Earthquake: About Got Damm Time

by Dylan P. Gadino

If well-paced and finely crafted jokes are what you look for in a stand-up comedian, then Earthquake is not for you. But if you’re into the bottom-line only, then Earthquake will do just fine.

In About Got Damm Time , the former Nathaniel Stroman, armed with an unstoppable energy, whips a jammed pack crowd into frenzy after frenzy.Though the way he gets the crowd to that point is sometimes distracting, what with his sometimes messy delivery and his punctuating what seems like every other sentence with a “bitch,” “motherfucker,” or “nigga.”

At his core, Earthquake is raw, unapologetic and unlike many of his stand-up counterparts, he’s not concerned with segues or flow; he just wants to talk, charge around on stage and make people hyperventilate– which he does.

While he hits on the expected topics - race, relationships and war - he manages to do so with a dash of his own flavor. Talking of the war in Iraq and the country’s terrorists he questions, “Where’s the Klan at when you need them? Why aren’t they hanging some of these motherfuckers?”

He pokes fun at black people: “Aint no way no black family was on no boat for 40 days and 40 nights and didn’t eat them two chickens. I don’t know no nigga who can take that kind of pressure.” And he lets the raucous crowd know what type of ladies he’s into: “I like black women– slave black. I like my bitch so black she just lay in the bed and look like a hole in the sheets.”

The DVD’s bonus features include footage of Earthquake and friends hanging out at his Gulfport, Mississippi hotel room before the show, where the DC native shows off his leather “gators,” and his dinner, a massive plate of ribs. He even takes us inside the limo on the way to the show.

In the end, Earthquake is honest about what he does. The man spent 11 years in the Air Force where he loaded bombs into planes. Without mentioning his former career, he tells us how he got started in comedy. “I just started talking shit like this and it paid.”

Todd Barry: Medium Energy

by Christopher Q. Murphy

You couldn’t write a more mundane character. With his tone caught somewhere between self-effacing and disgruntled, but never any more than humdrum, Todd Barry is a model of mediocrity: half-balding, slight build, slouched shoulders and the most annoyed monotone this side of Steven Wright. Yeah, it sounds like a train wreck waiting to happen but this disc - newly re-released on Comedy Central Records is, by far, one of the funniest discs of the year.

From the get-go, you know exactly what you’re in for, as Barry, who sounds almost as if it’s a chore to even show up to the gig, let alone get on stage, opens with, “I’m gonna be doing a mixture of really old shit that I’m tired of, spiced up with a few things that are too new to be performed – but I’ll do them anyway.” While half of the audience let’s out a hearty laugh (already in on the joke), you can almost imagine the other half squirming in their seats, not quite sure what to make of the sullen man.

If you’re new to Barry, it takes a while to warm up to his tone and his take on things most comics wouldn’t bother with: how much “fruit sucks,” the difference in quality between Sanyo and Sony answering machine speakers and why the first chair viola playing with Guns N’ Roses at the Grammys needs sheet music while Slash doesn’t. The set on this disc is a veritable list of things Barry does and doesn’t like and luckily he brings his own unique brand of cynicism to each topic.

Barry breathes in sarcasm. Every sentence is muttered under his breath, giving extra zing to the running commentary he does on his own act: “Wow, I don’t think the fruit joke has even gone over this big” and “You were worried about that one and then, oh shit, you wound up applauding.” But don’t call him aloof– even if he does poke fun at an ex-audience member lodging a complaint with him being “too monotone.”

Tom Papa: Calm, Cool & Collected

by Dylan P. Gadino

Veteran performer Tom Papa, known nationally from his many appearances on late night talk shows and as the frequent opening act for Jerry Seinfeld, finally put his best bits on tape. Though his debut disc, Calm, Cool & Collected will seem a bit short – 35 minutes – for his diehard fans, it’s the perfect introduction for those not entirely familiar with his work.

Papa’s comedy is defined by his professionalism. He’s got an old school charm that makes him severely likeable. He also has a clean yet slightly edgy approach that makes him accessible to both college kids and their parents. Case in point: He talks of the requisite pain attached to breaking up. It’s pretty standard fare for a comic.

But as Papa puts it the real pain is, “all the secrets they take with them when they go. It’s very unsettling knowing there’s somebody out there that knows you like to be spanked with a naked G.I. Joe.”

He’s hilarious when he rails against well meaning pop psychologist friends who suggest that you live every day like it’s your last. “I think we have very different ideas of how that last day is going go down,” he says on Calm. “I’m going to be running through all the supermarkets in town stealing all the candy bars (he pauses) having sex with every cashier girl on the way out.”

Papa also has a way of disarming the crowd by constantly putting himself down, whether it’s talking about his giant head when he was three, being fat when he was a youth or, now, as he gets older, sweating from his bald spot when he eats spicy foods.

Though he’s not the type of comic that’ll have you reaching for oxygen halfway through the album, Papa is as solid as they come. His delivery is even throughout, his transitions seamless and his timing is impeccable. He’s the type of comic you need on the bill of every comedy show- just in case the rest are professional bombers.

Brian Regan: I Walked on the Moon

by Dylan P. Gadino

The only thing missing from Brian Regan’s legendary 1997 live CD is visuals. Now with the release of his debut DVD, I Walked on the Moon , his flexing brows, rapidly shifting eyes and cool-meets-dork swagger are documented in his performance at The Improv in Irvine, California.

Capturing the Miami native’s physical comedy helps make Moon a definitive, accurate representation of Regan’s entire package. He has the ability to magnify the smallest facet of each of his observations, keep it clean and make it funny. Regan is a surgeon.

He takes subjects with no inherent humor - the construction of a flight confirmation number, for example - splits it open, feels around and pulls out the smallest shard of humor. He picks that lifeless shard apart, exploits the idiocy of it and forces you to laugh at something that, a few moments ago, was far from funny.

The process of buying a refrigerator is hilarious once Regan gives the salesman qualities of a used car pusher: “This refrigerator had a meats drawer. And what you do with that, you would put meats - whatever varieties that you would choose - these would be your meats. So there’s no requirements on the types of meat. You could pick bacon, marbled meats; there’s an endless selection. And this [fridge] had a crisper– for crispy things.”

During the hour-long set, Regan takes care delivering longtime fans classic bits; his musings on why there’s a need for two sets of cooking directions for Pop Tarts, his frustration with UPS needing to know the girth of his boxes before they agree to send a truck over and his fear of eye exams and heavy breathing eye doctors are all included.

While he excels at keeping things light and funny with an endearing delivery, Regan is just as skilled at being viciously sarcastic. He attacks “me monsters,” those who can’t shut up about themselves at parties, airplane passengers trying to fit “a dead yak” in overhead storage and the phone company’s refusal to connect his phone without it causing “hell on earth.” The combination of good-natured joking and gentle cynicism makes Regan without a doubt, the funniest clean comic of his generation. Sorry, Seinfeld fans.