Todd Snider, the beloved troubadour, poet, hippie preacher, and itinerant philosopher who became one of Americana music’s most distinctive voices, has died. He was 59 years old.

The news was announced on Saturday morning by Aimless, Inc., his longtime record label and management team: “Aimless, Inc. Headquarters is heartbroken to share that our Founder, our Folk Hero, our Poet of the World, our Vice President of the Abrupt Change Dept., the Storyteller, our beloved Todd Daniel Snider has departed this world.”

Born October 11th, 1966, in Portland, OR, and raised in nearby Beaverton, Snider spent more than three decades carving out a singular place in American music. Since his 1994 debut Songs for the Daily Planet, he released 18 studio albums that redefined and revitalized country, folk, and Americana with sharp social commentary, irreverent humor, and profound humanity.

Snider’s path to music began in 1985 when he saw Jerry Jeff Walker perform, which inspired him to forge a career as a solo troubadour rather than fronting a band. “I didn’t even know how to really play guitar yet, but I saw his show and went and got one,” he recalled in a 2004 interview. He began writing songs the next day.

His early career found him learning at the feet of songwriting visionaries. He met John Prine in 1991 after moving to Memphis—forming a friendship that lasted until Prine’s death in 2020—and got his first break when Jimmy Buffett signed him to Margaritaville Records in 1993.

While Snider never achieved mainstream stardom, his influence rippled throughout modern folk, alt-country, and Americana. He discovered Sierra Ferrell busking on the streets of Nashville and connected her with his manager. Jason Isbell opened for him just before Southeastern launched Isbell to wider acclaim, and he officiated Isbell and Amanda Shires‘ wedding in 2013. He mentored Hayes Carll, collaborated with artists from Patty Griffin to Elizabeth Cook, and fronted the jam-rock supergroup Hard Working Americans alongside Dave Schools, Neal Casal, and Duane Trucks.

“Todd Snider rules” became a catchphrase among his devoted fans—a sentiment captured in his song “Alright Guy”, which was covered by artists including Gary Allan and Jerry Jeff Walker.

Snider’s songwriting magic lay in his ability to balance devastating emotional truth with absurdist humor. Aaron Lee Tasjan, who produced Snider’s final album, captured the essence of his artistry: “I thought that perhaps, getting to work with him on an album would be the perfect opportunity I’d been waiting on for 20 years to understand how he really does it. But do you know what I learned? I learned that Todd Snider is a real, actual magician. And there would be no tricks. There was just Todd Snider and his real magic.”

When the pandemic hit in 2020, Snider launched a livestream series from his Purple Building Studio in East Nashville that eventually became The First Agnostic Church of Hope and Wonder. Every Sunday at 10 a.m., he performed for fans, working through his entire catalog chronologically while also recording a funk-influenced album of the same name.

“Agnostics believe in things, they just admit they don’t know first,” Snider told L4LM in a 2021 interview. “You can’t really have a faith without being agnostic. You can’t believe in something until you don’t know for sure.”

That commitment to questioning, to not knowing and remaining open, defined both his worldview and his art. “I don’t share my opinions because they’re smart, I share them cause they rhyme,” he said.

In recent years, Snider faced mounting challenges. He lost a parade of friends and heroes, including John Prine, Kris Kristofferson, Jerry Jeff Walker, Billy Joe Shaver, Neal Casal, and Jeff Austin. He was onstage with Col. Bruce Hampton when Hampton died during a 2017 concert.

“I sing about dead friends more than girls these days,” Snider said in 2025. “I’ve lost like a lot of friends in the last year. I’ve had a couple that went on purpose. That’s been really hard and I’m grateful in times like this to have this outlet where I can sing.”

He also battled stenosis, a degenerative condition that left him unable to tour for extended periods. “My bones, they’re just awful. And they’re not going to get better,” he told L4LM in 2024. “I’m kind of in denial about it. It’s hard for me to stand up for very long.”

In early November 2025, Snider had just launched his first tour in three years supporting his record HIGH, LONESOME AND THEN SOME. when he was allegedly assaulted outside his hotel in Salt Lake City. The incident led to the cancellation of the entire tour and subsequent hospitalization.

Snider studied at the feet of giants and became one himself—never quite a star, but always an alright guy. He was, as he put it, “the sock you can’t find in the dryer”—essential, missed when absent, impossible to replace.

Now, with all his heroes gone, Snider himself has joined them. He leaves behind a body of work that cements his reputation as a spiritual descendent of the greats that came before and a faithful custodian of the American folk tradition, while also being uniquely, unmistakably Todd.