Damon, Did You Hear About This One?
By Eric Wittmershaus

David Foster Wallace's postmodern epic "Infinite Jest" contains a short passage about an experimental film called The Joke, whose synopsis is as follows:

English rocker Badly Drawn Boy's three-hour set on Nov. 16 at Bimbo's 365 Club in San Francisco was in much the same spirit, as the talented musician seemed to derive more satisfaction from the evening than much of his audience, which was alternately captivated and captive.

For much of the evening, Gough seemed content simply to entertain himself...There were long, bizarre monologues, half-songs that started and stopped after a few bars, fisticuffs with a disgruntled Bruce Springsteen hater, numerous extended trips into the audience and the bringing of a cocktail waitress on stage so that the band could order drinks.

But in between these and other stunts worthy of comedians Neil Hamburger and the late Andy Kaufman, Gough and his four backup musicians gave the patient audience more than a glimpse of the immense talent and songwriting savvy that led to his debut album, The Hour of Bewilderbeast, receiving the Mercury prize, given each year to Ireland or England's best album.

The show kicked off with a too-extended version of "Fall in a River" before Gough teased the crowd by pretending he was going to play current single "Once Around the Block," easily his best song.

But instead, Gough launched into another number, letting his audience bask in the folk rock of "Stone on the Water," a deliberately-paced, beautiful ballad that legitimizes the favorable comparisons (Nick Drake, John Lennon, Elliott Smith) critics have thrown Gough's way since his album was released on U.S. shores in October.

At evening's outset, Gough's voice sounded a bit rough, and not nearly as rich as the work on Bewilderbeast. Coupled with his free-form, shambling style, it alienated much of the audience fairly early on, causing people to talk amongst themselves and even trickle out the door.

Gough's first several songs or so were largely hit or miss, with the band clearly sounding better as the night went on. The show's lowlight came when, after leaving stage to play a half-baked rendition of Springsteen's "Thunder Road," Gough was beset by a surly, obviously disappointed fan who seized the microphone and voiced his disapproval of Springsteen. A scuffle ensued, and Gough returned to the stage, from where he proceeded to berate the fan off and on for the next few songs, one of which was a drum machine and keyboard rendition of the Four Seasons' "Oh What a Night," during which Gough seemed to finally hit his stride vocally.

Strangely, the singer did not carry that momentum immediately into another song, choosing instead to launch into an annoying, repetitive ditty that alternated a calliope polka with distorted guitar rock. It was a moment comparable to Andy Kaufman's legendary "Great Gatsby" readings.

"This song ... was intended for the album, but it didn't make it on the album," Gough said just before beginning what would be one of the evening's most hilarious, innovative moments.

After a minute or so of the unbearable song, he added, "The reason there's no room for it on the album is there's no place to end it.

"In order to end it, you're going to have to cheer very loud, or it's going to go on forever."

And after about three minutes, the audience realized Gough wasn't kidding. And when the assembled throng did manage to raise a raucous cheer, Gough looked taken aback.

"It got lost in translation," he said. "I'm English, you're American. You're supposed to boo very loudly."

Which was perhaps his own ironic way of trying to capitalize on the heckling, catcalls and occasional booing he received throughout the night.

By the time the singer worked his way into the crowd during a performance of "Walkman Demo 2," the naysayers — about one-fifth of the original audience — seemed to have mostly deserted, which was probably a good thing for the populist crowd wader.

Finding his microphone cord could reach no further, Gough disconnected it, and walked through the hushed crowd, singing without amplification while his back-up band played softly along with him. Upon arriving at the back of Bimbo's main floor, Gough stood atop a table, disconnected microphone in hand working his way again and again through the song's minimal lyrics. To those who could hear him, it was one of those concert moments that becomes burned into the brain forever.

For the show's remaining hour and a half, Gough was at the top of his game, alternating between piano, guitar, keyboards and harmonica — all of which he played extremely well — as he treated those who'd been patient enough to sit out the various stunts and silliness.

He worked though covers of The Left Banke's "Walk Away Renee" and Springsteen's "I'm on Fire," and for the last few songs, he donned a steel-stringed guitar to work his way through the exquisite folk-rock gems "Pissin' in the Wind," "Once Around the Block" and, finally, "Epitaph."

In the end, Gough's audience seemed divided over whether the show was the greatest they'd ever seen, or an irritating bit of artistic self-indulgence.

Fans at the San Francisco gig voiced their opinions on Badly Drawn Boy's message board, and the views expressed seemed a representative sample of Gough's audience as a whole.

"The show was far from what I expected from someone who can create such beautiful music," remarked one disappointed fan. "Damon was excruciating to watch. All I wanted was to hear the songs straight through, but he kept stopping the songs as soon as I got into the groove."

But a slightly greater number of bulletin board posters said it was a memorable, magical night.

"Call me kooky," said another fan. "But I expect live music to be an expression of the artist's creative core, usually I'm dissapointed [sic]...last night I was not. I took three people who had never heard BDB before and we all agreed that our romp through the mind of a madman was a rare treasure of entertainment."

But in reality, both views represent expected responses to Damon Gough's odd blend of music and prattle. When you go to a Badly Drawn Boy show, you're in for a night of brilliant music punctuated by hilarious antics, but you'd better check your patience at the door because a fair share of Gough's performance is clearly for his own benefit.

Gough summed it up well himself when he echoed the words of Kaufman:

"Laugh at your own peril...Badly Drawn Boy is not a comedian."

Badly Drawn Boy has finished his brief, large-city U.S. tour. A subsequent tour is planned for early 2001.

An alternate, shorter version of this article appeared in the Oakland (Calif.) Tribune.

E-mail Eric Wittmershaus at ericw at flakmag dot com.