POP MUSIC REVIEW : Vaudeville Is Revisited at the Dr. Demento Bash

Even after 20 years, Dr. Demento doesn’t seem to realize the power at his fingertips. With the devotion of fans such as those who filled the Raymond Theatre in Pasadena on Sunday, when he presided over a show marking the 20th anniversary of his radio career, he could rule continents, start a religion or even sell Amway products.

Fortunately for the world, the good doctor is as innocent as the Trekkie-like Dementoids who have made him their guru of giggles. Most of the performers assembled for this show harked back to more innocent ages in their brief appearances.

There were Uncle Floyd’s neo-vaudeville ditties and Tiny Tim’s surrealistic tiptoes through Tim Pan Alley, Bobby (Boris) Pickett and Sheb Wooley’s early rock ‘n’ roll high jinks (“The Monster Mash” and “Purple People Eater,” respectively), plus various archival audio and visual delights from such masters as Spike Jones, Tom Lehrer and Allan Sherman.

Even the sicko artistry of Barnes & Barnes (the landmark “Fish Heads” film plus a rare one-song live appearance) and Ogden Edsel’s Bill Frenzer (“Dead Puppies”) seemed almost quaintly anachronistic.

And what is Demento’s biggest star, Weird Al Yankovic, if not a video-age vaudevillian? His latest “Polkas on 45” medley included polkadelicized versions of “Ice Ice Baby,” Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” and Motley Crue’s “Dr. Feelgood.”

Demento’s best treasure was the oldest. At 87, Benny Bell is the real thing, a Borscht Belt vet with a teasing blue streak that’s only enhanced by his genial, grandfatherly demeanor.

It was Bell’s show-concluding classic, “Shaving Cream,” that provided the watchword of the empire of Dementia: “If any of you are offended, stick your head in a bucket of s-s-s-h-h-h-h-having cream.” Noted ‘90s free speech advocates Axl Rose and Luther Campbell can’t (and don’t) say it better.