Stephen Lynch

More than a little bit special

‘”I don’t do a conventional comedy show,” admits singer/comedian Stephen Lynch. “There is comedy within the show but the gist of the show is just songs. That’s when I try to be funny.”

Lynch is focused, working hard to continue racking up numbers in his allegiance of fans. After attending Western Michigan University, near his hometown, he knew that his musical theater and acting experience would be a part of whatever he would do next.

“I’ve done music my whole life. In college, everyone I hung out with performed in one way or another. At parties, someone would break out a guitar and we’d try to make each other laugh. After college everyone else moved on and I just kept doing it.”

Continue to do it, he did. It did not take long for Stephen Lynch to become a stellar member of the small sect of musician/comedians.

“When I moved to New York I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I wanted to continue something in the acting field. At first, music was just a side thing I did on the weekends. Before I knew it, I was playing at Catch a Rising Star and then I started headlining my own tours.”

While he was growing accustomed to headlining tours, fame had even bigger plans for the self-proclaimed Dr. Stephen. Soon, he appeared on Comedy Central’s Premium Blend. After appearing on his second Comedy Central show, he was offered his own half-hour special. Alongside of this and being a favorite on syndicated radio shows like Opie and Anthony, the name Stephen Lynch became a household name to comedy lovers everywhere.

Enthusiasts know his name is synonymous with a hard-to-pull-off brand of comedy that borders on the edge of being over-the-top racy, but manages to escape crude or vulgar every time. For an apt comparison, he is close to the singer/songwriter version of Michael McKean and Christopher Guest. Think “Big Bottom” or “Bitch School” but prettier sounding and about the Special Olympics.

“Spinal Tap holds a place in my heart. They wrote songs that were musically interesting as well as funny. You don’t want to write a two-chord novelty song and then go out and have to sing that every night. If it was all that same goofiness day in and day out, it wouldn’t have much of an impact.”

This is a major difference that separates Lynch from the likes of Adam Sandler and Jimmy Fallon. Even if the humor wasn’t there, his enchanting voice and strong songwriting talents could easily carry the listener through his pleasurable melodies.

“I took a couple stabs at writing songs that weren’t funny but something in me prevented me from finishing those songs. It always gets to a point in the song where I think, ‘God, I can make this funny if I just went this way.’ I don’t want to waste a good opportunity to be funny by being grave. Serious songs just aren’t important to me right now.”

Lynch’s songs have a tendency to follow drastic changes. The songs of his that have the strongest impact start off soft and sweet, a style of singing that suits his melodious voice well, then hit a wall in which all that is serious takes a dire turn for the impossibly and gut-wrenchingly jocular. He is well versed in misleading audiences and never bluntly proclaiming the punch line, giving only the subtlest implication of it.

It’s a talent that, after two records, numerous radio spots, and countless live performances, Lynch has sharpened to a fine point. All of that hard work has opened up new doors for him and has allowed him to experiment with his concerts. He has been playing the shows of his current tour in mostly concert venues – anyplace that is not a comedy club.

“I was doing a couple of shows outside of Chicago at Zany’s a couple of years ago. I did well for a few of the Friday shows. Then, for the Thursday night (show), things were kind of light. So, they booked a party. When I got on stage, I realized it was a retirement party for someone from the office next door. There were about 50 70-year-old people sitting in the audience listening to me sing about having sex with corpses and molesting altar boys. That’s precisely why I don’t do comedy clubs anymore. I don’t need people throwing things at me and wheeling themselves out in their wheelchairs.”