There's always, always, always room for more humorous music, especially when it comes from a woman with a mouth that will sometimes put the shine of envy in a stevedore's eye. Carla Ulbrich is just such a comediette…er, comedienne...um, comedienette. This CD of 31 short cuts was broadcast on the Sirius XM Radio Performance Theater to an audience of Ulbrich fans hellbent on quirky rib-tickling…which they got in spades. Not Robert Schimmel nasty, not Bill Hicks intense, just really cool take-offs on famous songs (including REO Speedwagon's Take It on the Run"and John Lennon's Watching the Wheels), ditties Bill Cosby would never pen. Ya know, like about maxi pads and old condoms, among matters less visceral.
The disc is indeed, save for one cut (Duet with a Klingon, which is exactly what it says it is), live, accompanied by between-song banter from this self-described "professional smart aleck". Ulrich has a tart chirpy voice and accompanies herself on guitar, save for one song with dueted vocals—the Klingon tune of course—and one with a full band, the studio version of the Trekophile song. She was quite well liked by the mega-cool Dr. Demento, who included two Ulbrich numbers on his Best Ofs, a tribute she of course locates sardonic material in, being the delightfully eternal grump and negativist she is…though the cool cover cartoon by Debbie Ohi makes her appear an innocent troubadoric naif (don't be deceived!).
Then there's the persistent contrarianism, including the slab's title, as Ulrich is earthy and ribald, an alien only by dint of being too honest in her own society, as all comics are. Don't play this while the kids are romping around either. All the h-mpings, b-tts -sses and other semantic paraphernalia will stun them like deer in headlights just before setting 'em to giggling as though naughty imps and goblins. That'll bring Child Protective Services knocking down the door shortly thereafter, so forestall such shenanigans and spin the slab after tucking little Lancelot and tiny Guinevere in for the night.
However, even at a sensible 41:27, Live from Outer Space is over way too soon. A triple-disc set would've been righteous. Thus, Ms. Ulbrich is warned she should see to it next time around, even if she has to h-mp her artsy fartsy -ss off to produce the f-cking thing, lest we punters get p-ssed and tear sh-t up in mad Klingon fury.
It could happen!
Edited by: David N. Pyles
Copyright 2009, Peterborough Folk Music Society.
This review may be reprinted with prior permission and attribution.
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