When my friend Amelie told me last year that she went to a Jim E. Brown concert, I searched Instagram for “Jimmy Brown”. I had no idea what I was about to discover after she quietly corrected my spelling.

AI-generated images on his Instagram page of people he calls his family, flash close-ups of a man who looks too mature to be a 19-year-old (despite insisting on that age for the past four years), and outrageous food reviews which made Amelie once text me that “the way that man eats makes me so afraid.” I was hooked. And when I learned that he was playing at The Curtin, I made sure to get tickets.

Despite having a name that sounds like a generic placeholder, Jim E. Brown has proven himself to be so much more than a regular bloke from East Didsbury, Manchester. The self-proclaimed “alcoholic with degenerative conditions” has populated his body of work with an impressive range of creative work including books, clothing and damp napkins. The lore surrounding Brown is staggering for someone who claims to be only 19 and has earned him a global cult following.

Brown’s true identity is an enigma. It’s unclear whether he’s actually a man from Manchester who carries that name in his legal documents or just a long-running joke by some man from Philadelphia—a suspicion coming from the fact that he seems to do a residency there every couple months. And who is his songwriter, Max Margulies? When I interviewed Brown before his show, I realised it’s best not to question this. He’s called himself a serial liar, so we’ll probably never know the whole truth anyways, and honestly, I prefer it that way.

Brown manned the merch table while his openers, Spürts and Andy Burns, delivered uplifting sets that starkly contrasted with the following chaos. The venue was packed with a surprisingly age and fashion diverse crowd; I even brought along a delightful friend who I think is the antithesis of Brown’s aesthetic, just to see her reaction, and I wonder if others had the same idea.

Brown’s groggy entrance onstage was met with ecstatic cheers. The dissonance had me cackling, and Brown made sure to keep everyone enraptured throughout his performance. Playing fan favourites such as ‘I’m an Obese Alcoholic’ and ‘I Know I’m Going to Die of a Stroke’, Brown bellowed one lyrically shocking song after the other, pausing only for drink breaks.

His voice is agony incarnate—perfect for singing songs of desperation and extreme distress, and evokes Britpop bands like Pulp and The Cure. It’s also worth noting that he constantly establishes his presence verbally throughout his songs and his shows; I think I heard the phrase “my name is Jim E. Brown” at least 20 times that night.

Brown also graced the audience with a spoken word version of ‘I CAN SMELL THE MICE HAVING SEX BEHIND THE WALLS’ and a ridiculous story with his then-girlfriend Nancy dumping him for secretly eating a beef burger (I recall this beef ban being tied to Nancy’s father, a chicken conglomerate mogul who planned to pass down his business to Brown, on the condition that he would only consume white meat). He also made sure to advertise his books—I purchased Brittany’s Burden to entertain me during exam season.

Audience participation included singalongs, song requests and several donations of Victoria Bitter (as he claimed that he would pass away on-stage if he sobered up). When one fan excitingly serenaded him to “fuck off”, Brown asked for the audience’s opinion. It was a unanimous plead to stay.

Brown’s content isn’t for the faint of heart. At times, the imagery of his lyrics—such as washing down fried foods with a dozen beers while yellowed with jaundice and being convinced that he’ll die of a stroke due to the abnormal viscosity of his blood—made me physically recoil. I had to mentally brace myself to avoid feeling ill. But I can’t deny the existential truth behind all that chaos. It’s bleak. It’s bizarre. I’m clearly overanalysing this, but whatever Jim E. Brown is, he’s saying something, and it makes me laugh.

And that’s why I’ll keep listening.

Jim E. Brown is playing another show at The Curtin on 22 June. Many thanks to Jim E. Brown for having me interview him! The interview is available now on Farrago’s YouTube channel.

Illustrations by Amelie Ryder-Potter (@salamanderapocalypse)