Clowns are pariahs in our pop cultural landscape. The Joker is out there terrorizing Gotham City. Krusty is a bit of a drunkard. Ronald gives the kiddies greasy things to eat, while Pennywise eats the greasy kiddies (which is generally frowned upon). While clowns have literally existed across world cultures for over four millennia, our current moment might be the nadir of the oft-white faced comedic entities.
Thankfully, Puddles exists.
At first blush, our cultural training might lead us to assume that Puddles is one of the less than desirable kinds of clowns. The Pagliacci-esque performer is a towering 7-foot presence adorned in a flowing white Pierrot costume with fuzzy black balls dotting its frontside. Puddle's complexion is whiter-than-snow, save for four red accents above and below his eyes, a painted red nose and black lips. A worse-for-wear golden crown with a P on it rests askew atop his elevated dome. But more than any of that, the thing that stands out when first gazing at Puddles is the melancholy presence of his demeanor. While he's clearly more of a sad clown than some cheap Spirit Halloween-style scary clown, it'd still be easy to be unnerved by his initial presence.
But then Puddles opens his mouth and starts singing.
Holy shit.
What emerges from the depths of the clown's diaphragm is a rich operatic baritone with a stunning range of emotional complexity. Puddles peddles in reinterpretations of pop songs, often giving unthinkably fresh new life to tunes seared into our collective psyches. Hearing him find new sonic spaces in ultra-famous songs from artists like Billie Eilish, Cheap Trick, Kid Cudi and Britney Spears borders on the experience of hearing an entirely new song. Puddles has been a frequent collaborator with the viral retro pop reworkers of Postmodern Jukebox, where's he's found new emotional cores in tracks like Tears for Fears' "Mad World," Blink-182's "All the Small Things," Coldplay's "Viva La Vida," and most notably Lorde's "Royals," which turned him into a viral sensation in 2013 and has garnered over 33 million YouTube views to date. And while he also popped up as a competitor on America's Got Talent in 2017, Puddles is most in his zone when putting on one of his cabaret concerts known as Puddles Pity Party.
In a world filled with anti-clown pop culture propaganda, the soaring bliss of a Puddles Pity Party does its part to joyfully counterbalance the narrative.
Puddles doesn't speak.
Oh sure, he sings. But he's essentially a mime when not belting out a melody. Needless to say, that makes interviewing him for a story like this... ummm... difficult.
Thankfully, Puddles' "confidant and consigliere" Mike Geier — who also happens to be a large man who apparently sings in a baritone (huh... weird coincidence!) — can chat in place of his white-faced friend. Geier first "encountered" Puddles while working as a bartender at Star Community Bar in Atlanta back in 1998 and was immediately struck by the uniqueness of Puddles' character.
"That melancholy look in his eye," recalls Geier. "His quietness and presence of quietness I found very intriguing. Because, you know, a bar environment is loud, and kind of nutty with lots of noise going on. And he was quiet. His presence was really intriguing, because I can't stop talking sometimes."
When pressed about why Puddles seems so permanently melancholy, Geier offers up this tidbit: "I'm pretty sure something his meemaw said sort of hangs with him — 'Life is a series of disappointments.' And he thinks that's really funny. That's true, but it's funny for somebody to say that to a kid."
Instantly, Geier became a "key part" of Puddles support team who, along with engineer/musician Tim DeLaney, helps craft the unique arrangements that Puddles brings to the songs he performs in their Atlanta studio. Sometimes that arises from a cappella renditions revealing an invigorating starting spot, while other times it's more of an organic group effort.
"I do think Puddles hears everything like there's a sad banger," says Geier. "Like with emo it was these kind of sad songs that move fast and hard. But he hears that emotional quality in everything."
"I think he listens to the songs," Geier continues. "Sometimes if you really listen, you can hear the real meaning or another meaning within a song. And sometimes it will just be that it's got a beautiful melody. Like on a Billie Eilish song, the beautiful melodies are just right there — you can't avoid them. But like an Ozzy Osbourne song, some of the other adornment or musical aspects of it might take the center stage, but when you pull that away it reveals this other beautiful melody or beautiful meaning that has been sort of obscured by the hardness of a song. You feel that sensitivity within it. There's a delicious sensitive center."
As anyone who's seen a rendition of a Puddles Pity Party knows, it's not merely a clown emotively singing solitarily on stage. During Puddles' set opening for Tenacious D at Northern Quest Casino in 2022, the full stage show was on display. He has a screen playing oft-humorous images to accompany the songs (including lots of Kevin Costner clips... like a lot, a lot of Kevin Costner clips), cardboard guitars of questionable playability, costumes for audience participation and more. It's an amusing and somewhat disorienting mix of media, but there's rhyme to the reason.
"Puddles likes what he likes. And he likes a lot of different things. It seems random, but it's actually not random. It's the fabric of his personality. You might like very, very different things, but they're not random, because you are the context of those things," says Geier. "Puddles likes Kevin Costner films, and he likes coffee, and he likes sad songs, but he also likes how funny it is when you turn a happy song into a sad song."
Geier emphasizes that there's nothing to fear when it comes to Puddles. The whole goal is to cultivate a welcoming environment for musical catharsis with a dash of humor.
"When Puddles encounters someone who is afraid, he goes the other way. Puddles may not be everybody's cup of tea, but he is for everybody. He understands his parameters," says Geier.
The unique odyssey that has been Puddles and his Pity Party doesn't look to be slowing down anytime soon, and the traveling show will set up shop at the Knitting Factory on Oct. 24.
"I always get the feeling that he's just — to borrow from Bob Dylan — keep on keeping on," says Geier. "He seems to be a traveler, so there's always going to be something up around the next bend. He loves this old adage: 'When you come to a fork in the road, take it.'"
In the weird times that are modern existence, there's something about Puddles that just makes sense. When everything seems so messed up and everybody is harboring repressed emotions from a tenuous past few years, a huge clown finding the inherent sadness in our beloved pop songs doesn't feel that strange. If anything, there's an oddly comforting magic to the communal experience of Puddles Pity Party.
"One of his new things is there's a loneliness epidemic. And Puddles is trying to sort of address that a little bit," says Geier. "Because he's always sort of felt like it's a sad and beautiful world, and it's OK to be sad — to feel those feelings. And it's kind of better when you're feeling melancholy to be with other people. It doesn't make it go away. It just makes it a little bit better."
"You may feel like you're alone, but come on out, and we'll all be alone together." ♦
Puddles Pity Party • Tue, Oct. 24 at 8 pm • $30-$55 • 21+ • Knitting Factory • 919 W. Sprague Ave. • sp.knittingfactory.com
