| Home . | . About Chris . | . Schedule . | . Media . | . Links . | . Press . | . Contact | |
|
Robby Roadsteamer’s good intentions
"He's beyond passionate — it's almost to the brink of sanity with him," says stand-up comedian Shane Mauss about his pal, fellow stand-up — and musician, performance artist, erstwhile shock jock, prolific YouTube auteur, Sox Appeal sex symbol, and expert Duck Hunt marksman — Robby Roadsteamer. Specifically, Mauss is speaking about the intense loyalty and reverence Roadsteamer (a/k/a Rob Potylo) feels for the tiny but tight-knit Boston alternative-comedy scene — and why he's put together the Greater Boston Alternative Comedy Festival, which brings himself and seven other area-bred comedy acts (see sidebar), and one rock band (Campaign for Real-Time), to the Paradise on December 17. Leaning forward over a plate of half-eaten Mexican food at Boca Grande in Kenmore Square, a knit Red Sox cap pulled low over his stubbly face, Potylo's dark eyes blaze as he explains — with wild gesticulations — how he came to curate this comedy showcase. Lately, he says, he's become tired of some of the baggage that comes with his self-created comic character, Roadsteamer — the lugnut loudmouth, festooned with tattoos, bellowing with mock-menace and machismo. He's grown weary of performing on booze cruises and promo events at butthead bars, of the beery dudes in sideways caps, sidling up to him and parroting lyrics from his songs: "Steamah! 'Put the tip in!' " Potylo's far more simpatico with the small group of people who make up Boston's alt-comedy scene, the folks who clutch microphones night after night in such clubs as the Comedy Studio in Harvard Square; the new Mottley's, near Faneuil Hall; and, sometimes, rock clubs like Great Scott in Allston — performers, he says, who are "not doing it because they're looking for five minutes on Leno. They're trying to perfect their art." So Potylo compiled a roster of comedians — every one of whom is "near and dear to me" — for an event meant to show off some of the provocative and envelope-pushing acts that exist right in our own back yard. "Boston is small and supportive," says stand-up comedian Shane Webb, who lived with Potylo for a spell in Allston before moving to Brooklyn. "Ten times more supportive than New York, where there's not much support at all." It's also, well, funnier. "A lot of [comedians] call me from New York and LA," notes Potylo, "and they're like, 'Dude, it's nothing like Boston! The comedians are twice as better up there!' " You'll remember, of course, that Boston comedy enjoyed quite a heyday back in the Reagan years — Steven Wright, Janeane Garofalo, Bobcat Goldthwait, and the like. New York and LA were major players, sure, but it was the stand-ups from the Hub who commanded the most attention in that vaunted comedy explosion. Comedy is the red-headed stepchild of the entertainment business," notes Mauss. Which is to say nothing of the other distractions that conspire to keep people out of clubs. Even as the Internet helps comedians corral fans via MySpace and Facebook, and broadcasts their routines online for free via YouTube, for instance, it also keeps legions of potential audience members at home every night, bathed in the dull glow of, well, MySpace, Facebook, and YouTube. "Technology helps us," says Potylo's good friend and fellow performer Chris Coxen, "but we're also competing against it because there are a lot of lazy bastards out there who don't want to go out and see a live show." Laugh factory He's also really funny, with a routine primarily consisting of acoustic strumming — a song called "Someone Put a Condom on My Dreams," a right-wing dig called "Construction Boots" that was written "in case Obama didn't win" — peppered with manic mid-song banter and gleefully abrasive audience confrontation. There's also the occasional theft of a crab Rangoon off a front-row patron's table. "It's an insane, ridiculous act, and to know how much he cares about it almost makes it funnier to me," says Mauss. "A lot of new comics are trying to do an impression of what they think a comic should be like. Robby just has a very specific idea of what he wants out of comedy. He isn't really influenced by any outside expectations." "Like him or hate him," says Coxen, "when you see him you feel like you're seeing something innovative." In fact, Potylo toyed with the idea of packing up for NYC to pursue his comedy career a few years back. But whether his intensely local themes — Revere Beach, Route 1 in Saugus — would've caught on in Gotham is a riddle for the ages. He decided to stay put, figuring he was better served marshalling the troops to make the Boston scene the best it could be. That fealty has only strengthened since two months ago, when Potylo's mother passed away suddenly, and he was rallied around and supported by fellow comedians and musicians from Salem to Somerville. "The unconditional love from so many artists has been keeping me going through this," he says. Meanwhile, he keeps getting on stage, and doing his part to boost the hometown team. "I still believe things can happen from time to time," says Potylo. All it takes "is someone besides the comedians to get on the boat."
Robby Roadsteamer + Seven on his friends = Hilarity
THE WALSH BROTHERS Former Charlestownians David and Chris — masters of the sketch and the shaggy-dog story both — are "hands down my favorite," says Potylo. "In terms of a duo act, in terms of chemistry, of knowing when to shut up when the other one's talking. I saw them at Jimmy Tingle's just telling about going to Montreal trying to get into the comedy festival, and everybody's gut laughing for two-and-a-half hours." CHRIS COXEN His one-man troupe, Chris Coxen's League of Characters, includes "combat dancer Danny Morsel, Revere Beach meathead Ripps McCoxen, self-help guru Stever Pate, and "Future Queer" — a man in a rubber wig whose mission, says Potylo, is to "alert everybody that the future's going to be very gay!" THE ANDERSON COMEDY GROUP "I love them because they're trying to create a comedy scene in Allston," says Potylo. "They're not afraid to try to plant seeds where otherwise it's a bunch of douchebags in seashell necklaces and untucked dress shirts fighting for Zimas at the dance clubs." MEHRAN KHAGHANI He was two classes behind Eugene Mirman at Lexington High School — must be something in the water. He's gay. He's Iranian. Get used to it. "I would put my money on Mehran as the secret breakout," says Potylo. "He's larger than life. There's no off switch." BETHANY VAN DELFT "Absolutely a godsend," Potylo calls her, a pointed antidote to "the same six to seven guys with bad Boston accents basically getting up and saying a variation on a theme." SHANE WEBB The evening's MC, Webb was Potylo's roommate for a year or so before recently moving to Brooklyn. "She's hilarious," he says, adding, cryptically: "she's from Virginia, but you'd think she was born and raised in Allston." |
|
© 2010 Chris Coxen. All Rights Reserved.