Take a deep breath. Hold it for a sec. Ok, now, release. Smell that? That, my friend, is the scent of fresh new comedy from Natasha Leggero and it's good. Invigorating and rejuvenating. Of course, if I were going to keep with the theme of her new album Coke Money, instead of asking you to breathe deeply I'd just request you snort a few lines, but that's beside the point.
Leggero's new album contains a lot of fun surprises, and if you only know her from her stint as a judge on Last Comic Standing (where it appeared her only job was to cackle insanely at everything that was uttered by anyone) then you're in for a real treat. She is a highly-skilled comic whose material you'll soon find yourself quoting to your friends.
Observing the world around her and commenting on it with a touch of being appalled by what she sees is Leggero's strongest point. She regards what the rest of the world is gushing about with a "so what" shrug of the shoulders, whether it's home paternity tests, meathead guys telling tales in Vegas ("Bragging that you had sex with a prostitute is like bragging that you got some Doritos from a vending machine"), "toilet babies," or her own adventures on a reality talent show ("Tonight, the bottom two decide which six will join the final five.").
Like many comedians with an edge, Leggero is at her best when the claws come out, taking swipes at those who deserve it most: hip hop artists who loop classic songs, the cast of "Jersey Shore", and girls who never knew they were pregnant. In a hilarious track called "Girl, You Ain't Got No Arms," Leggero explains why she (and most of us who have moved away from small Midwestern towns) have no interest in returning home.
Coke Money is a mostly-solid project; its only weakness being the first track. The album begins with Leggero taking on a rich, white, Thurston Howell-esque persona that gets old pretty quickly and doesn't garner the big laughs like the rest of her time on stage. She also takes this time to unleash all of her filthy material, so it's a bit of a red herring. Because she starts off working so blue, one might assume that's what is in store for the rest of the project. The overtly-explicit material isn't really her forte but Leggero gets it out of her system after a couple of minutes, she loses the rich, "dah-ling" accent, and that's when the big laughs roll in.
After all is said and done, Leggero accomplished what she set out to do: she made me laugh. Coke Money is an album that gets more enjoyable with each listen and I'm excited to see what she has in store next.