Live review: Chris Rock, Paramount Theater, Oakland – Saturday, April 5, 2008
Stand-up comedy genius (and film actor with poor judgment) Chris Rock brought his No Apologies tour to Oakland’s Paramount Theater over the weekend, with four sold-out nights that sadly showed the fallibility of the modern-day Mark Twain.
Momentum was high following a solid set from regular opener Mario Joyner and a powerful slide show of African-American art from the likes of Kehinde Wiley and Basquiat. Rock was introduced via a fast-paced montage of news clips and sound bites featuring many of his impending targets, an appropriate segue considering Rock is a topical artist in the best sense. But his opening riff on one Ms. Spears was immediately tiresome considering her recent overexposure; it seemed distasteful at this point, even though he was actually defending her. “So they take her kids,” he said in his trademark grit, “but Bobby and Whitney keep theirs?! Even O.J. kept his kids, and he killed their mother!”
Still, Rock has a knack for finding gold in already exhausted territories, as evinced by a brilliant 30-minute bit on the current presidential candidates. “So if Hillary wins, she’s going to work every day in the same office where her husband got a blow job,” he said amid a sea of side-splitting shrieks. “There ain’t enough redecorating in the world to get rid of that!”
Rock also had fun with his choice Obama, using the candidate’s status as a reminder of how hard it still is to be a black man in America. “Until a black man ran for president,” he said, “I’d never heard of a ‘super delegate!’” His jokes still worked, although they were a little too respectful: “He’s got the blackest name next to Dkembe Motumbo!”
Not squandering much time on McCain beyond a couple of jokes (“Do we really want a president with a ‘bucket list’?” / “I don’t want to vote for someone who got captured; I want to vote for someone who got away!”), Rock knew that digs at Bush would go over much better. “He fucked up so bad, he made it hard for a white man to run for president!” he said early on. “No one gives less of a fuck than Bush,” he continued. “If you were hanging off a cliff and all you needed was someone to give a fuck, and Bush was at the top with a pocket full of fucks…”
And so went the nearly two-hour set of his trademark blend of socioeconomic concerns, the state of the union, and painfully honest & spot-on relationship wisdom. But although he still outshines virtually every other working stand-up comedian, Rock’s material failed to fully incite the Saturday night crowd, even though a good portion had already gotten their swerve at least halfway on.
One might think the large venue had a hand in the restrained reaction, but large venues are nothing new to Rock (his best TV special was filmed at the Apollo). More damaging was the derivative material, recycled from his past glories. When talking again about getting caught cheating, the previous “left turn” became the highway (“Did you take the highway with that bitch? Only side streets from now on!”). Marion Barry’s drug habit became Obama’s very “black-sounding” name (“President? It’s hard to become a manager at Burger King with that name!”). He used Obama’s reverend-speech controversy to reiterate how old black men are justifiably the most racist people, and some punch lines were repeated verbatim: “I haven’t seen white people that mad since they canceled M*A*S*H.”
What’s most upsetting about this use of “regular bits” to which many comedians adhere is that not since Eddie Murphy (Delirious, Raw) has a comedian had such universally celebrated, instantly classic, entirely quotable comedy specials. Bring the Pain (1996) and Bigger and Blacker (1999) have endured and entered the pop culture lexicon, becoming more like perfectly paced one-man plays than hour-plus stand-up sets. They continually persist as must-sees for comedy fans everywhere despite their rapidly aging subject matter. It seems naive of Rock to think that his fans wouldn’t remember, or would want to hear anything but new material.
Like on 2004’s substandard Never Scared, Rock’s current subject matter is as bold as ever, christening forefather-decorated dollar bills as “rapist trading cards”, for instance. But his delivery is not as hard-hitting, never warranting a microphone smack as it did in Bring the Pain. Pacing – always vital for such scripted shows – was also a problem, with Saturday’s show scattered and meandering in places. Even the relatively tame Never Scared was sufficiently kinetic when it came to the Bay Area early into his 2004 tour.
Maybe his success (see the live video clip below) or his age has spoiled him a bit. Surely it’s not easy to hit a grand slam each time out, but it’s hard not to think that Rock’s questionable film script-reading skills have extended to his live shows. Although he’s already been on the road for a couple of months, No Apologies is still obviously a work in progress, with the comedian even admitting half-successful delivery at a couple of points on Saturday. But this is a sign of hope that the HBO special that airs this fall will be worthy of his and his co-writers’ formidable CV. There’s still a killer show buried beneath the shit, so no apologies are necessary, Chris – just some careful editing.–David Sason
VIDEO: Mr. Rock’s Neighborhood…
Get it while it’s hot (yes, “hot” in that way too, I guess).
The Black Keys – Attack & Release (Nonesuch): I’d always written off these guys as a retro act, because for years that’s essentially what they were. But for this completely excellent album, they’ve dropped all ties to Cream and sound off with fresh sonic fabric: there’s organ, flute, tambourine, piano, bass clarinet, and the whole thing has an incredibly warm, organic quality to it that their last album lacked. The songs are great, Marc Ribot and Ralph Carney are on it, Danger Mouse doesn’t cheese it up too hard and the whole thing’s a slam dunk. If this is the new white boy blues, sign me up.
Nick Cave – Dig, Lazarus, Dig! (Anti-): Homeboy is on a roll. I loved Abbatoir Blues, didn’t care for Grinderman, but this is back on track. “Moonland” has that great brooding quality, and there’s a few litanies with spoken-sung lyrics, as in “We Call Upon the Author.” Not too many people can pull off the sermon thing the way Nick Cave does, and he gets downright Dylanesque on the 8-minute closing cut, “More News From Nowhere.”
Boredoms – Super Roots 9 (Thrill Jockey): Other than Seadrum / House of Sun, there’s been no existing recording of the Boredoms that comes close to capturing the band’s mind-blowing live shows. Until now. This live set, from 2004, has the three-drummer setup with Yamatsuka Eye on electronics and—get this—a 24-piece choir. If you’ve been longing for more of the drum-based pounding that the Boredoms plunged headlong into at the turn of the millennium, pick this up.
Man Man – Rabbit Habits (Anti-): This will inevitably get compared to Tom Waits, but that’s not fair to either Waits nor Man Man. Sure, there’s circus elements, gravelly vocals, and stompy bluesy tracks (“Big Trouble”), but on the whole this is just a really quirky, creative record. Yes, the guitarist has obviously been studying his Ribot (“Easy Eats or Dirty Doctor Galapagos”) and the vocalist goes into those high squeaks that Waits nails so well (“Top Drawer”) but I don’t think Waits fans will find a lot here to embrace. It’s more of a Sleepytime Gorilla Museum thing.
Mountain Goats – Tallahassee (4AD): The victory of this day is beyond instant human comprehension, my friends. The Mountain Goats’ Tallahassee, after six years, has finally been released on vinyl. Praise almighty, 4AD! This was the second greatest album released in the year 2002 and remains the best Mountain Goats album by far. One of the most mesmerizing opening songs ever—such construction, such poetry—and “No Children” will fuck you up so badly you won’t know what hit you. Get this, get this, get this.
Just six years ago in 2002, a completely mixed crowd at the Phoenix Theater, much older, lost their heads and loudly sang along to every line of “Life is… Too Short.” Last night, in the middle of Too Short’s headlining set, the classic guitar hook came in and… nothing. Kids just stood there.
Freddie Hubbard, four days shy of his 70th birthday, staggered out onto the Yoshi’s stage last night with a flugelhorn and a menacing scowl. Mean and disorderly, he waved his arms to stop “Now’s The Time,” barking at the band. How dare they?
Near the beginning of Merle Haggard’s hour-long set tonight, he turned to the crowd and inexplicably asked, “No caffeine?!”
