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Funnyman's a music man

Comedian Stephen Lynch favors his tunes over his jokes

STEPHEN LYNCH doesn't really care about jokes, which is ironic considering he's a comedian.

While his goal onstage is to make people laugh, he's not the average stand-up either. Lynch, who plays the Tower Theater tomorrow, is a musical comedian, crafting acoustic guitar-driven songs with inspiration derived from decidedly strange places.

A song called "Craig," for example, is told from the perspective of Jesus' hard-partying brother Craig Christ (sample lyric: "I don't turn water into wine/But into cold Coors Light"), while "Three Balloons" is about a drug mule on his way to the airport (sample lyric: "Well I hope that law enforcement agents can't tell from my face/I've got three balloons of coke in an uncomfortable place.")

"The music is more important to me than the comedy, which is surprising for people to hear," Lynch said. "It sounds so strange to say this, but I don't really give a s--- about the comedy."

Even though Lynch says he's more concerned with the sound of his guitar than his lyrics, comedy isn't the fallback career of a failed musician either. Lynch never intended to be a rock star. He was just tired of being a temp.

Born in Abington, Lynch moved to Saginaw, Mich., when he was just 1 year old. ("That's the year you remember the least of, unless something really traumatic happened, which I don't think it did," Lynch said about his time living locally. "I can say I had a really nice time and it was a lovely time of year.") He moved to New York after studying musical theater and took temp work to pay the bills.

Lynch's success was gradual. What started out as a fun weekend activity - hitting a New York City cabaret, covering his guitar with a garbage bag because he couldn't afford a case - turned into radio gigs and eventually his first Comedy Central special in 2000. He framed himself as a children's musician, albeit one who sang songs about transsexual prostitutes. His second Comedy Central special aired in 2008.

Lynch talks about success like he doesn't understand how it happened. He was shocked by it at first, he said, but he's settled into it and enjoys the fact that he can go on a world tour, yet shop for groceries without being recognized. It's not where he imagined he'd be when he was doing summer stock in Michigan.

But once Lynch achieved his goal of working in musical theater, he found it wasn't for him. In 2006 he was cast in the musical adaptation of "The Wedding Singer," playing Robbie Hart, the Adam Sandler role in the 1998 film. Despite being nominated for a Tony, Lynch was bored. The monotony of saying lines written by someone else every night got to him.

Lucky he had comedy to fall back on.

Touring gives Lynch the freedom to change his set every night, by adding new jokes and subtracting ones that aren't working. On his most recent album, last year's "Three Balloons," Lynch went into the studio and was backed by a full band. But he doesn't tour with backup, preferring the ability to improvise without worrying about other players.

"I'm working on a lot of new material right now, so I'd like the freedom to weave them in and out of the show, get a little taste here and there to see if I'm doing it right or if I need to start over again," Lynch said. He said he hopes to try out some of his new songs when he plays the Tower, including "Queer Tattoo," about "the litany of terrible tattoos you see on people," and an ode to Tennessee, where he recently had a bad show experience. He's exacting revenge by taking his frustrations out on the Volunteer State in song.

"It's the best place to try out something new for me: in front of 3,000 people. I don't go down to the local comedy club. I'll tend to just show up at the biggest theater in Philadelphia, that's always a good move," he said, laughing.

But it's worked in the past. He regularly tours Europe, which is hard for a comedian to break into because of cultural differences.

Lynch chalks his universality up to the Internet. Without even trying, Lynch is perfect for digital fame. His songs are three-minute, self-contained bits, and he's not physical onstage, so seeing him isn't tantamount to enjoying him. His work is just as effective in MP3 form as it is on video.

"What's funny is that success I've had on the Internet, I pretty much have nothing to do with it. I've never put anything on the Internet," Lynch said. "People come to my shows and they take stuff and put it on the Internet. I don't have to do any work, which is fantastic. It might ruin a joke or two here or there, but it's worth it when you get to do a tour of Scandinavia every year, whereas a few years ago I couldn't have even pointed to Norway on a map."

Lynch said there are a few instances when his songs don't hit the right note with international audiences, usually when they contain homegrown pop culture references. For example, his song "Crazy Peanuts" describes the Peanuts comic strip characters in descriptions usually not befitting children.

But much of what he does is universal, even if not obviously funny. In "Little Tiny Mustache" he sings about dating a girl who may or may not be a Nazi and in "Waiting" he describes the anxious anticipation of an AIDS test.

"To me, that's the funniest stuff, the stuff that's not really funny. If you can make it funny, there lies the challenge," Lynch said. "The whole goal is to find something original and unique, like sitting in the doctor's office waiting for the results of your AIDS test. To me, that's funny."

Tower Theater, 69th and Ludlow streets, Upper Darby, 9 p.m. tomorrow, $34, 610-352-2887, philadelphia-theater.com.