Sat, Dec 12. | LA Weekly & Goldenvoice Present:
Todd Snider with Ashleigh Flynn
Doors @ 8pm | $25
**The El Rey Holiday Food Drive!!! We will be holding a food drive at the Son Volt and Todd Snider shows this Friday and Saturday. One in four children in Los Angeles, live at or below the poverty line. Of the households served by the Foodbank, 42% have one or more adults in the workforce, yet thousands of these families are forced to choose between paying rent and buying groceries.
Donate non-perishable food items at the box office! Much needed food items include canned protein such as tuna, sardines, stew, and soups, PB & J, canned fruits and vegetables, fruit juices, beans, rice, pasta and personal care items like lotion and deodorant. Help us support our less fortunate neighbors during this holiday season!**
*This is a partially seated show
Keith Richards said humor was rock and roll's greatest weapon, Bob Dylan proved it and Snider takes it to heart. For twelve years, Snider has been a satirist, class cutup and the rare artist who understands and celebrates the connections between the Stones, Dylan, Bill Hicks, John Prine, Mitch Hedberg, Kris Kristofferson, Hunter S. Thompson and Randy Newman. Snider's records are fun even when they aren't being funny, funny even when they're sad, and no less truthful for the laughs. Which brings us to The Devil You Know, a sparkling, smiling, snarling portrait of the doomed. Todd Snider is not Jim Morrison, thanks in part to the influences of folks like Jerry Jeff Walker, John Prine, Kris Kristofferson and Billy Joe Shaver, troubadour luminaries who at this point look to Snider as the next in their peculiar line. Shaver likes to say of his younger acolyte, "He reminds me of me," and that statement reflects well on both men. These days, Snider sells out theatres, and sells out the large clubs he plays if the owner will agree to put chairs down for people to sit and listen. The Devil You Know starts and ends with uncertainly and moves through manual labor, prostitution, heartbreak, crime and fidelity in the middle. "Poor people have Thanksgiving, too," is something Snider repeats every now and again, and this album brings us people who greet hard luck and bad karma with parties, curses, promises and bottle-swigs. And then there's "A Tale Of Two Fraternity Brothers," a glimpse at the other side of the coin and an evocation of the good times of a couple of buddies, one of whom winds up as the leader of the free world. With The Devil You Know, Snider has assembled a bag of songs that speak to the politics of the day without ever speaking politics, that talk to the wars being fought away from cameras or reporters and that balance truth, beauty and humor. "I'm a gypsy first and a singer second, and I always will be," he says. But he's married now � his wife, Melita Osheowitz Snider, painted the cover of The Devil You Know � and lives in a house with a sweet rooftop bar that has become local legend. As for that gypsy spirit, he need not worry about it. Performers wander the world for a living, and the best ones do it for the rest of their lives. Todd Snider is one for the wandering.