets me reset on why you do a song, instead of how," Snider explains of the man who has long been a touchstone for him. "When I was young, there was something about him that made me want to do it. So once or twice a year, I'll go back to him, I'll go back to the source."

Guthrie famously had the words "This machine kills fascists" printed on his guitar, and on several of the songs on Snider's new album, Cash Cabin Sessions, Vol. 3, he squarely aims his guitar at the creeping fascism he sees in America. He had been wanting to make a political record since 2016, and although only half the songs lean in that direction, there is one constant throughout the album: a man, his guitar, and the truth.

* * * * *

Snider has long been recognized as one of his generation's most gifted and engaging songwriters, so it's no surprise he has returned with a brilliant set of songs -- and make no mistake, Cash Cabin Sessions, Vol. 3 contains some of his best work as a writer. But what really jumps out on the album is Snider's growth as a musician and vocalist. He plays all the instruments on the record, and his guitar work and harmonica playing are nothing short of exceptional; not only full of feeling, but highly skilled. In regards to his guitar playing on the record, Snider says he wanted to take everything he's learned over the past 30 years and play the way he used to play really well.

As far as his vocals on the album are concerned, Snider is singing with more confidence than ever, a confidence born in part from his time with Hard Working Americans doing nothing but sing. His stirring vocal performances range from slurring blues mumble to Dylanesque talking blues to gravely, honest ache.

Of the five songs on which Snider serves up his humorous brand of socio-political commentary, three are performed in the talking blues style: "Talking Reality Television Blues," a hilariously accurate short history of television; "The Blues on Banjo," a bad case of the blues caused by the sorry state of everything from the crooked international monetary-military-industrial complex to the spineless politicians who serve it and which references "Blue Suede Shoes," Richard Lewis, and Townes Van Zandt; and "A Timeless Response to Current Events," a brilliant bit of wordplay on which he calls bullshit on faux patriotism, crooked capitalism, and lying politicians. Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires contributed backing vocals on the latter two songs.

There are two other songs on the album featuring Snider's socio-political points of view: "Just Like Overnight," about the surprising inevitability of change, and "Framed," written from the point of view of the framed "first dollar bill" in a bar, a point of view that shows doing the right thing doesn't pay.

There also are three songs with a music theme. If not for the events that led to the writing of one of those songs,"The Ghost of Johnny Cash," there almost certainly would be no Cash Cabin Sessions, Vol. 3. After a visit to Cash Cabin Studio for a Loretta Lynn session in 2015 where she recorded a song they cowrote, Snider began having a recurring dream about the studio that featured the Man in Black himself. The dream led him to book time at the studio and ultimately inspired him to write "The Ghost of Johnny Cash," which tells the story of Loretta Lynn dancing with Cash's ghost outside the studio in the middle of the night. As he did on much of the record, Snider played the century-old Martin that had long been Johnny Cash's favorite instrument on that song.

Snider paid tribute to Cash's longtime friend and confidante in another of the music-themed songs, "Cowboy Jack Clement's Waltz." Inspired by the iconic record man's oft-quoted maxims regarding the art of recording, the song achingly laments Clement's passing, while touchingly celebrating his legacy.

The album opens with the other song with a music theme, "Working on a Song." It's an existential exercise, a song Snider wrote about writing a song called "Where Do I Go Now That I'm Gone," an idea he actually has been working on for thirty years, but which remains unfinished.

There are also two songs that are personal in nature: "Watering Flowers in the Rain," which was inspired by a former associate of Snider's whose nickname was "Elvis," and "Like a Force of Nature," a philosophical reflection on the orbital nature of friendships. Isbell also added harmony vocals to "Like a Force of Nature."

If Snider is anything, he is a true artist, and he reminds us of that on Cash Cabin Sessions, Vol. 3. At a point in time when the world has never been more complicated and confusing, with people getting louder and louder, Snider did a 180, went back to his roots as a folksinger, to a simpler, quieter form of expression; and it might be what the world is waiting to hear: just a man, his guitar, and the truth.
Elizabeth Cook
Elizabeth Cook
Elizabeth Cook didn’t quite know what she was doing. But she knew there were songs, and they had to get out. Six even years since her critically acclaimed Welder, as well as much personal tumult, there were songs that needed to be born.

“If anything, (Exodus) is a pledge of allegiance for the bad girls and the Homecoming Queens who got caught in a scandal. It’s a bill of rights, and a testimony for those good girls who got away with more than they should have.

“I’m slow, and getting slower,” laughs the lanky blond, unapologetically. “I’m taking my time, really drilling down. There were nine versions of ‘Methadone Blues.’ I’ve never done that before. I love that entrenchment and dedication – and I wasn’t going to do any less than what needed to be done.”
From Dexter Green’s (also the album’s producer) opening electric guitar, equal parts foreboding and fraught, “Exodus of Venus” hurls a churlish witness to erotic upheaval and the drives that subsume our best notions. “Exodus” is an exhortation of sexual surrender that pushes past the brink of reason.

For fans of the Florida-born’n’raised Cook, a Grand Ole Opry regular, SiriusXM Outlaw Country hostess and David Letterman favorite, Exodus of Venus will be something of a shock. If she maintains the tang of her drawl, what emerges – beyond Cook’s always vibrant and vivid sense of detail – is a song cycle soaked in turpentine, musk and honey.

From the sweltering tumble of B-3 on the funky, shuffling “Methadone Blues” to the elegiac dignity of “Tabitha Tuder’s Mama” and the Velvet Underground on fire bristle of “Brokedown in London on the M25,” Cook’s shouldering a deeper passion for the state of living today – and the crashing into the wall reality we all go through. If in the past Cook relied on wit and a certain dogpatch charm, Venus commands a raw knuckled truth that’s even more searing.

“There hasn’t been a lot to laugh about,” confesses the effervescent songwriter who once penned “It Takes Balls To Be A Woman” with equal parts Dolly Parton pluck and Loretta Lynn brio. “Things have been heavy and dark, and I feel really different. I aspire to be more than clever or dark or poignant, but to be honest. I want that to supersede everything.

“Emotionally, mentally, physically – it’s all been tested,” she continues, “and it set me up straight. It was hard, but it’s a good thing. Really hard lessons in resilience… All of it is in the record.”



"If anything, (Exodus) is a pledge of allegiance for the bad girls and the Homecoming Queens who got caught in a scandal. It's a bill of rights, and a testimony for those good girls who got away with more than they should have.



"I'm slow, and getting slower," laughs the lanky blond, unapologetically. "I'm taking my time, really drilling down. There were nine versions of 'Methadone Blues.' I've never done that before. I love that entrenchment and dedication – and I wasn't going to do any less than what needed to be done."

From Dexter Green's (also the album's producer) opening electric guitar, equal parts foreboding and fraught, "Exodus of Venus" hurls a churlish witness to erotic upheaval and the drives that subsume our best notions. "Exodus" is an exhortation of sexual surrender that pushes past the brink of reason.



For fans of the Florida-born'n'raised Cook, a Grand Ole Opry regular, SiriusXM Outlaw Country hostess and David Letterman favorite, Exodus of Venus will be something of a shock. If she maintains the tang of her drawl, what emerges – beyond Cook's always vibrant and vivid sense of detail – is a song cycle soaked in turpentine, musk and honey.


From the sweltering tumble of B-3 on the funky, shuffling "Methadone Blues" to the elegiac dignity of "Tabitha Tuder's Mama" and the Velvet Underground on fire bristle of "Brokedown in London on the M25," Cook's shouldering a deeper passion for the state of living today – and the crashing into the wall reality we all go through. If in the past Cook relied on wit and a certain dogpatch charm, Venus commands a raw knuckled truth that's even more searing.



"There hasn't been a lot to laugh about," confesses the effervescent songwriter who once penned "It Takes Balls To Be A Woman" with equal parts Dolly Parton pluck and Loretta Lynn brio. "Things have been heavy and dark, and I feel really different. I aspire to be more than clever or dark or poignant, but to be honest. I want that to supersede everything.


"Emotionally, mentally, physically – it's all been tested," she continues, "and it set me up straight. It was hard, but it's a good thing. Really hard lessons in resilience... All of it is in the record."



That resilience rises like steam from the narcotic "Dyin'," as Cook professes her by any means necessary strength, "Gonna be a diamond, gonna make hay/ If you don't like it, gonna do it anyway/ Gonna put on the pistols, gonna cause a scene/ Gonna goddamn save the queen..." Flowing from there to the attenuated starkly haunted "Evacuation," a slow build of defiance that eschews the easy for holding onto one's roots – and casting a parallel with New Orleans' own spirit that mines a deep desire to live, die and celebrate where one's essence lies.


"During the years when family was dying and houses were burning down and I was in divorce court and David Letterman was calling and doing shows with Anthony Bourdain, the whiplash was almost too much," Cook admits. "To keep up with all this great stuff, while I'd been sheltered for such a long time from tragedy, it transforms you. It really does."



Cook emerged a tougher, wiser woman. If her years as a rough stock Minnie Pearl, part comedienne, part chronicler of life beyond the urban hipeoisie, had cast her first glass of champagne ebullience as a sparkling presence of hillbilly authenticity, Exodus of Venus suggests a woman tapping into the force of her true power. Frank, stumbling, angry, exhausted, triumphant, she owns the ragged edges, the torn seams and worn thin places.



Joined by hard country soul singer Patty Loveless on "Straight Jacket Love," she catcalls a frantic surrender, "On and off the wagon/Lighting fire to grease/Knives are made for stabbing/Arms are made for peace..." as the CMA Female Vocalist maintains perfect mountain harmony. "I blind emailed her management, fingers crossed – because I heard her voice all over this record – then sent her two or three songs, saying, 'This is my record. If you hear anything...'




"She honed right in on 'Straight Jacket Love.' Maybe it felt like some real dark Appalachian kind of thing. She has such authentic texture and power when she sings. She shows me what I'm trying to do..."



Not that Cook needs any teaching. A kid singer in her late-in-life parents' country music aspirations, she learned bar life early – and getting by with a pretty smile and a good line. Her mother – diagnosed with uterine cancer at 42 while pregnant with Elizabeth – and "raging alcoholic Daddy" had big plans.



"I'm the miracle child sent to heal my father, and I was bewildered by that. I was a princess, but the king was a monster. And if things weren't okay, I was failing."



After years of getting by on charm, with dysfunction part of the family's functionality, it all came apart in Cook's hands. But in the wreckage of death and divorce, Cook found liberation and emancipation.



"I'm not trying to be the good girl anymore, and that brought some joy to all of it. I almost care more – or different," she explains. "These songs are more poignant. They're honest, and all about compassion or grace. For myself, and from a place of experience. Not that any of it was wrong, but I look back and have pride for all that happened and what I've survived."



On "Cutting Diamonds," Cook tosses the declaration "She has no line on polished pearls/Those are for the proper girls..." like confetti. Then on the kick'n'snare'n'piano roll underscored "Orange Blossom Trail," she kicks up a bit of savory dust, with the celebratory toast, "Players talk while Thieves set sail/It's the fragrant air of the underbelly/ On the Orange Blossom Trail..."



"Living on the shady side, there's a comfort level I have in that kind of environment," Cook offers. "That's where the reckless or the brave both say, 'Yeah, why not?' I'm doing what I'm supposed to do – (for me, writing these songs) is a necessity. It's the only power, the only tool, the only weapon I have.



"Listen! We're going from Little Feat to REM, then put Appalachian harmonies on it. It's all funky grooves with dark guitars, burning guitars. People were tweeting me, 'Are you keeping it country?' And the truth is: No, I'm keeping it real. Not to a

genre, but to what these songs are.



"It's an imperfect balancing act: a lesson in compassion and grace and tolerance. You know, all these songs are either requiring it or exhibiting it."



Cook laughs as she says this, knowing full well it's in banging into the furniture and stumbling down the halls that one learns to walk through the dark.

"Get out there and make mistakes – and don't apologize! I'm not ashamed. This happened – and I'll tell you all about it."
Venue Information:
Duling Hall
622 Duling Ave
Jackson, MS, 39216
http://www.dulinghall.com/