Joe Derosa’s “Return of the Son of Depression Auction”

“Be yourself.”

“To thine own self be true.”

These citations sound good enough in the abstract, but are they valuable in practical application? This could be Joe DeRosa’s thesis in his album Return of the Son of Depression Auction as DeRosa ticks off a litany of miserable personal failings, and makes them approachable and hilarious. Anyone who has ever felt like they could do a bit better in life will recognize themselves in the greasy, slightly-warped mirror that DeRosa holds up for all to see.

DeRosa opens with an admission that he’s never been in shape, confessing, “I don’t do push-ups, ‘cuz I can’t.” His confessions progress naturally to his diet and his pathetic weakness for fast foods, in all their oil-stained, pleasure-ridden glory. His bit about his abject powerlessness for KFC’s foods and the lengths to which he’ll go to obtain them are as cringe-inducing as they are side-splitting. The culmination of this chunk and what happens when his appetite and enthusiasm get the better of him had me laughing until my back popped. (Once your comedy album begins delivering chiropractic therapy, you know you’ve got something there.)

However, it’s when Joe recounts his foray into a punk band’s mosh pit that he reaches the pinnacle of the pathetic, forcing him to acknowledge that he’s not as young as he used to be. The scene he describes, where alcohol forces a showdown between ego and reality, is not to be missed.

In addressing hard economic times, he crafts an excellent piece about public television’s fund drives and how little he is tempted to donate. His whittling away of the value of their “gifts” is as good as any I’ve heard.

For my money, his sharpest and best chunk is about women and relationships, but in the most acerbic way imaginable. Let me just say this: if you can’t imagine watching a small child run face-first into a pole and find a way to whole-heartedly celebrate the ensuing impact and misery, I suggest to you that DeRosa can help you connect those dots.

Over the course of at least three tracks, he weaves toddlers, entitled hot chicks, Adrian Grenier and misguided fat girls into a common thematic tapestry, all in a heroic effort to lay bare the helplessness of anyone who has ever lost the upper hand with the opposite sex. It managed to be insightful and brilliant and delightfully mean, justly focusing all these qualities on villains we can relate to.

He breaks away from the scathing self-loathing to find a way to feel good about himself as an American (and to help you to do the same), pointing out the thoughtless, predominant view of Americans abroad and our own reflexive reactions to it. His visceral, devastating counter-punch to cliched, European condescension may be worth the price of admission all by itself.

He wraps up the album with a sharp description of a comedy phenomena he calls “selective hearing,” causing something to be heard during a comedy show that was not actually said. Sound complicated? It is, but DeRosa manages to get his point across with effective storytelling, using language, pace and road-gig examples that are surprisingly direct and funny.

There are any number of ways to judge the success of a comedy album, including the difference between the listener’s point of view and the comic’s, and the ease and hilarity with which the comedian closes the gap. For any stand-up, that’s a pretty fair yardstick. DeRosa’s skill is in using everyday language and an uncommon passion to connect those dots.

So if I were DeRosa, would I want to “be myself?” If it meant being this honest, sharp and funny – absolutely.

For more comedy reviews and exclusive interviews visit our AmericasComedy.com Facebook fan page and follow us on Twitter @AmericasComedy!

Related posts:

1. Rachel Feinstein’s “Thug Tears” Drops Today
2. The Multiple Personalities of Nick Kroll on “Thank You Very Cool”