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

Reggie Watts is a musical chameleon, capable of hopping from hardcore to jazz at a moment’s notice. His musical skillset is impressive; if only the same could be said of his comedy.

Don’t get me wrong—Watts can be hilarious, but he simply isn’t that effective in his new special Never Mind, available now on the platform Veeps. Also, any hour of stand-up that starts out with a Fred Armisen cameo is going to set me on edge; he’s a grating presence, even if I am thankful he co-created Los Espookys. 

Watts is dry and deadpan when he’s speaking in Never Mind, then embraces his goofy side once he gets behind any instrument. The silliness is where Watts truly shines, and the contrast between these two elements of his set could be a real source of humor—if only the non-musical parts of his special were better. While Watts introduces plenty of word play and occasionally lets some of his absurdity seep into his stand-up—his Donald Duck-meets-Cartman impression of Clippy comes to mind—for the most part he gets too esoteric and leans too much into nostalgia. 

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.