Tim Heidecker’s “acquired taste” comedy style splashed onto the scene in the early 2000s with the Abbott to his Costello, Eric Wareheim, when “Tom Goes to the Mayor” followed by 2007’s “Tim and Eric: Awesome Show, Great Job!” hit alternative animation program “Adult Swim.”
Heidecker himself would laugh at any critic who referred to his comedy as “offbeat” or “irreverent,” but to put it delicately, his style is some insane-yet-brilliant confluence of purposeful low-brow, obnoxious potty humor, razor-sharp wit and satire with a twist of camp psychedelia. One must be “in” on the joke so as not to instantly dismiss it as childish nonsense. But his performance in 2012’s “The Comedy,” a dramatic film focusing on the nihilism of entitled hipsters, changed the public’s perception. He could be serious.
Never for one moment has Heidecker abandoned his singular brand of humor, but his foray into making serious music has served him well. A musician at heart, this passion had been expressed, but mostly in a collaborative setting.
With the release of 2016’s “In Glendale,” Heidecker again gave pause to his viewing — or listening — audience. His lyrical prowess and soulful, introspective depth had proven there is more than laughs in his quiver. Follow-ups “What the Broken-Hearted Do,” “Fear of Death” and “High School” found Heidecker cutting his teeth on the road playing to audiences with a live band. At the same time, the indie set embraced his efforts alongside comedy fans, who’d go see Heidecker for any reason. What fans, old and new, have discovered is an unmistakable talent with true reverence for creating art that speaks with stark honesty.
“Slipping Away,” out Friday on Bloodshot Records, is Heidecker’s most ambitious release to date. It captures not only his well-developed craftsmanship as a songwriter but also his knack for tapping into universal themes that connect with listeners.
Within the album’s 10 tracks, Heidecker, backed by a stellar lineup of backing musicians, maintains a delicate balance of vulnerability without a heavy-handed dose of “woe is me.” He sings about anxiety, fatherhood, celebrity and the apocalypse — themes that could come off as scattered and even cliché but nuanced such that the message hits home with every bar.
Deep inside the creative pulses of most comedic artists lives a musician or actor — or both — dying to get out. But it rarely sticks. Adam Sandler is funny. He’s a decent musician and passable dramatic actor, but to most, and regardless of his work on serious films, he’s always going to be Billy Madison singing about red-hooded sweatshirts. It’s a blessing and a curse, an unshakable sense of humor to the public eye.
What Heidecker signals in “Slipping Away” is the furthest point from goofy comedian but instead a bright light in music.