“Busted!” by Lenny Bruce
1962
Viper's Nest Records, Inc. © & ® 1995 (VN-CD-178)
"Now a Jew, in the dictionary, is one who is descended from the ancient tribes of Judea, or one who is regarded as descended from that tribe. That's what it says in the dictionary; but you and I know what a Jew is: One Who Killed Our Lord..."
[liner notes by D. Strauss]
And for this, we can thank Bruce; for the killing of Our Lord, and getting some licks in at the rest of our marble giants, as well. Because it's easy to forget that there were plenty of lovably filthy-mouthed comedians back in the day, Rusty Warren and Redd Foxx to name a couple (I mean, figuratively), who now seem titteringly quaint, although Foxx (who, after all, did befriend Malcolm X for a period) would later be taken on as a political icon by revisionists. The late 50s / early 60s also boasted a modest number of pedantic and political finger-waggers. Some, such as Mort Sahl, were trenchant and understated, but have crusted from neglect, slinking off to the Vegas show rooms and sub-Playboy mansions.
Only Bruce was a giant killer. The 1950s appear far enough off, so distantly positioned that most of its oppressive and negligible elements, such as de-Jazzed Big Bands and Nuclear Power (institutions that Bruce wouldn't abide without bared teeth) are considered beyond the pale of mere mockery and are now in the process of being opened up for re-evaluation by floral-shirted youths terminally sick of the here-and-now. But try setting the Wayback Machine (a creation of Rocky and Bullwinkle creator jay North - one of the first animators to reflect Bruce's pun-filled, slangy influence) back a little further to Biblical times. Now, imagine what it would have been like of tape recorders had existed. For whatever spewed out of Moses' mouth after coming down from the mountain-top, tablets in his arms, and watching the celebration of the Golden Calf, probably sounded a lot like Lenny Bruce (if it didn't sound like Miles Davis talking to a club owner).
Of course, part of the anger would come from a vaguely veiled desire to join in, but part of Bruce's genius was in how he managed to fill the most acute social criticism with self-loathing. And there-by taking an honored part in the intellectual life of assimilated Judaism - Bruce (nee Leonard Alfred Schneider) drew the connection between the prophet and the lounge-act, Ecclesiastes and El Kabong. As Albert Goldman wrote in his despised biography of Bruce (which, if not exactly engaging or good-hearted, is somewhat more perceptive than you might remember), Bruce was "the tummuler who is recognized in the Jewish world as a necessary companion to the rav and the wiseman".
You see it in such mother-loving writers as Phillip Roth; there's no real liberation, just bang at your cell with your tongue. But for all the self-incriminations and con/hipster poses, Bruce didn't merely try to "get away with it", he believed in "getting away with it" as a path toward human enlightenment, an implicit freedom that the law has a responsibility to allow. Yes, such were the times, Dharma Bums, Moondog, NASA and such, but one should not underestimate the comedian's breakthrough. Bruce brought Brecht to the Borscht Belt. Not that the Borscht Belt approved. Bruce used scatology like the Joycean poetry of the best Rappers, another breed of entertainer/prophet that the law attempts to screw over ("Fuck the Police" anyone?). Because if you can't own the newspapers, mastering discourse is the next best thing. Trust me, I've been examining the recent celebrations of Disney/Westinghouse; not too many of us are going to be owning papers during our lifetimes.
And while there's hardly anything that would offend our ears except for some "fags" (Bruce was often ragged on at the deli counter by the likes of Buddy Hackett and others for being a "pretty boy"), it was enough to get him arrested, harassed, haunted. If you're not aware of this well documented fact, you'll hear it soon enough - the concert ends abruptly with the cops leading him off the stage. His material can still shock, for he would say anything that would come to mind, roast Jackie Kennedy post-assassination, call American soldiers rapists, and, well, tell impolite truths usually repressed in our unhealthy discourse.
Moses? Perhaps the Oracle is a better comparison. Drugged into another world (and he sounds rather stoned throughout the concert), he closes his eyes, picks up a newspaper, and out comes, if not the knowledge of the future, then at the very least a couple of belly laughs. Such as, "What will Kennedy look like as a war criminal?" and "Rock Hudson is a fag!" Sounds like the same thing. The CD ends with and unattended microphone, some static, and then, softly in the background, "My Old Flame".
The low budget packaging of this recording may smell of a quick cash-in, but it is actually a good performance. The mediocre sound quality does make it difficult to follow some of Bruce's tangents, so those unfamiliar with his material and his way of speaking may get lost. Familiarize yourself with Bruce through his Carnegie Hall performance (and his book too, perhaps), then try this one.