Doug Stanhope’s assaulting comedy has made him America’s visceral analyst over the last 23 years. Nothing is taboo to him. And you either despise him or you’re hampered by lockjaw. His 11th special, Beer Hall Putsch, proves him again to be the most important stand-up with an hour-long harangue on the failings of Occupy, the underlying sloth of charities and sobriety’s defects: “I have a problem? No, lady! I have a solution!” As a preview to his show at the Funny Bone on September 25th, Stanhope talked shop and chaotic audiences with the TCP.
How is living in Bisbee, Arizona these days?
Hot. Never be here in August. Bugs, monsoon weather, mosquitoes, gnats, the whole place turns green. July and August is when the rains come and everything blooms. It’s the opposite of why you move to the desert in the first place.
The new special was released on Netflix on August 23rd. How much do you think going digital will affect any merchandise sales?
The album is in the distributor’s hands. I still sell CD’s and DVD’s on the road because people always want something signed. I’m sure any minute DVD’s will be useless. I have a Blu-Ray and I don’t notice any difference at all. Maybe I don’t have an eye for cinema like a lot of people supposedly do.
Can you go into your partnering with Brown Paper Tickets?
For the longest time, we were just doing door deals. A lot of people don’t show up when it’s a ‘pay at the door’ situation. Then we got in contact with Brown Paper Ticket to show the audience they weren’t getting ripped off. That was a few years ago and they’ve been good to us since. They’re a grassroots effort and a great alternative to Ticketmaster.
Speaking of alternatives, you’ve recorded multiple podcasts in the last couple years. Are podcasts an avenue you want to pursue to try new material, especially with the absence of an audience?
Yeah, definitely. There isn’t a place to work new material in Bisbee – there’s no comedy here. I need to be in front of a microphone for that. Podcasts are more open mic, it’s a different dynamic. On stage I’ll riff the new stuff in the middle of a set and if it works, it works.
It’s funny you say that since you still have rabid fans who don’t get you’re doing new material. They want the old bits they know by heart.
[Laughs]
I have a fan base that are all drunks and hate each other. It’s pretty strange. I don’t want to be any more famous than I am and I barely am. I’ve always said “if you’re not going to like a little, you’re not going to like a lot”.
Do you enjoy coming up with new …
[Interrupting] Hate it! Hate it! It’s like giving birth to an eleven pound baby without narcotics. When you’re working, you’re constantly finding new ways to tell the bit and the act progresses. It’s like shedding skin. With the new special out, all of that material is going to be burned and it’s back to me sifting through notebooks and newspaper clippings for ideas.
Any place you won’t play with brand new material?
The UK is the worst. When you play overseas, half of your material doesn’t work—it’s too American, they’re alien to it, it’s problems they don’t have. When I play there I sit around all day with my head in a notebook figuring out what to say to them and about them.
You’ve always thrived on the unpredictability of crowds. Do you yearn for crowds to be intense when you’re on-stage?
I love when it happens, which is why I work rock’n’roll clubs. You have to be in the right mood for it, but if you’re tired from the road and you’re looking to phone one in, it’s chaos.
One more. Is your one fear becoming predictable?
I have no fear on stage as long as I know I have something to say. The drinking always helps. But I’m terrified every morning. That keeps you in check.
