There comes a time when an artist transcends. When an album feels so effortless, words falling out the mouth with ease, melodies forming in seconds, you realise they’ve reached a place of complete comfort with their art and their songwriting. Tyler Childers may have been at this point for a while, but Snipe Hunter is a victory lap for the most innovative creator of contemporary country music.
Several of the songs on Snipe Hunter aren’t exactly new, but they are all now fully formed. ‘Oneida’ is a hand reaching out, begging for someone to love you back over a warm fiddle, hoping their head falls between neck and collarbone. Meanwhile, the updated version of ‘Nose on the Grindstone’ is a haunting revision, enough to give you frostbite. Rick Rubin’s production creates the feeling of a journey that mirrors that of the lyrics. Layered beautifully, the song attempts to grow with subtle organ and strings, yet still remains strangled by the past, a starkness striking throughout.
Throughout, Rick Rubin’s production seems to have given Childers additional confidence in his vocal delivery. It’s more dynamic across the album, taking on a wider variety and styles of songs, different tones, tempos and emotions and executing all with precision. ‘Cuttin’ Teeth’ is the softest his voice has ever sounded.
It’s as if Childers is still searching for something within his art. Even when revisiting old tropes, there’s a freshness as he pulls himself out of his comfort zone, determined to set out on a new course.
‘Poachers’ is a trademark hunting song set to Celtic drumming, propelling the song forward, only missing a choir chorus of thousands of drunks that’ll surely join in when played live. Meanwhile ‘Tirtha Yatra’ explores his intrigue in Indian culture, scripture and religion. A secret tunnel of a chorus chanting ‘Hare Krishna’ on repeat links this to ‘Tomcat and a Dandy’, which features Childers’ typically ambiguous poetry.
In between the softer moments, Tyler Childers is a cat playing with a mouse. ‘Bitin’ List’ is a flush of high-speed honky tonk. Full of hate, evil and sinister, it counters everything TikTokers think about the ‘All Yourn’ singer. The lyrics are playfully violent, whilst the music and production forces you to dance. It’s Childers at his brilliantly contradictory and innovative best.
‘Down Under’ is Springsteen in sound, but even The Boss would struggle to write a churning pop song about the dangers of Australian wildlife. Between warnings about koala bears and kangaroos, crocodilian convicts and the criminally insane, Childers produces a catchy, venomous stadium anthem.
Continuing to reinvent, the album’s title track teases to begin with, Tyler’s evil laughter taunting before a rock ‘n’ roll song jumps out of the ground, like a game of whack-a-mole. It’s a sound of chaos never really seen before on a Tyler Childers record, but his Kentucky drawl suits it, as it does most songs. A raging bonfire of guitars, harmonica and whatever else, it’s when the organ breaks through for a final finishing flourish that confirms this track as the album’s statement piece.
This is an organic meal, made with love and care and attention. None of this ‘entire meal in a drink’ nonsense. Tyler Childers has grown his own vegetables, reared his own meat, prepared the stock and set the table, presenting a delicious banquet to feast on.
