(It’s never too late to pimp a comedy CD. This review was submitted to a magazine that never left the drawing board. Now it’s here for you.)
Dwight York does not want to waste your time.
As the title suggests, York is a rapid-fire guy firmly in the laughs-per-minute mode. Him starting a show by saying “I hope you like jokes” is like Butch Cassidy telling The Sundance Kid “I hope you like water” after they jump off that cliff…because here it comes, ready or not.
Quickies is certainly funny enough to appeal universally. York isn’t constantly mining the deep subtleties that a Steven Wright (or even Mitch Hedberg) base their punch lines upon, but he is clever as hell. In other words, you don’t have to think below the surface all the time, but often you’ll be rewarded if you do. His laid-back nature and off-putting style looks casual, but his persona is the result of almost twenty years of grinding it out from part-time comic to joke writer to performer.
Between his dramatic enunciation and his twisted logic, his style is most reminiscent of Emo Philips; if you like Emo, you will love Dwight York. He has the skill to drop a corny but funny line, follow it with a subtle but filthy joke, and then toss up an ironic statement (which those getting the subtle joke a second too late are still laughing over, of course). Then rinse and repeat – he’s got a million of ’em, and the gold far exceeds the clunkers.
Listen to some clips on Amazon.
Although most of his jokes are short and sweet, he resists the temptation to blast through them at a machine gun pace. He’s got great timing and delivery, and although he’s the antithesis of the storyteller comic, he does weave in some great call backs. You’ll find yourself wanting him to keep peppering your brain with zingers even though part of you is crying out for a chance to breathe.
Recorded at the Skyline Comedy Club (Appleton, Wisconsin), Quickies boasts great production quality; everything is crystal clear even though the audience is laughing hard from start to finish. And since it clocks in about 50 minutes, you (like them) should be prepared for aching ribs afterwards.
Dwight’s page at Stand Up! Records
The Vile File (Jokes too Sick For The Stage). Excerpts here.
And R.I.P. Malcolm McLaren, fashion impresario and partial ringleader of the circus known as The Sex Pistols. Whether you believe the story told in The Great Rock And Roll Swindle, The Filth and the Fury or There’ll Always Be an England, McLaren was anything from an opportunist to a Svengali. But he was in the middle of it all, wasn’t he?