You Should Have Told Me

Paul F. Tompkins strips away the cartoonish suits and theatrical arrogance of his earlier albums to try something quieter. Working a tiny stage, he aims his highly articulate frustration inward, turning himself into the punchline. The material relies on his usual extensive vocabulary and precise timing, but the focus shifts to ordinary life. He discusses turning forty, which he notes is the first age where you actually have to be a person.

The set was recorded over four nights at the 74-seat Laughing Skull Lounge in Atlanta. The venue was so small that he had to run a Twitter campaign to guarantee enough bodies for the Comedy Central taping. This performance sits right at the midpoint of his career evolution, bridging the gap between his conceptual early stand-up and the long-form narrative shows he developed later. He covers the stress of buying a first house and the social mechanics of a funeral, finding a way to recount his mother’s death by mocking the public performance of mourning. When guests offer their condolences, he decides the only proper response is to tell them they are not as sorry as he is. The title of the release comes from an equally grounded anecdote about throwing up in the back of a cab.