Three stand-up stars of Comedy Central and Superfly’s new comedy, music and food gathering imagine their ideal multistage musical event.
— Bigfoot operates a nonprofit churro stand. The churros are dry and not very good, but it’s for a good cause so the lines are quite long.
— A dance tent DJ’d by multiple luminescent orbs remixes the movie Strange Brew with sounds of a poorly tuned combine harvester until all attendees achieve dry orgasm.
— A live sign-language performance of NASA Voyager’s Golden Record takes place while Carl Sagan’s hologram explains how the inclusion of “Johnny B. Goode” by recently deceased piss-gazer Chuck Berry inspired the Mars Rover.
— The ghost of Dolly Parton performs. She has actually been dead for 30 years, but her essence is strong enough to maintain her physical specimen for centuries.
— Cirque du Soleil acrobats in full costume smoke cigarettes sullenly while David Lee Roth reads the Bill of Rights.
— A waterproof theremin dropped into a koi pond serves as Guy Fieri’s house band for the “Blindfolded Electric Fence Hoedown.”
— Any Caucasian wearing a Native American headdress as a fashion statement will be infected with smallpox by someone dressed as British general Jeffrey Amherst.
— In my wild dreamscape, music would have to drop in at comedy festivals, instead of the other way around. Music would have to show up and do a little soft shoe — ply its harmonic or syncopated wares. It would have to compete with comedians running around with their grotesque riffs and impromptu roasts.
— You know that banter musicians do between their songs? Stories with maybe a half joke or not even a joke, but the audience laughs and laughs, like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard? “Wow, this guy can sing and casually attempt humor?! What can’t he do!” Well, in my world, comedians would hum little jags in between their bits and the audience would think, “Wow, all that hilarious insight and they still remember the tune to ‘Mambo No. 5.’ Truly, the total package.”
— Musicians also have endlessly shifting group dynamics of bands and entourages. I would imagine comedians bringing up entire posses onstage, hyping their punchlines and doing backup vocals on longer jokes. Imagine the possibilities. I’d bring a ragtag group onstage: a kindergarten teacher, a dentist, an aerialist, a sous chef. And they would all just hang out during my set. I wouldn’t even reference them. Now who’s cool? Don’t answer that.
I envision a future in which festival stratification vis-à-vis VIP packages is so stark that the festival itself takes place in Manhattan. But you can’t get to Manhattan without an ultra VIP bracelet. General admission? You get to livestream the festival from your house in upstate New York — because I don’t need to be around a bunch of poor people while I’m listening to the folk anthems that are going to change a generation. I want a world in which everyone has a bracelet that determines where you’re at in the social hierarchy. You’ll try to have dinner at Per Se and be told, “That bracelet doesn’t get you in here. You’ve got to go to the TGI Friday’s.” Festivals haven’t gone far enough with sponsorships either. I think about how depressing Woodstock must have been. You walked in, and it was just Jimi Hendrix. I mean, who made the bandanna that he laced with acid? Was it brought to you by the Herschel Supply Co.? And what about the LSD? Was it sponsored by Novartis? Festivals should take it further: Come to the Heineken stage brought to you by Coca-Cola, sponsored by AT&T Wireless. The Dirty Projectors, brought to you by Pledge. Clean that projector! Or the Sowing the Seeds of Revolution Tour with Killer Mike — brought to you by Monsanto. I think we’d all attend.
Kasher’s new show, Problematic With Moshe Kasher, premieres April 18 on Comedy Central.