In Doug Stanhope’s new comedy album of his live show in Oslo, Norway, he begins his set by telling his Norwegian audience of the misunderstanding that took place when he bought Applesinjuice (that’s how it’s spelled) only to find that a beverage that sounds and is almost spelled like apple juice in their country is actually orange juice. “Thank you,” he says with a chuckle when they applaud him, “for my clever observation.” It’s a joke meant to sound as if a middle schooler with comedy aspirations wrote it. What is to follow, however, is nothing that would originate from a mere adolescent – not your typical one, at least. It’s raw and raunchy, it makes no apologies for its many offenses. Listening to the album, Oslo: Burning the Bridge to Nowhere, is like listening to that rowdy and entertaining friend who spins compelling stories and commentaries over lots of drinks, using all sorts of colorful words and descriptions to express himself, and having a good time doing it.
Doug Stanhope is known to smoke and drink on stage. He isn’t one to shy away from touchy subject matters in his stand-up. His voice is gravelly and hard-hitting. If you’re an asshole in his audience, he isn’t afraid to chew you out and put you in your place. He has also incited violent reactions from the very people whom he wants to make laugh.
You won’t find the latter in his new album, but you will find plenty of reasons to laugh in the stories and diatribes he yells with conviction. The first part of his set explores the oddities and pleasures he’s encountered in Norway. He points out the stupidity of having a figurehead Royal Family that does nothing except waste tax-payer’s money. He expresses his distaste for heritage and tradition, which Norwegians carry on respectfully in their country, and Doug Stanhope considers nothing more than Dead People’s Baggage. And perhaps best in this early part of the album is when he expresses his thanks to the female portion of his Norwegian audience for their Stinkless Pussy, which he claims is so sterile that, according to Wikipedia, has the power to remove the stink from dog feces.
This is the kind of brash and unapologetic humor Stanhope has made a prodigious career out of. But as candid and derogatory as his comedy is at times, he’s likeable and one can see that in this album. Many tough guy, in- your-face comics are just as raunchy and brash as Stanhope, but can be callous and unreceptive of their audience’s appreciation. In contrast, it’s easy to sense Stanhope is happy to be performing for us. At one point, he says to his audience in jest, Stop laughing so hard, you’re ruining my timing. He enjoys his audience and strives to make them happy. In interviews he has described his nervousness before performing, and the extra anxiety he feels when doing it in front of a foreign audience because he’s afraid he won’t be able reach them. But as much as he appreciates those who laugh at his material, in one bit he expresses his frustration whenever he spots an audience member filming one of his shows. He doesn’t get why his fans won’t just sit back and relax instead of bothering with a phone camera to make a record of the show for later viewing, which, in his opinion, would not even remotely convey the experience of being at a live performance. He says on the album that any person who does that at one of his shows deserves impalement by spinning dildo, and goes on to describe a disturbingly vivid picture of just that.
The remainder of the album includes tracks discussing Obama’s lacking presidency, the need for abortion, and the Susan Boyle phenomenon, labeling her an ugly woman who can sing, and likening her first television appearance to that of King Kong’s public unveiling. But what’s so compelling about his comedy is the social commentary he injects into it, calling us – the human race – on our shittiness when the audience members at Britain’s Got Talent jeered the “ugly” Boyle, but only until she exhibited incredible singing talent.
Like Louie C.K., Stanhope is at that point in his career when a lot of his material derives from the self-deprecating perception he has of himself. Some of the best parts of the album have him describe his deteriorating physique, the pity he feels for the attractive women he considers out of his league who end up having sex with him because he’s a celebrity. In the track titled “Hello, Sarah?” he acts out a phone call in which a girl tearfully describes to her friend the horrific time she had spending the night with the comic.
Stanhope’s showbiz success after he dropped out of high school didn’t come easy. But after twenty-one years in the business he’s done a number of acclaimed TV specials, his live shows have been named “The best of the year” for several years, he hosted his own radio show for SIRIUS Satellite, and he’s won comedy awards leaving Dane Cook in his dust, and listening to this album you can see why.
"Oslo: Burning the Bridge to Nowhere" is on sale May 3, 2011 from Roadrunner Comedy.
