I first saw Andy Kindler live almost a decade ago at the
Just For Laughs Festival in Montreal, where he gives his annual State of the
Industry Address. In a week’s worth of shows featuring the biggest names in
comedy, it was Kindler’s Address that no one wanted to miss, that everyone told
me was a must-see. It didn’t disappoint. Kindler was and is brutal. He
excoriated comedians, actors, television shows in front of an audience that
most probably contained a fair amount of the people he was targeting.
I didn’t escape the week without comment, either. I made the
mistake of sitting up front with my arms folded at on of Kindler’s alternative
comedy showcases. I was trying to keep my elbows to myself, but it looked like
I was sitting their stiff and judging. And so it became a standoff, because
once someone makes fun of your posture, you can’t change it, or they win. It
should be noted, though, I was laughing.
When I spoke to Kindler the next year at Just For Laughs, he
didn’t really remember the incident, but he laughed at my retelling. I told him
that I hoped he’d find a venue to play in Boston one of these days. I would
loved to have told people about him when I had my weekly column at the Globe.
Alas, he is finally here, and that column is gone. But I do have this blog, and
I would encourage anyone who enjoys the sarcastic arts to head out to the
Charles Playhouse Lounge tonight or the Davis Square Theatre tomorrow to see
Kindler finally headline in Boston, as part of the Boston Comedy Festival. And
sit with your arms to the side.
For those of you who recognize Kindler from Last Comic
Standing or Everybody Loves Raymond but haven’t seen his standup, here’s a clip
of him on Letterman from earlier this year. His part starts at about 2:05.
Lamont Price uses the word "emerging" to describe the group of comics he's hosting tonight at Club Oberon as part of his Comedy Is King showcase. It's worth noting that Price, Tony Moschetto, and Dan Crohn are well-known to avid Boston comedy fans. They are currently staples of the scene. But that doesn't mean all of you reading this know them, or could rattle off your favorite of their jokes. But more of you might be soon.
"The term 'emerging' is basically a good way to let the audience know that the comedians they are seeing are at the forefront of breaking huge and this is a great chance to see them now before they get expensive," says Price. "I mean, Tony Moschetto, Dan Crohn and Mikey Walz on one show? Wont be $15 in a few years!"
Walz is the other comic on the line-up, and he'll be making his East Coast debut. Price speaks highly of him. "He's a hilarious comedian in a very competitive San Francisco comedy scene and he has Boston roots, so this figured to be a no brainer," he says. "Also, we want this to be a show comedians from all country want to perform at."
There are plans for more editions of Comedy Is King. Price says there will be another one in January, and the hope is to do it every month. "You figure it makes for a great show when you have hilarious comedians that all get along," he says. "I want a carefree environment."
Barry Crimmins is back in town today for a run of shows, including the Roast of Barry Crimmins, part of the Boston Comedy Festival schedule tonight. A bunch of Crimmins' old friends, and a few newer ones, will be on hand at the Charles Playhouse Lounge for that, including Steven Wright, Steve Sweeney, Jimmy Tingle, Tony V, Dan Wasserman, Mike McDonald, Niki and Lainey of The Steamy Bohemians, Randy Credico, Billy Bob Neck, and John Ennis. Before that, though, he'll be out at Occupy Boston at 4PM to address the crowd.
On Saturday, you'll get to see Crimmins at his best, doing a headlining set at the New England Folk Music Archives in Somerville, at the Arts at the Armory Space on Highland Ave. That show is the official kickoff of Crimmins "Occupation: Occupation" tour. It'll be his first full-length show in Boston since last year's shows with Erin Judge and Dennis Perrin at Mottley's. Billy Bob Neck and Tim Mason are also on that bill.
And if you want to see Crimmins one more time before he heads out of town, he's part of a phenomenal bill for the Friend of Mine: Tribute to Bill Morrissey show at the Somerville Theatre on Thursday, November 17. I'm not sure if this is the complete line-up, but so far that show will include Peter Case, Shawn Colvin, David Johansen, Mark Erelli, John Gorka, Peter Keane, Fred Koller, Cormac McCarthy (the musician), PAtty Larkin, and Pete Nelson. The night will be hosted by Cliff Eberhardt and David Dye. Mr. Morrissey died of heart failure in July. It's easy to see his influence, as a musician and as a friend, just by looking at that list.
We're lucky to have Crimmins for so many shows, and that he's still standing to do them after a recent accident precipitated by his dogs, Lettie and Lu, trying to draw and quarter him on a walk near his Upstate New York home. Here's Crimmins' recounting of that story, and a bit more about the shows, from his blog.
I don’t know exactly what is going to happen when I head out to see Bill Bailey Tuesday night at the House of Blues. And that’s on purpose. I know the DVD of this tour, Dandelion Mind, has already been released in the UK. I know he was in two great U.K. shows – Black Books and Spaced. I know he is a funny stand-up and a talented musician. In other words, I would be absolutely shocked if I didn’t enjoy the show, and I don’t want to ruin it be watching too many clips of material I might see Tuesday. But for the uninitiated, here’s a hint of what we can expect.
And here he is at work with the wonderful Dylan Moran:
Barry Crimmins and Bill Morrissey played two shows together in 2006 at Jimmy Tingle's Off Broadway Theater in Davis Square - Morrissey and Crimmins: Two Lives Only! I was still writing the weekly Comedy Notes column for the Boston Globe at that time, and one thing I always enjoyed doing was stretching the subject matter outside the bounds of what people would normally expect to see under the word "Comedy." This show was a perfect example.
Crimmins and Morrissey were both masters of their respective arts, comedy and folk music. And Morrissey had a great sense of humor that was perhaps more obvious onstage than on the studio albums. I got to explore Morrissey's work and have a great conversation with him.
Since then, I had always hoped I'd have the chance to speak with Morrissey again. So it was with great sadness that I learned of his death on July 23. He passed away in a Georgia hotel room while touring. But I'm grateful for the one conversation, and that I got to see him on a wonderful night with Crimmins. The following is a greatly expanded version of the Comedy Notes column I wrote for the Boston Globe, originally published May 5, 2006.
It should be noted that this piece doesn't come close to the emotional resonance of Crimmins' remembrance from his blog, Farewell, Hercules... Bill Morrissey 1951-2011. A highly recommended read.
Barry Crimmins and Bill Morrissey bring a bit of Boston history with them tonight and tomorrow when they hit the stage at Jimmy Tingle's Off Broadway. Between the two of them, they've seen or inspired some of Boston's best and brightest in comedy and music.
But since Crimmins now lives just outside of Bath, New York and Morrissey in New Hampshire, they haven't played Boston together since the early nineties. "We're both Boston guys, so meeting up in Boston is the greatest," says Crimmins. We both made our stones in that town."
When they first met at a hip basement club off Harvard Square called the Idler almost twenty-five years ago, they had just started to establish themselves in their respective fields. Crimmins was the creative force behind the Ding Ho, the epicenter of Boston comedy that produced luminaries like Steven Wright and Lenny Clarke. Morrissey was on his way towards recording the music that would lead Ted Drozdowski of the Boston Phoenix to call him the "musical poet laureate of New England."
Crimmins was drawn to Morrissey's writing and sense of humor, and was surprised to find Morrissey had seen him perform at the Ding Ho. Once they started talking, they found they both had an appreciation for the folk work ethic and progressive politics. "I think we're sort of, even though Bill's certainly not overtly political, his work is kind to the little guy and stands up to the big guy, and I'd like to think that's what my work's about," says Crimmins. "I always talked about doing comedy with a big target, and I've never enjoyed people who just, you know, make fun of [the little guy]. Bill's the kind of guy that if he sees a homeless guy, something will soak in and three days later there'll be a genius song about the guy. He finds a context for the humanity of people that might otherwise be overlooked. He sticks up for regular people. His work really notices that their lives matter. That's pretty great."
Crimmins and Morrissey are also considered great writers in their respective fields, although Crimmins would give Morrissey the advantage there. Where Crimmins sticks to nonfiction and current culture, Morrissey can get to truth by creating stories and characters with a master's eye for detail. "One of his songs is like a great novel," says Crimmins. "In one song he gets so much texture, so much character, he has such an eye. And then the other thing, of course he's a folk musician, but if you listen to what he's been doing over the past several years, he always grows musically. He's always adding stuff. And it's because he's not just home listening to Pete Seeger albums. He has wonderful other influences. He knows the blues backwards and forwards, he knows jazz, he knows everything."
Morrissey would agree that he and Crimmins share a sense of politics, but Morrissey thinks Crimmins' humor can cross political lines. "Although Barry is to the left, as I am, his humor will make conservatives laugh," he says. "You know, he's certainly not afraid to poke fun at the left. And I've sat there with very conservative people in his audience and they didn't wanna like him. But despite what they wanted, they did and they were laughing. Which I think is the sign of a great comic, a man whose got a great perspective. Barry just doesn't go out and preach to the converted, which would be a very easy gig. You know, folk singers do that, too. Political folks singers. Just go out and sing to their audience."
If his sound changes, it's because he's made a discovery that could fall anywhere on the musical spectrum, beyond era or genre. Morrissey likes to explore. "I don't listen to just folk music," he says. "I listen to a lot of jazz, a lot of classic jazz. I listen to old country, because there really isn't any new country. I listen to country and western, and nowadays the closest you can get to that is country and suburban. I listen to classical. I just have an appreciation for good songwriting, or just good musicianship. I'm more than happy to just listen to Lester Young playing with Count Bassie."
It's not surprising, then, to hear Morrissey describe Crimmins' comedy in terms of music. He loves Crimmins' politics and his energy. He even jokingly frets about having to follow Crimmins at this weekend's shows. "He's just a roman candle onstage," says Morrissey. "He's his own Chicago blues band. He was just this unstoppable force."
"What he does and what I think a good musician does, a good songwriter grabs you by the lapels and says, 'Look, I've got to tell you something right now,'" he adds. :And he doesn't have to yell at you but he's got that urgency. As opposed to, 'Oh listen, I was just thinking, I want to talk to you about something.' It's like, 'No man, I've got to tell you this right now.' That's how Barry I think approaches his performing."
Crimmins is equally complimentary. "Actually, I don't think it's fair," he says. "His sense of humor is as good as mine and I can't carry a tune in a wheelbarrow. So it's really unfair. At least he doesn't rub in the fact that he's multi-talented and I'm semi-talented."
"I had one of his CDs in the car the other day," says Crimmins, "and I was listening about the immigration stuff, and I happen to hear his song 'The Man From Out of Town' - 'The laws are not made for the man from out of town.' And I thought, gee, you could translate that song into Spanish and it would really speak to that situation."
Though humor is an important part of Morrissey's show, offsetting his more somber songwriting, he says he could never do what Crimmins does. "I do incorporate a lot of comedy in what I do, but I would never get onstage without a guitar," he says. "I guess that's my security blanket. And I just enjoy the history of comedy, going back to Lenny Bruce and Lord Buckley and of course Jack Benny and people like that. Obscure people like Joe Ancis."
The mutual admiration society has continued throughout the years as the two have gigged together whenever possible and catch up when they are playing the same cities. "When he and I get together, the stories start coming out," says Crimmins. "They get better as you forget the details, because we're both writers and creative, and you know... you fill in the blank spots, it really moves it along."
Both have grown since their early Boston days. Morrissey is now a Grammy-nominated songwriter with ten albums and a novel to his credit. His eleventh is expected to be released on Rounder in September. Crimmins is one of the country's premiere political satirists, writing daily for "The Rhandi Rhodes Show" on Air America and working on an essay-driven book for the radio network.
"Bill and I are the same way in that we both have set the proverbial bar high enough for ourselves that we force ourselves to push and hustle every day," says Crimmins. "Not out of ambition but out of need to protect and continue our art."
Myq Kaplan is back in Boston tonight and tomorrow playing Dick's Beantown Comedy Vault. He's been busy, appearing on Conan (the show, hosted by the person, not on the person) and answering questions over at DearComic.com In case you missed it, here's his Conan set.
In a Boston scene that was known for being wild, Ken Rogerson was wilder than most. The 80s boom is often described as a free-for-all of incredibly funny people, several shows a night, and copious amounts of drugs and alcohol. Rogerson recently spoke with CNN about the scene, and I followed up with him to fill in a few more details. He’s still one of the funniest guys in town, and you can catch up with him at Giggles in Saugus this weekend.
I know this is something that a lot of the comics who lived through joke about with each other, is there any hesitancy about talking about it too much, or mythologizing it, to those who weren’t there?
No hesitancy at all about talking about it. For those of us who lived it, it happened. It was a very special time in the comedy world and we were a part of it. There were three clubs on the same street for a while. We made lots of money and hung around with some of the the funniest comics ever. Personally a lot of it was wasted on me because of the booze and drugs. I was never really aware of what a special thing we had going on. The drug part was the tragic part. I always make it a point when talking about the madness, funny though some of it may be, that it never ended up fun for me. The end of every drug and alcohol run was horrible. I want to pass that on to the new comics. None of tht shit makes you better. You just think it does.
Do you think Boston was any worse than other cities in terms of the partying and drugs?
Boston was worse than a lot of towns for partying cause there were more of us and we made more money. But quite honestly whatever town I was in I found people and comics to get fucked up with. We just did it on a grander scale.
Do you think people sometimes lose sight of the fact that there were so many legitimately funny people here when they focus on that aspect?
None of the people that were involved do.
You talk about stopping as a sort of epiphany – were you able to stop that quickly?
That epiphany took twenty-five plus years to happen.
How much different is your creative process now than back in those days?
I never really had any creative process. I snorted blow and wrote shit down. Some of it worked. some of it didn't. I enjoy writing and doing stand-up now, more then I ever did back then. Mostly I was about the party back then. The comedy paid to keep the party going. Today I sit and write and re-write and work on the things, other then stand-up, such as acting and screen writing, that I should have concentrated on back in the day instead of waiting for the dealer to show up. It's a million times more fun now and I'm in better shape physicaly now, then I was twenty or thirty years ago.
