Full disclosure: I am currently writing this sitting on a beach in the Caribbean. Other than to be simply annoying, I mention that for a reason. The majority of the most cutting-edge, intelligent, and durable comedy that the artists covered in this book created arose out of personal insecurities, serious angst or disillusionment with the world at large. Refracted through satire, ironic jabs or out-and-out manic rants, those issues time and again became the fodder for what has kept us laughing across an admittedly crazy few decades.

So the fact that I’m on a beach in the Caribbean is kind of important. Because at the moment – for a change – I don’t feel much angst, I’m not too concerned about how the world is on an express train down the crapper, and just feel generally pretty relaxed and non-manic. So maybe I’m not in the best place in the world to really get into the spirit of this book, and the comedic crazies contained in its covers (though apparently the Caribbean breeze is good for alliteration).

Cute intros aside, however, this book tackles a subject that is in dire need of further exploration. Beyond anecdotal biographies of specific figures, there have been sorely few aficionados willing to approach stand-up as an actual art - as the kind of cultural force capable of doing what the subtitle of this book claims. Maybe because that is precisely the kind of self-righteous, pompous, sanctimonious claim so many of these comics would have a glorious time skewering with irony, deflection and parody.