Reggie Watts Sparks Creativity in His Memoir Great Falls, MT

I used to work at a record store, and there was this period from the late 2000s through the middle 2010s when we were on the Comedy Central Records promo list. These promo boxes full of CD/DVD combos ended up introducing me to the works of some of my favorite weirdos: Eugene Mirman’s En Garde, Society, Maria Bamford’s Unwanted Thoughts Syndrome, Kumail Najani’s Beta Male, Todd Barry’s From Heaven. I loved that each standup album came with a DVD of visual comedy bits and oddball skits, and it opened up a world of alternative comedy that I needed as I extended my high school obsession with shows like The Upright Citizens Brigade and Mr. Show. It also introduced me to Reggie Watts.

At that point, Reggie Watts had long been an artist who defied categorization as a member of groups like Maktub and Wayne Horvitz’s 4+1 Ensemble, though I wouldn’t learn that until much later. For me, he seemingly came out of nowhere, this master of spontaneity who used a loop pedal to improvise comedy songs, primarily using his vocal cords. His voice is the most potent instrument he commands, plus he does all kinds of other shit.

I’d seen Andrew Bird loop his violin on stage and once attended a house show featuring Lord of the Yum-Yum, a guy who dressed in a powder blue prom tux and looped whole classical pieces using only his voice. I was fascinated with the practice and discipline it must take to learn how to perfectly time the hit of each button to continue the loops that formed these grand songs. But what I saw when I popped in the DVD for Watts’ Why Shit So Crazy? was a proper elevation of the looping form. Watts is a master of improv and an incredible performer. Plus, he was funny as hell.

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Since then, Watts has appeared in your ears and in front of your eyes as the band leader on the Comedy Bang! Bang! TV show for the first three-and-a-half seasons before leading the band on The Late Late Show with James Corden. Watts now adds author to his resume with Great Falls, MT: Fast Times, Post-Punk Weirdos, and a Tale of Coming Home Again, his first memoir. Watts invites readers to step into the kaleidoscopic realm of his creative genius as the book chronicles his life from his early years growing up in Montana to his experiences as a struggling artist in Seattle and, finally, his ascent to global fame. Throughout, Watts recounts his adventures with humor and a refreshing honesty that showcases his profound understanding of the absurdity and beauty of life.

Reggie Watts weaves together the stories of his personal history, his thoughts, and his artistic evolution. He shares his experiences with sincerity and the kind of whimsy that only he can muster, creating a narrative that is both immersive and uniquely Reggie. His distinctive voice and personality jump off every page with excitement, providing readers with a glimpse into the mind of a true creative force keenly aware of himself.

My whole writing thing, the direction and journey I like to take readers on, all fall into autobio, memoir, and personal essays. I used to wonder if it was because I’m too self-obsessed, but really, I think it’s because there’s nothing I know more about than me. Personal essays are what I enjoy writing the most and what I enjoy reading the most. So, as a fan of Watts, I was excited to crack into Great Falls, MT, but I had no idea that by Chapter 2, I would be feeling incredibly seen.

Watts waxes poetic that even at the age of four, he “was bizarrely…aware. Aware of everything around me, the sights, the sounds, the smells. And aware of myself. In any situation, no matter how sad or happy or intense, I would remove myself from the moment and start studying my response, observing my reaction like some kind of alien-watcher sent to Earth to figure these wacky humans out.” He even remarks that it could be the drugs talking, then quickly reminds himself that he didn’t take drugs when he was four.

I’ve often noticed a similar awareness of myself, but after my last magical mushroom trip last year, in a flurry of thoughts formed by the music and colored lights of our living room, I wondered if I’ve always been like this. I grabbed my notebook and scribbled out this rush of thoughts, peeling back the pages of my story and looking deep within. “As a child, were my thoughts as serious as I remember them being? Was I as self-aware as I remember?”

I have been pondering it ever since, trying to parse if it is because I obsessively analyze past conversations and replay memories on obsessive, endless loops. I’ve often felt like the quiet observer of my own story. Are my memories just reflections of the past seen from the lens of my adult brain, with so many events and adventures behind them? Or did I always have this keen sense of awareness within myself, and I didn’t know how to adequately express it beyond my thoughts? I spend a lot of time thinking about writing and creating, how I am compelled to analyze the things I love, not to strip away the fun or joy they make me feel, but to more fully express the excitement a song, film, or comedy brings me.

And here’s a brilliant, creative dude whose work I have incredible respect for, writing as I do, grateful for the people who helped shape him into the human he is, writing words that describe the same feeling I’ve felt. Our brains are powerful machines, and it was an extraordinary moment to feel a universal connection to someone whose work I have admired for over a decade.

I spent all of last year trying to be a critic, but fuck, it’s exhausting. I often had to fight the urge to turn every review into a personal essay. Thankfully, I have worked with some editors who allowed me to do it like this and even encouraged it. (Hi, Paste Magazine’s Clare Martin!) Am I saying enough to explain how to best enjoy this book? Are my words enough to get you to buy and check it out? Or do you enjoy the idea of reading something that has inspired someone to continue writing and creating? Have I put myself into this because I’m self-centered, or do I want you to understand how this made me feel? Well? Answer me!

Okay, I realize you can’t actually answer these questions, so I’ll move on back to writing more like a critic.

Every other chapter contains an interlude of sorts; some are random ideas, and others progress through Watts’s awareness of writing the book. QR codes have been placed throughout the book to add an interactive flair to the story. The codes allow readers to be transported back through Watts’ life by hearing old recordings of Reggie and his high school pals noodling around with piano ballads, skits that recollect moments of clarity, or even some Maktub if you hadn’t before. Just scan it and transport yourself to YouTube to hear.

What makes this book truly interesting is Watts’ lack of exploration of the creative process. This isn’t a negative point, as it gives you an insight into what a fascinating being Watts is. Watts instead sheds light on the chaos, vulnerability, and magic that occur when an artist surrenders to the moment. His talent comes naturally to him; ideas seem to be constantly running out of his brain and onto the stage. He’s compelled to improvise, driven to create, to always be something more. The lesson we learn about Watts is that he thrives off of his audience, whether it be his childhood friends, his parents, or the crowd watching him on stage. Human interaction and the connections he forms with those critical to his story make Watts unique.

Though Reggie Watts’ autobiographical journey is a rollercoaster of wacky experiences, it also touches on deeper themes, such as the intersection of identity and creativity, the pursuit of authenticity, and the transformational power of art. His story is an inspiration for anyone who has ever felt like an outsider or a misfit and a reminder that embracing one’s unique voice can lead to incredible artistic heights. Great Falls, MT is an engaging, witty, and wildly creative autobiography that mirrors the singular brilliance of Reggie Watts.

Reggie Watts’ memoir Great Falls, MT is on sale now.

Jack Probst is a writer and record collector from St. Louis. He appreciates the works of James Murphy, Wes Anderson and Super Mario. Send any and all complaints to @jackdprobst on Twitter. He enjoys writing paragraphs about himself in his spare time.