There are a host of Nu-Philadelphia comedians whose work I adore, and that you’ll see essayed in the folds of dosage MAGAZINE. Not all of them, yet, have the wherewithal to get that most important token of stand-up under their belt: the live, stand-up comedy album.
Coming up for me, the stand-up comedy album – as a listener and fan – was the thing that made a comedian all-the-more-special, a great calling card of sorts. Think Carlin, Kinison, Dangerfield.
For Philadelphia stand-up comedian Che Guerrero, the live album isn’t just a great getting-to-know-me tactic, it is a declaration of independence; a favored one at that, as with the upcoming release of his “A Temporary Summit” this November, he’ll have two self-recorded albums in the bank.
Born in the Dominican Republic and, by his count, “undocumented for over 20 years with an awesome escape story” (you’ll have to listen to the album when it drops to hear his dueling accounts), Guerrero sings an immigrant song like no other. Guerrero makes leaving his homeland with his family less of an escape than a vividly imaginary, yet highly pragmatic field trip – one that’s instantly relatable to anyone who has had a drunk for a father.
Beyond the rough realities of immigration status in Trump Country, the nineteen separate stories that fill “A Temporary Summit” – recorded back in July at Punch Line Comedy Club – touches on everything from youthful divorce and women who make more money than a man, dating women with tattoos, and neighborhood cyber-bullies such as “Ozzie” and “Austin,” the latter cad delivering gay internet porn via dial-up.
Here is a video of Che Guerrero around the time of his Punch Line gig. Let this satisfy you until the album drops.