On Doug Stanhope & “Oslo: Burning The Bridge to Nowhere”

“Steal my stuff off the internet wherever you can and don’t apologize. Buy the CDs and DVDs from my site and feel free to burn ‘em and share ‘em. Then come to the show.” — Doug Stanhope

The above quote should settle any argument about whether former Culture Bully interviewee Doug Stanhope deserves to be considered as relevant. In an era where bands still trade on a pathetic, outdated childishness, masquerading as rock n’ roll to sell music, only to drop their collective guts and threaten to prosecute their own fans for downloading the latest album, a 40-something outsider (barely known in his own country) who describes his own audience as “school shooters, without bullets” was ahead of the curve when it came to using the internet to connect with people, rather than fearing it as robbing him of his income.

Want to know how far ahead he was? The quote is from years ago, on his MySpace page. Who has even been on their MySpace page in the last few years? (Please note – I liked MySpace, it was far superior to Facebook for finding music and comics, hence the fact that the latter has subsequently changed its format to be more like it).

Anyway, Stanhope recognized the potential of the web for garnering a niche audience. There may be, for example, only 700 people in North Carolina who would like his “cruel and unusual comedy” but, thanks to the internet, 500 of them may follow him online, would know he was playing a 100-seat venue in Charleston for two nights and, between say 150 of them, would show up for the gigs. Possibly both nights, in some cases. As a result of this law of diminishing (but managed) returns, Doug can make a living playing for people who get him.

Having this audience also allows him to, where possible or advantageous, circumvent the usual comedy circuit. He can decide to play regular bars, rock clubs or wherever. In four Edinburgh shows, I’ve seen him in a comedy club, a man-made cave, a jazz club and a university lecture theater (with, admittedly, differing results). If they can serve alcohol and don’t demand half the door money, it’s a winner for the performer. Stanhope’s involvement with Brown Paper Tickets allows further flexibility with bookings, without the hassle and expense we’ve all experienced from (ahem!) more well-known booking companies.

To summarize; this “obsolete” (according to his own Twitter page) comic has found an audience, herded them into his own info-sphere and performs wherever he can sell tickets to them, on his own financial terms. Pretty sweet. It limits him, audience-wise, but that could be for the best, in a not-being-killed-by-a-disgruntled-audience-member kind of way.

So, while some performers, and almost all executives, everywhere bemoan the internet-driven industry apocalypse, Doug Stanhope has (purposely or not, though I suspect mainly not) come up with a model for performing on his own terms. When he says “steal, but come to the show,” it satisfies the audience need for a rebellious anti-hero, thus keeping them on his side. As it happens, I’ve bought all Doug’s CDs and DVDs to date (I’ve also trawled the internet for bootlegs; ladies, form an orderly queue). It’s the out of touch old bastard in me. Recorded material, particularly albums, still hold value to me and probably always will. I remember debating with myself how much I should pay for In Rainbows, when Radiohead released it via a pay-what-you-want method – cynical marketing geniuses that they are. Heck, I was so keen to hear Stanhope’s last album, From Across the Street, I even downloaded it from iTunes, purveyors of value that they are…

Where is this going, you may ask? Good question, I’ve forgotten — it’s the onrushing dementia. What I think I’m trying to say is that, despite the ease of illegal downloading and Doug’s blessing, I prefer to throw a couple of shekels the way of my favorite artists. Well, I’m sorry Doug. I tried to buy your new album, Oslo. Hell, Amazon in the US was offering the download at one point for four dollars. Shame they wouldn’t let me download it. No matter, I’ll get it from the UK site: the UK site that’s making it available to download in August, three months after its official release.

The irony of the recording industry bemoaning downloading for killing them, while refusing to make the paid-for download available worldwide (this is what could kill the film industry, too) is something else. Incidentally, Oslo is Doug’s first release from Roadrunner Records, an actual record label. So, I’m sorry Doug. I stole your new album. Maybe I’ll wire you the cash instead. If I do, it’ll be a Scottish banknote, so you’ll have to come back to spend it. When you do, I’ll come see the show again.

Where to now? Ah, yes. The point, for the two people still reading at this late stage. Oslo is, in Stanhope’s own vernacular, “wicked funny.” He picks at every scab when it comes to causing offense; from attitudes on race, society and government, issues like suicide, sex and gender relations. He’ll shock even the most politically incorrect listener. He claims to have given up on political material, in exchange for “stinkless pussy” jokes but his material about ugliness, shame and self-awareness is devastatingly accurate. More so than any overt partisan grandstanding could be. The closest he gets to the issue of politics is probably his singular (at least in the gaining-chuckles industry) opinions on overpopulation and the environment.

Offensive? Misogynist? On a collision course with an early (though not nearly early enough for him) death? Absolutely. See or hear him before he’s gone, he’s more rock n’ roll and real than just about anyone else.

Oh, and if you steal his stuff from the internet… go see the show.

[This article was written by guest contributor Stephen Beagrie.]