Brian Regan has slowly gained a following among fans, and gained the respect of his peers, with his brand of physical, high-energy observational comedy. He has appeared on “The Late show with David Letterman” over 20 times, and he tours over 80 cities a year. The Renegade Rip talked to Regan about starting out, drinking beer with fans, and the stupid guy inside his psyche. He will be performing at the Fox Theater on Feb. 10.

RR: What were your first gigs like? Where were they? What type of venues?

BR: I started officially in a comedy club, and I performed there for over two years, but I worked there in addition to going on stage. I had to cook burgers in the kitchen, take back the fries after the show. Then when I went out on the road, after that, I played all kinds of places. I played comedy clubs, bars, a lot of bars. Bars that played comedy one night a week, or what they think is going to be comedy, and those rooms could be rough. They could be a lot of fun, but can also be rough. But it’s what makes you better I think.

RR: Rough in what way?

BR: Rough in that those people were often not there to hear comedy. I’m talking about certain rooms, certain nights. They’re there to drink, to shoot pool, to start bar fights; they’re not there to be entertained by subtle social commentary. It might not be what they’re into at the time. A higher hurdle, so to speak, that you have to overcome, you have to really be on your game, to be focused, to get the laugh.

RR: What did it feel like doing those early gigs?

BR: Thrilling, it’s sort of like being on a high wire without a net. You don’t know if you’re going to make it alive. That’s sort of like being a comedian when you first go on the road. You know, it’s like, “am I up to this?” You judge yourself from night to night. If you have three nights that don’t go well, you start looking in the mirror going, “am I delusional?” Then you have another show and you’re on fire, then you go, “man that was great. I know how to do this.” It was exciting I guess, that was one thing that was so cool about it, the excitement to it.

RR: Do you have any good stories from when you were still getting experience on the road?

BR: You’ve heard the expression “hearing crickets?” The proverbial concept of having a bad show. I heard them one time when I was performing at a hotel on an island on the Pacific Northwest and it was a corporate gig.

Those people were not there to see comedy. I was on stage not doing well, somebody had a window open, I finished a joke I got no laughs. Then I heard a cricket outside go chirp, chirp, chirp and the audience heard it.

I said, “wow, I’ve heard of hearing crickets; that’s the first time I actually heard one.” The crowd laughed and I think they realized that we’re supposed to participate a little here. Then I was able to turn it around.

RR: What has it been like seeing your audience grow?

BR: It’s tremendous. I remember first time there were people in the audience there specifically to see me. I didn’t know what was going on! I had just done the MTV “Half Hour Comedy Hour” and basically until this point when I went out to perform in comedy clubs, people went to see a comedy show.

They didn’t know who was going to be on the show. I was on the show and these young guys were walking by me going,”that’s him right there.” I was going, “Who are they talking about?”

Then I realize they were looking at me. Then after the show, they came up and said, “We came up to see you.” And I’m like, “me? Why would you know anything about me?” I can see coming out to see a comedy show. And they said, “well, we’re big fans.” I never had anybody say that ever.

I’m like, “what do you mean your fans? From what?” And they said, “we saw you on the MTV comedy hour.” [I said,] “And you guys are fans?” And they said, “yeah”. I thought, “wow.” I had never experienced that ever.

I was kind of na’ve. It was my first time meeting fans. And they asked if I would go back to their house, if I would go back to a party.

I said, “sure, these are the only fans I have in the world; I want to have beer with them.” It was an interesting experience. Obviously, it has grown from there. I don’t go home with anyone who says they’re a fan anymore.

RR: What was that party like?

BR: I realized they really didn’t have a party. But when I said, sure. They kind of had to manufacture a party.

They were stopping at pay phones saying, “hey we got a comedian.” And I could even hear that the other people didn’t know who they were talking about. [I could overhear] “Brian Regan . no Brian Regan, he’s a comedian. Anyway he’s coming back to the house, we’re having a party. Call so and so and bring him over.”

So, they kind of made a party and it really didn’t come off great.

There were about eight people there, and it was just us sitting around having beers talking about them being fans of mine. I certainly enjoyed it. I sat in beanbag chairs and fielded questions.

RR: Something I noticed watching your stand up, was the faces you make. You really move around, more then other comics I’ve seen. What inspired this? How do you practice something like that?

BR: I started my comedy at a rifle range and I had to keep moving or I’d end up deceased. (Ed. note: he’s joking here.)

When I started, I never purposefully set out to be a physical comedian or to use my face. But when you really look at my jokes, it ends up being like little plays.

It’s me and another character. Me and an inanimate object, an ironing board, a microwave oven, me and a doctor, a flight attendant. So I act out these little vignettes and to act them out you have to be physical. That’s why I do it. I’m not conscious of what I’m doing. It’s just getting into it and when you get into it this is how it comes out.

RR: I’ve noticed that you’ve done your stupid guy voice for a long time. How did that character come about? And why do you think it has stayed in your act so long?

BR: It’s a version of my personality. It’s not my actual self. When I’m at a party I don’t act like that. We all have part of our self, inside our psyche, that are a part of who we are and part of who I am is feeling dumb, when maybe I shouldn’t feel dumb.

When I’m onstage I’m exploring those fantasies to a ridiculous degree. So, that’s the way it comes out.

Hopefully people are relating to it and going, “yeah man, I feel like that myself sometimes.” I think comedy’s better when they’re laughing with you and not at you.

RR: Your comedy focuses on the little things. How do you find this material and why do you think you use it in your act?

BR: It’s fun to find humor in the mundane.

We have a culture in our country that we live in. For me it’s fun to explore these everyday occurrences in our culture, whatever that may be, going to a friend’s house, going to the eye doctor, and try to find humor in what we all experience, going back to laughing with instead of laughing at.

I think laughs are more powerful when people are going, “man I know that experience. I’ve been on this ride.” The more commonplace the topic, the more likely you’ll get people saying, ” Yes, I’ve been on this ride before.”