Like Jon Stewart ripping to shreds tongue-tied senators on CSPAN, Loeb’s hour-long attack on pop music was sharp-tongued and side-splitting, a survey of lowbrow culture that dispelled the mass delusion that if it’s played on the radio (or on Broadway for that matter) then it must be good.  Michael Jackson, Britney Spears, Andrew Lloyd Weber, Stevie Wonder, Sir Paul McCartney, there was no one immune to her barbs or whose style she could not perfectly imitate.  Loeb channeled every performer she mocked, masterfully transitioning from one act to another.   I busted up when she pulled up her shirt and, with flabby belly shaking, gave Shakira a run for her money.  Her milkshake not only brings all the boys to the yard, but delight to her audience’s faces.

Loeb’s show could have easily been called “Crappy Music: 101,” as it was a history of poor musical stylings.  I imagine if aliens hovered over Earth and tapped into our broadcast signals that this must be what they are thinking: How could humanity really believe that singing “heal the world, make it a better place” would actually heal the world and make it a better place?  Why in the early 90s did we have an obsession with babies?  Sheena Easton let her baby take the morning train, Lisa Stansfield couldn’t find her baby, and Ace of Base only wanted another baby.  It was all babies all the time.  While some of the songs were a bit obscure for younger members of the crowd, the breadth of Loeb’s selections added an extra punch to her critique of ridicule-worthy music trends.

Source: Flickr.comThe best part about watching Loeb is she is a woman who is completely comfortable in her own skin.

She knows how to put her audience at ease.  Whether pulling down her pants or using her belly to pretend she’s pregnant (“Not every woman could do this!” she cheerily yelled), she invites you to laugh with her, not at her.  “I get upset seeing Naomi Watts and Nicole Kidman, they’re giving you a false impression of Australian women.  I’m a real Australian woman,” she boasted, jiggling her underarms for effect.  Indeed, she is a real woman and her acknowledgement of it adds more fuel to her comedic fire.

Loeb wrapped up the evening with an original piece, displaying her prowess at both lyrics and the keyboard.  “What rhymes with along?  Bong, shlong, no that’s wrong!” she smoothly crooned, earning laughs and admiration for her unique blend of music and comedy. 

A skilled chameleon and siren, Loeb makes even the worst song ever written seem like pure genius. Want to experience the show for yourself?  Check out her final performance at the Asylum Theatre this Wednesday June 23rd at 7pm.

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