In the dizzying, ludicrous, sociopolitical climate America has reduced itself to, what used to feel relevant now seems impotent. Take the overlapping forms of political comedy and protest art. Humor remains useful as a way to avoid insanity, but mocking someone as self-evidently farcical as Donald Trump is sadly futile. At worst, comedy right now can come off as clueless about how bad things really are, like laughter at a funeral. Protest art faces an even bigger quandary: how can artists hope to sway the consciousness of a public paralyzed by endless distractions, algorithmic bubbles, and weaponized lies?
It’s fitting, then, that one of the few explicitly anti-Trump albums released since the November election comes not from a truth-telling comic or a hard-hitting musician. Instead, it’s by an anti-comedian known not for satire or commentary but absurdity and layers of irony. As you might expect, some of Tim Heidecker’s bluntly titled Too Dumb for Suicide: Tim Heidecker’s Trump Songs has the what-the-fuck quality of his surreal TV programs “Tim and Eric’s Awesome Show, Great Job!” and “On Cinema at the Cinema.” When he’s in this mode, the ambiguity of his sincerity—how funny is this really supposed to be?—becomes the point, rather than just making you laugh or giving you clear messages to think about.
But even though there’s a fair share of goofy meta-comedy on Too Dumb For Suicide—an alt-rock anthem about Trump’s bowel movements and a parody of Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville” called “Mar-A-Lago” being the most obvious examples—the best parts of the album can actually be taken at face value. Heidecker wrote these songs quickly, “with the blood still boiling from whatever indignity or absurdity had popped up on my newsfeed that day,” as he put it. That expediency apparently pushed him to be more direct in places, helping him capture some of the fear and anger in our current miasma.
Too Dumb For Suicide opens quite directly, with a statement of intent called “Trump Tower.” Heidecker insists he’ll keep mocking the president no matter the consequences, even ending by openly thanking the First Amendment. Such a forthright approach produces the album’s best moments. On the Randy Newman homage “Cooked Chinese Chicken,” he makes a compelling case for burning the White House down to eradicate Trump’s stain. A fantasy ballad about Trump’s future legal reckoning, “Sentencing Day,” plays like both a celebration and an elegy. Heidecker’s words—“He’ll be gone/And we’ll all get to move on”—sound hopeful, but his mournful piano echoes the dread that justice might never be delivered. Even better is the buoyant “Trump Talkin’ Nukes,” a meditation on how one crazy person can blow up the world that’s also a surprisingly poignant history of generations dealing with nuclear doom, from hiding under school desks to play-acting Red Dawn.
In between these thoughtful tunes, Heidecker clowns things up to varying degrees of success. In the bluesy “Richard Spencer,” he relays a decree from God that it’s OK to punch Nazis, while the countryfied “For Chan” is a caricature of internet trolls narrated by a greasy-faced alt-righter who “can’t get away with murder/But I can ruin somebody’s weekend.” (Heidecker writes from experience here, having been targeted himself). Less convincing are tracks that indulge in easy cliches, such as “MAGA,” a heavy-handed satire of the stereotypical Trump voter that sounds like a bad Twitter thread.
The weaker spots on Too Dumb for Suicide don’t diminish its high points. It’s perhaps inevitable that a project aimed at a broad yet impenetrable target would be hit or miss. But the hits work in part because they’re coming from someone who is rarely this earnest in his passion. Here and there, Heidecker manages to articulate some of our prevailing confusion and terror in a way that resonates. With the days getting increasingly darker, even a few such moments can feel like the light at the end of a tunnel.
