'Weird Al' Yankovic goes beyond parody at Indian Ranch

WEBSTER — When you think of “Weird Al” Yankovic, your mind naturally slides to other artists: His parodies of artists ranging from Michael Jackson to Nirvana, his polka medleys of pop hits. In a lot of ways, Yankovic himself is sort of a cypher: It's hard to focus on him as an artist when he's directing his attention to the subjects of his parodies.

Which is what made his Friday-night show at Indian Ranch so fascinating. A stop on his "Ridiculously Self-Indulgent, Ill-Advised Vanity Tour," Yankovic spent most of the evening playing original material, and in doing so, highlighted not just his comedic skills but also his musicianship and, frankly, the sheer twistedness of his sense of humor. We all know Yankovic is funny — some of us have had “My Bologna” stuck in our head since they heard it on “Dr. Demento” in the 1980s — but this show gave us a glimpse at what's underneath that, and that was fascinating.

Yankovic's set began after a riotous stand-up set from comedy legend Emo Philips, which included a handful of jokes about the pronunciation of “Worcester” and Webster Lake's real name, along with his answering some fake “emailed questions from the Telegram & Gazette.” The local touches were great, and they well-set the stage for Yankovic.

Yankovic's set kicked off with a rocking rendition of his ode to men with impossible standards in dating standards, “Close But No Cigar,” and a few things became immediately apparent. First off, Yankovic's backing band is tight and enormously versatile. Comprising Steve Jay on bass, Jon “Bermuda” Schwartz on drums, Rubén Valtierra on keyboards and Jim West on guitar, the band could lay down a rock groove effortlessly and then switch up styles on a dime.

The other thing that was instantly apparent was how much of his shots were really aimed at his persona, and not at the women the persona was dating and rejecting for such reasons as “one of her earlobes was too big” and “she owned a copy of 'Joe Dirt' on DVD.” It was funny, but the circumstances of the show made one listen a bit closer than usual to the songs, rather than treat them as accoutrements to the parodies. When they switched to “Dog Eat Dog,” which is a stylistic parody of Talking Heads, from the perspective of if David Byrne had taken an office job instead of moving to New York out of RISD.

By about three songs in, with the dark send-up of “Good Old Days,” written in the style of schmaltzy Americana. “Oh, and mom would be fixing up something in the kitchen,” sings Yankovic, “Fresh biscuits or hot apple pie/And I'd spend all day long in the basement/Torturing rats with a hacksaw and pulling the wings off of flies.”

Tonally, Yankovic matches the song styling perfectly. If you're not paying attention, you might just miss that he's basically glossing over the story of a sociopath by wrapping it in Norman Rockwell nostalgia. It's still funny, but it's a dark kind of funny.

Glimpse at deeper satire

Certainly, sometimes Yankovic was having a good-natured go at musical stylings, such as with the over-the-top metal parody “My Own Eyes,” or being just straight-up funny with novelty songs such as “Your Horoscope For Today,” but there are moments you can catch a glimpse at a deeper satire, a pillorying of sentimentality regarding two staple pop music themes: adolescent love and childhood nostalgia. The latter certainly comes to the fore with “I Remember Larry,” where he fondly remembers “the neighborhood clown,” who “pulled my pants off/And he took those color pictures/And posted copies all over town/Or the time that he dumped toxic waste on my lawn/Or those wacky prank phone calls from midnight till dawn/What a crazy kid Larry was, always foolin' around.”

Yankovic is hilarious, no doubt, and his timing and delivery flawless, but there are times that his underlying theme seems to be that phony nostalgia can whitewash the damage we do to each other, and how that turns us, too, into monsters. Heavy, right? Thankfully, Yankovic knows when to switch the mood up, and his uproarious movie theme song “UHF” just filled the lakeside amphitheater with joy, as did the subsequent “The Night Santa Went Crazy” and “Frank's 2,000-inch TV.”

It's not that Yankovic is setting out to disguise heavy social commentary with humor, but rather, it's the fact that his outrageous commentary touches a bone that makes it funny. “CNR,” his ode to “the greatest human to ever walk the Earth,” pop culture icon Charles Nelson Reilly, set to a White Stripes Pastiche is laugh-out-loud ridiculous, while his return to dark, twisted romance with “You Don't Love Me Anymore” and “Melanie” really dug deep into the grimy underbelly that seems to underscore pop love songs, many of which seem kind of toxic in their own right, if you look past the tone and beat. Yankovic saves you the trouble, and goes straight for the toxicity. It shouldn't be funny, but it's hilarious.

The end of the show's main set brought Yankovic's ode to supermarket tabloids, “Midnight Star,” but it was his extended lounge version of “Dare to Be Stupid” and his epic, genre-bending “Albuquerque” that brought the giddy crowd to its feet.

Then, during the encore, Yankovic did two things to reward his audience. First, he and his band played a straight cover of David Bowie's “Suffragette City,” which one surmises was a “thank you” to anyone who was brought unwillingly by a partner. While he still sounded like himself, with his nasal falsetto occasionally giving way to the lovely tenor voice he obscures, it was a pleasant surprise to hear the band play the song straight.

Then, as a reward to the faithful who probably came for the parodies, he performed a medley that included his send-up of Coolio's “Gangsta's Paradise”; his parody of Nirvana's “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” “Smells Like Nirvana”; his send-up of Chamillionaire's “Ridin',” “White & Nerdy”; and an extended arrangement of his parody of the Kinks' “Lola,” “Yoda,” which took detours into other songs and had the audience singing along in glee. It was a glorious ending, one that showed off the band's chops as they moved from style to style for each song snippet.

Honestly, if you came to Indian Ranch for a fun time, you were in luck, but if you were willing to listen a little closer, this was a show that proved just how good Yankovic really is.

This article originally appeared on Telegram & Gazette: 'Weird Al' Yankovic goes beyond parody at Indian Ranch