'Eatin’ Big Time' by Tyler Childers – Lyrics & Meaning

‘Eatin' Big Time’ is the initial introduction to Tyler Childers' latest era, the first track of his new album, Snipe Hunter, setting the stage for the weird and wonderful voyage that is this record's 13 tracks.

What starts off as a bit of a head-scratcher, the carnivorous number singing of culling bucks and counting checks, ‘Eatin' Big Time’ quickly morphs into an autobiographical opus about what it feels like to have "made it."

As the 'Feathered Indians' hitmaker croons of eating high on the hog and having more leftover, listeners get a sense of where the artist has been and where he's headed.

From the count, ‘Eatin' Big Time’ is a full-bodied boogie, a swaggering number emboldened by strutting strings and a diligent beat. Childers, himself, sounds wonderfully impassioned, some grit coating his crystalline croon, throughout the song.

The tune is layered and brilliantly complex, a textured masterwork of sleek grooves and hypnotic riffs, as the eclectic genius of producer Rick Rubin shines through.

"I wasn’t braced and kissed my face
With the scope of my rifle
I had shot it from a blind as in you’d be blind not to see"

The term ‘Eatin' Big Time’ is often associated with Childers' band, The Food Stamps, many thinking it a play on the electronic benefit transfer, or EBT, that comes with the government assistance program.

Here, though, Childers and his band sing of their success and how they've managed to do well for themselves and live high on the hog thanks to their talents.

The song opens on a hunting scene, Childers having shot a deer that a "richer" man had been eyeing from his nearby mansion. He, however, won out in the end. It then goes into the processing of said animal, the artist cleaning it of every bit of muscle and hide. He sings: "And it did not cut one corner / As I carved that fat neck mother right down to the bone."

When he eventually cooks the meat, he does so while eying his "albums gold and platinum / Overflowing to the ceiling" and can't help but feel blessed for the life he's made for himself.

He gets that "eatin' big time" feeling, looking around, at his certified records and the fancy watch on his wrist, at all he has accomplished and how far he has come.

"It’s fought for like a bitch and it’s a bitch to keep it goin’
When they ain’t nobody knowin’
Any prayer you’ve ever sang
See me now I’m on the sow
And I’m riding to your city
Eatin big time ain’t she pretty ain’t she witty ain’t she great"

He attests in the song that this journey hasn't been easy – that "it’s a bitch to keep it goin’," or it's been a difficult way of living to maintain – but it's all been worth it in the end for that "eatin' big time" feeling.

No matter how hard he works or how far he's traveled, he always comes home a ravenous man, eager to feast on the life he has managed to provide for himself and for those around him. And he's not taking an ounce of it for granted.

He's determined to relish it all, swearing he'll get "tick full" on this life before it's over.

"She pets my head and whispers “You poor thing you must be famished”
I just knew that this would happen I got all the fixins made
I’ll get tick full ‘fore I ever pull myself off of this table
Eatin big time ain’t she pretty just rollin’ in the shade
Eatin big time in the holler ain’t it lovely ain’t it great"

I wasn’t braced and kissed my face
With the scope of my rifle
I had shot it from a blind as in you’d be blind not to see

That there’s a man in the doorway
Of a mother fucking mansion
Aiming at the feeder where you’d sat to take a feast

That’s what I said that’s what I did
And it did not cut one corner
As I carved that fat neck mother right down to the bone

I let him hang for several days
And then I cut off hide and scriffin’
I cut it thin then throw it in a tupperware to soak

Fried some pieces while I worked
It tasted like I made it
Fried in Wagner casted butter in a quiet country place

With albums gold and platinum
Overflowing to the ceiling
Eatin big time is a feelin’ with the friends that I have made

Keep my time on my Weiss
Ya goddamn right I’m flexing
Cause a thousand dollar watch is fine enough flex for me

Have you ever got to hold and blow a thousand fucking dollars
It runs for 40 hours and then it winds itself to sleep

It’s fought for like a bitch and it’s a bitch to keep it goin’
When they ain’t nobody knowin’
Any prayer you’ve ever sang
See me now I’m on the sow
And I’m riding to your city
Eatin big time ain’t she pretty ain’t she witty ain’t she great

Ain’t she great ain’t she grand
In my world she’s irreplaceable
I’m her surfboard in the kitchen
My blessings come in waves

She’s my rebirth she’s my lemonade
My gravy and my biscuits
Mama I’ve been out there huntin’ Imma need you to make a plate

She pets my head and whispers “You poor thing you must be famished”
I just knew that this would happen I got all the fixins made
I’ll get tick full ‘fore I ever pull myself off of this table
Eatin big time ain’t she pretty just rollin’ in the shade
Eatin big time in the holler ain’t it lovely ain’t it great

--

For more on Tyler Childers, see below: