By Brian D’Ambrosio
The title of Aaron Lee Tasjan’s new album, Get Over It, Underdog (due out July 17th), lands with a wink. It sounds like something muttered after a hard knock, equal parts encouragement and resignation. That mix of humor, resilience, and self-awareness runs throughout one of the most rewarding records of Tasjan’s career, a collection that explores the many meanings of being an underdog while celebrating the oddballs, originals, and unlikely heroes who keep finding reasons to carry on.
Hovering over the album is the enduring influence of the late Todd Snider, whose friendship and mentorship helped guide Tasjan through a pivotal chapter of his life and creative journey.
“When I first met Todd, it was 2006,” Tasjan recalls. “I really started playing songs for Todd by playing him his songs. I wanted to show him how much I had studied him. I had internalized his music.”
What began as admiration gradually became a genuine friendship. After hearing Tasjan perform backstage, Snider invited him to keep playing. Those informal moments eventually gave Tasjan the confidence to share his own work.
“I emailed him this song called ‘Don’t Walk Away,’” Tasjan says. “Ten minutes later he wrote me back and said, ‘Man, I just listened to it five times in a row. This is great.’ Then he invited me out on tour.”
Night after night, Snider introduced the younger songwriter with extraordinary generosity.
“He told his audience, ‘You’re going to hear a lot about East Nashville, but I think this kid is the best one.’ I just remember thinking, ‘What does he see in me?’”
Instead of inflating his confidence, the compliment became motivation.
“I tried to let it inspire me to keep trying as hard as I could to write a great song.”
That pursuit shaped Get Over It, Underdog. Snider co-wrote “The Real,” championed new material as it developed, and remained an enthusiastic sounding board until shortly before his death. When Tasjan played him “Science Friction” on acoustic guitar, Snider interrupted midway through the opening verse.
“He said, ‘Wait a minute… did you just open a song with the lines “Scrawny women and cold sores and traffic?”‘ I said, ‘Yeah.’ He laughed and said, ‘I don’t need to hear the rest. Play me the rest of this one.’”
The biggest lessons Snider offered had little to do with craft.
“He taught me this isn’t about you,” Tasjan says. “If you’re doing a song the right way, you build a little bridge between your life and the lives of other people.”
That perspective informs the entire album. Tasjan isn’t interested in underdogs simply because they’re overlooked. He’s fascinated by people who quietly make the world more interesting through originality, compassion, or stubborn individuality.
Among them is comedian Jonathan Winters.
“He was this beautiful, humble guy who was never threatened by anybody else,” Tasjan says. “Kind of like Todd.”
Winters’ generosity toward younger performers, especially Robin Williams, left a lasting impression. Rather than guarding his place, he celebrated others’ success. Tasjan sees the same quality in Snider.
Another formative influence is Mitch Hedberg, whose surreal observations reshaped Tasjan’s understanding of humor.
“I realized you don’t need a punchline to be funny.”
One favorite Hedberg story perfectly illustrates that outlook. After a chauffeur launched into a nasty tirade, Hedberg stopped for sandwiches, handed one to the driver, and later explained his reasoning: “It’s really hard to say racist stuff with a mouthful of sandwich.”
Tasjan delights in both the wit and the kindness.
“His way of looking at the world and solving problems in such a loving, creative and funny way—I really appreciate that.”
Those influences—Snider, Hedberg, Warren Zevon, Randy Newman, Jonathan Winters—share an uncommon trait. Each trusted an unmistakable artistic voice over commercial expectations. Each found humor without sacrificing emotional depth.
Tasjan has followed much the same path.
“I’ve been able to continue doing the work. The audience keeps growing.”
The greatest rewards come in quiet conversations after concerts. Fans tell him they walked down the aisle to one of his songs. Others describe finding comfort in difficult seasons or introducing their children to his music.
“It makes me feel really grateful that I kept going.”
That persistence gives Get Over It, Underdog its emotional center. The record suggests that being an underdog isn’t about losing. It’s about remaining curious, compassionate, funny, and defiantly yourself, even when recognition arrives slowly.
Asked what Todd Snider ultimately gave him, Tasjan doesn’t hesitate.
“Todd’s the guy who taught me all of that stuff,” he says. “As long as I live, there will never be another one.”
There may be no better tribute than Get Over It, Underdog—an album full of wit, empathy, hard-earned wisdom, and songs that invite listeners onto the same bridge Snider spent a lifetime building.
Photo: Wayne Millard
Brian D’Ambrosio is the author of Troubadour Truths: Truth, Songs, and the Long Way Home. His archives at Glide Magazine can be accessed here: Brian D’Ambrosio – Glide Magazine
Brian D'Ambrosio 