[rating=3.00]
Acerbic, arcane, and completely chaotic, Reggie Watts is one of the hottest names in comedy right now. Part funk musician, part beat-boxer, and full-time improvisational humorist, Watts has gained a great deal of exposure largely due to Conan O’Brien, who championed him as the opening act on last summer’s Legally Prohibited From Being on Television tour (Watts hilariously refers to him as Jimmy Fallon during this set). Since then, he has been touring worldwide and making frequent guest spots on Conan’s new late-night TBS talk show.
Here, Watts pops up in front of a smaller, intimate audience on Jack White’s Third Man Records Stage in Nashville, and offers forth a great deal of civic pride, with numerous nods to the city’s real and imagined manufacturing might, downtown renaissance, and recent flood damage. Immediately, listeners are drawn into Watts’ stream-of-consciousness banter which carries him indiscriminately across a wide range of random and nonsensical topics. Want Watts’ thoughts on Smurfs or Star Wars action figures? He’ll mumble them to you and then sing you a song to elaborate. Curious about the health content of certain popular snack foods? Watts will rap their ingredients back at you. Want to hear a descriptively literate story of robot confusion narrated in a peacefully comforting English accent? Watts will gladly oblige.
These are but a few of the many madcap moments of insanity that populate the album, as Watts keeps the audience on its toes by instantly segueing from one sketch to the next and inhabiting characters and accents with abandon. Some of the skits, like when Watts takes the persona of an aging Southern rock legend toying with new studio technology on “Every Day is Like Sunday”, work really well, as the words and music piece together in a truly sensible way. Other times, Watts’ comedy story-songs go a bit past their saturation point and lack originality; a main offender being “Working Nights on the Night Shift”, the type of premise better executed by Flight of the Conchords or Andy Samberg’s Lonely Island.
However, the misses are few and Watts is truly a unique and entertaining performer, in the arcane tradition of Kaufman and Hedberg. Edgier and more comprehensive than what casual fans may have caught on Conan, Live at Third Man serves as a worthy introduction to Watts’ full range of comedic talents. One only wishes for a DVD version to document the looks of befuddlement on fans’ faces
