Reggie Watts Relies Too Much on Nostalgia in New Special Never Mind

From the jump, Watts starts talking about pedals and tapes and other musical jargon, all while pretending it’s the late 1990s. He tries to keep the music tech talk interesting by making snake hissing noises and injecting some observational humor, but the whole bit really feels like it’s made for a very specific target audience. This part of Watts’ set is mostly likely for Gen Xers and/or people who have at some point in their life been in a band; sadly, I do not belong to either of these demographics. 

As for the 90s of it all, Watts’ observations provide some perspective, reminding us how we’ve been spoiled by technology for a while now, but the nostalgia wears thin fairly quickly. His diatribe about how we might have live video one day makes a good point about how we live in a time of modern miracles. Eventually, though, the special begins to feel like a laundry list of nostalgic pop culture bits, from Twin Peaks to MiniDiscs. I love a Lawnmower Man reference as much as the next person, but that’s not enough for Watts to build his set on. 

The musical moments of Never Mind are a different story. One of the first songs of the special sees Watts doing breathy vocals and sultry dance moves as he winks at the audience. His send-ups of different genres work well because there’s clearly so much love and artistry behind his performances. Later on, Watts beatboxes and sings about crowd members going to the bathroom over organ-y synth, then suddenly transitions into a ping pong bit, showing off his vocal dexterity. 

Watts is a man of many talents—his recently published memoir is a testament to that—but Never Mind proves to be an undercooked effort that sees him resting on his laurels.