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The Official Home of George Carlin

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(1972) FM & AM
(1972) Class Clown
(1974) Toledo Window Box
(1996) Back in Town

FM & AM (1972)
Rating: Kinda Bad

FM & AM. As in, two halves. FM, the first half, presents Carlin’s new raunchy material. AM, the second half, presents Carlin’s old cutesy material. Prior to this, he had worked with partner Jack Burns on a lot of clean-cut radio-friendly mainstream comedy. The release of FM & AM marked Carlin’s transition from the suit-and-tie mainstream to the long-haired, bearded counterculture. Signing onto the Little David label completed this transition, and this is where he would stay for the next five years.

This album was absolutely ground-breaking for its time. Lenny Bruce was already dead by now, and his discography was fairly underground. Richard Pryor had only recently de-Cosbyfied his act. Carlin’s audio representation of his culutural transition was a huge step in the comedian’s progress, and for that the historical significance is inarguable.

That being said, I have a few problems with it. First of all, I’m knocking an entire rating level down due to the recording being completely in stereo. Carlin in the left channel, the audience in the right. What the fuck is that about? This is the least immersive comedy album listening experience I can think of, and I’m including those Bill Hicks albums with the shitty easy-listening music swirling around the recording. Second of all, I hate to do this, but a lot of these bits are dated beyond contemporary enjoyment. It’s not particularly fun to listen to him riff on commercials that are 50 years old, nor is it interesting to hear a few minutes on Ed Sullivan. Later, Carlin would be better at weaving timeless jokes into topical discussions (I’m thinking the Bush-bashing on Jammin’ in New York), but here there’s not much more to it than surface-level of-its-time material.

There’s a lot of wordplay focus on the FM side. Some of it is funny (“No one ever uses the word ‘shit’ literally, you know? It’s always figurative speech. ‘Hey, get that shit outta here, will ya? Just move that shit out of the way. I don’t wanna hear that shit. I don’t wanna take that shit. You’re full of shit…“), some of it is kind of annoying (“I’m aware some stare at my hair. In fact, to be fair, some really despair of my hair. But I don’t care, ’cause they’re not aware nor are they debonair. In fact, they’re just square.”), but it goes to show how little Carlin had changed over the years. Nothing too philosophically deep or societally relevant happens on FM & AM except a chunk on “Birth Control”, which eventually devolves into more wordplay. Preg-Not! Embry-No! Nary a Carry! Nay, Family Way! Mom Bomb! Junior Miss! Inconceivable! Mommy Not! Fetus Fail! Kiddie Kill! Poppa Stopper! Womb Broom! Humpty Dumpty! There, now you don’t need to listen.

Bottom line? It’s cutesy and culturally inessential by modern standards. If you’re collecting Carlin albums, put this one near the end.

Class Clown (1972)
Rating: Very Good

Here it is, the one with the most famous Carlin routine of all time. It may even be the most famous stand-up routine of all time. I can’t think of anything more iconic than “Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television”. As a side note, I think we’re down to just “fuck”, “cunt”, and “motherfucker” here in 2024, at the time this review was written. We’re getting closer! Keep whittling that list down, society! Unless you’ve been living under a butt, you already know all about this bit, so I won’t belabor the details here. Yeah, though, it was one of the most important comedy routines in recorded history AND he does it without being purposefully racist, obscene, and subversive like your average Lenny Bruce skit. Here, Carlin makes the word “cunt” sound academic.

Of the early albums, the ones on Little David record label, Class Clown takes the top spot easily. Unlike many others, the material here is quite timeless and relatable even to some punk like me who was born in 1987 and listened to this for the first time when he was 15 years old.

Carlin spends the first sixteen minutes (!) on the civic duties of a class clown, such as armpit farting, nose humming, and anything else that would “ATTRACT ATTENTION TO YOURSELF!” He even cracks his knuckles into the microphone, which is extremely gross, actually. He talks about his own stint as a class clown, which leads up to the lucrative career he was fortunate enough to stumble into, and passes along tips to any other young, prospective class clowns from future generations who may be listening.

“Sharing a Swallow” has nothing to do with cum, sorry, but Carlin uses his opportunity on stage to take a big swig of water and place his microphone to his throat. Again, extremely gross, but a fairly innovative bit. Next, he moves onto some commentary about growing up Catholic in New York (while possibly not relatable, it’s very easy to empathize even if you’re some sort of Nevada Jew), goofin’ on mocking the priests at school and/or attempting to imitate them so he could hear a few confessions from his fellow classmates. Plus, the glibness of his various confessions (“Uh, I touched myself in an impure manner. I was impure, impurity and impureness. Body, touch, impure, sex, dirty, impure, legs, impureness. Touch, impure, dirty body, sex, rub and covet; heavy on the covet, Father.“) is fucking hilarious.

I could do without the Muhammad Ali schtick, though. Not timeless, and who cares anyway? That guy is dead!

Toledo Window Box (1974)
Rating: Kinda Bad

Toledo Window Box is a close second, after FM & AM, as the least essential of the early albums. Carlin seems too mellow, perhaps intentionally to match the marijuana-themed bulk of the early material here. It’s loaded with outdated slang and some vague free association. He was clearly more pot-addled than usual, linking every subject to being high and introducing bits with a bunch of, for lack of a better word, rambling.

“‘Cause there all all kinds of variations, all that mystique like wines have crept into the pot. They may were been always there when I was like fifteen or sixteen and learnin’ about grass, it was always ‘Panamanian’ Green; they use the whole word…”

“The first… time the child hears lyrics are nursery rhymes. And they hear them at that much more gathering age, all through zero through five. And that’s their first introduction into bizarre behavior. You’ve thought about your nursery rhymes. Quite a gang we had in there. They were all on on obvious various drug experiences.”

See what I mean? Not very funny.

At least “Some Werds” points out English language eccentricities, a subject that which he was the best in the business and brings the first laughs from me. The first instance where the rambling is effective! I especially like this chunk: “It’s like, ‘semi-boneless ham’. I’ve seen it advertised. ‘Semi-boneless ham’. Now, ‘semi-bone’, hold on here. Does it have a bone? It has a bone. And it’s a bone! Ain’t no ‘semi-bone’! A bone is like a crumb. You don’t think much of a crumb, but think about it: You break a crumb in half, you don’t have two half-crumbs. You got two crumbs, man!”

But then his take on “God” is somewhat incoherent, “The Metric System” is back to drugs, “Gay Lib” rambles a little more but at least it’s open-minded enough for the mid-’70s. The rest of the material is the cutesy gross shit, and no thanks. Stuff about snot and urinals and farts.

Skip this one, man. It’s not jake at all.

Back in Town (1996)
Rating: Good

Back in Town gets lost in the shuffle as a forgettable installment within the Angry Carlin era, but anyone who finds this one to be mediocre is wrong. This one has some of the greatest stuff. And I’m gonna talk about it!

The first half-hour goes over some hot political topics, with “Abortion” kicking everything off with anti-conservative rants and viewpoints that are all-too-sadly still relevant almost 30 years later. “They’re all in favor of the unborn. They will do anything for the unborn. But once you’re born, you’re on your own!” When Roe v. Wade was overturned by the Supreme Court in 2022, this particular chunk of Carlin’s 1996 routine resurfaced as a direct protest against the decision. “They’re not pro-life. You know what they are? They’re anti-woman. Simple as it gets, anti-woman.”

Carlin continues to poke holes into the flimsy belief systems of conservatives and the religious right with respect to the sanctity of life (doesn’t exist) to the death penalty (what happened to the “sanctity of life”?), culminating into a presentation of one of his trademark, out-of-control ideas. This time, fencing off criminals, sex offenders, and murderers into the more desolate regions of the western United States and having them eat each other alive, away from the rest of the public. “And pretty soon you’ll have a melting pot. Child killers, corpse fuckers, drug zombies, and full-blown wack-a-loons. Wandering the landscape in search of truth and fun. Just like now! Everyone will have guns, everyone will have drugs, and no one will be in charge. Just like now!”

Contrasting the heavy, unborn fetus killing stuff, and the serial killer crucifixion stuff, the kitschy stuff comes next. This stuff always shows that the old hippy-dippy guy from the ’70s still lives within the prickly old man he would eventually become. “Farting in Public” falls flat for me, since you can find similar, and funnier routines in the back catalog. Then there’s the perfect marriage of classic observational humor with ranting old man sensibilities with “Familiar Expressions”, where Carlin expresses his very distaste, when taken literally, at phrases like “the greatest thing since sliced bread” and “he gave him the walking papers”. The full bit is the highlight of the album! “More than happy. I bet you say that sometimes, don’t ya? Once in a while you say to somebody ‘Ohhh I’d be more than happy to do that.’ How can you be more than happy? To me this sounds like a dangerous mental condition.”

After some more observational humor, Carlin concludes with a bit about staying home on Election Day; making a case that those who vote have no right to complain and vice versa, the opposite of what people actually say. It’s quite compelling.

Makes me feel better about not giving a shit, that’s for sure. Except vote for real this year, because it’s going to be the shittiest election year in all of our lifetimes (unless 2024 is already over, in which case congratulations to either the old grandpa or the dangerous dumb felon).

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