Coming to Dublin next week, Neil Hamburger tells deliberately offensive jokes, ruined by a spluttering delivery and a terrible catchphrase – and it has won him a fan base
PICTURE THIS: the 2009 Comedy Carnival in the enchanting Iveagh Gardens, an oasis of loveliness secreted behind the National Concert Hall in Dublin. Laughter and jollity tingle from every corner as the cream of Irish and international funny folk gather on a balmy July evening of summer dresses and champagne.
Except for one corner, of a somewhat rancid hue. Unsuspecting couples giggle with anticipation as they skip towards an evening with Ardal O’Hanlon and wry stories about life as a dad, middle age and coping with the recession.
But they are in for a nasty surprise, because waiting in the wings is a man wearing an aged cabaret singer’s suit and sporting a comb-over that makes him look like Bobby Charlton with a bucket of lard over his head. You can hear him clearing his throat from behind the curtain, an ungodly echo of phlegm. Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from the United States of America, here to ruin your night: Neil Hamburger!
Dotted among the audience are smirking Hamburger fans who are relishing the car-crash comedy that’s about to unfold: the despicable jokes, the awkward silences, the brutal insults and disgusting tics, the heckling and the walkouts. Some know Hamburger only by reputation. Can he truly be that bad?
He ambles onstage, like a more bedraggled version of Andy Kaufman and Bob Zmuda’s misanthropic lounge-singer character, Tony Clifton. He opens with a Paris Hilton rape joke. Several people walk out in disgust. After each gag he clears his throat or throws out his grating catchphrase, “Thaaat’s my life,” to the unusual cacophony of simultaneous boos and cheers.
Hamburgers creator, the Australian-born comedian and musician Gregg Turkington, doesnt do interviews. Rather its the nerve-shredding voice of his diabolical Hamburger character that exhales from the other end of the phone.
The divisive comedian explains why he has no problem desecrating the reputation of celebrities such as Hilton, the Osmonds, Madonna and Michael Jackson. "These celebrities are pigs," he spits, more than a little unfairly. "Drugged out of their minds, diseased and rotten inside and out. The entertainment on offer these days reflects that. I would rather peel 10 barrels of potatoes than sit through Marmadukeor Avatar, or watch one of these hellish MTV awards shows, where these disgusting people congratulate themselves on a job poorly done."
Bar regular TV appearances with the likes of Tom Green, Hamburger spends his days endlessly touring, booed from one town to the next. Why does he put himself through it? “Desperation,” he says. “I have no choice. I am under strong legal pressure to pay off my debts. Low-level entertainment is slavery.”
He describes himself as a loner. “Fortunately, my conscience keeps me company, by revisiting past failures in a never-ending internal monologue.”
The fans he does have seem to have connected with him originally through his releases on the Drag City label or his associations with music artists such as Faith No More, Tenacious D and Bonnie “Prince” Billy. “I’m thankful to musicians for getting me out of the back-breaking pizza-parlour circuit and into these more prestigious nightclubs and theatres,” he says.
"I had a great time touring with Faith No More earlier this year. I released my own album, called Neil Hamburger Sings Country Winners. Some of the songs are a little downbeat, but the music itself was very catchy. I'm not a music fan, however. I mean, I would listen to Kenny Rogers if it was already playing, but most of the music nowadays sounds like someone vomiting on to a plate, which is how a lot of it is recorded."
Back on the harsh grind of the comedy circuit he employs a number of survival techniques to keep the angry audiences at bay. “We have handed out bite-sized candies on occasion,” he says.
“Mostly you just have to hope they keep drinking. Alcoholics are easy prey for comedians. They’ll laugh at any joke, three words in.”
Neil Hamburger performs at the Sugar Club, Dublin, on Thursday
