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.

And yet, I, for one, think the claim makes sense. If you don’t agree that the best of the talents here – Carlin, Pryor, Martin, Brooks, Kaufmann, Williams, Seinfeld – changed the ways in which we understand, appreciate and talk about America, then you probably aren’t exposed to much comedic media, from movies to the Daily Show to self-referential advertisements on TV. Still, that is by and large where this book falls short: it never really backs up the hefty claim made on its cover. If you agree with it going in, then you’ll love the excerpts from routines, the biographical details, the backstage anecdotes, the insider’s history of the industry in the 70’s. If you don’t, the general argument isn’t really advanced enough (beyond some sweeping generalizations) to convince you.

Still, for any fan of the history of stand-up, lengthy appraisals of figures like Albert Brooks and Robert Klein (more known about than known by today’s comedy audiences) will be welcome reading. The histories of the comedy clubs – both in New York and LA – are full of interesting stories and criss-crossing one-off meetings. Tracking the rise of young comedians like Leno and Letterman, who have become so central to American culture at large, is fascinating when woven into the larger narrative fabric at work here. And all the (generously) excerpted bits from a wide range of comedic voices had me laughing out loud numerous times, and doing some furious searching on YouTube. Just don’t expect a massive scholarly tome that will change everything you know about America and what makes it laugh.