Album Review: Mel Blanc Associates Presents Superfun by Various
Released in 1966, Mel Blanc Associates Presents Superfun is an oddball gem that straddles the line between promotional material and absurdist comedy. This non-music album from the U.S., released under the banner of Not On Label (Mel Blanc Associates), feels like a time capsule of mid-century advertising quirks, radio skits, and pure creative chaos. With its eclectic mix of styles—promotional jingles, comedic sketches, and random audio snippets—it’s less of an album and more of an auditory collage designed to amuse, confuse, and maybe even sell you something.
The compilation was spearheaded by Mel Blanc Associates, with Noel Blanc directing and producing, while Gary Owens lends his iconic voice to the proceedings. Standout credits include Nick Bennion for writing and design, as well as engineers Mike Cerone and Paul Ryan, who somehow stitched this patchwork quilt of sounds together without it falling apart. Liner notes by Owens add a touch of gravitas to what could easily have been dismissed as mere novelty.
Two tracks stand out in particular. First up is "Karners & Brills - Commercial." It’s hard not to chuckle at the over-the-top enthusiasm here—a pitch-perfect parody of old-school ad campaigns. The exaggerated tone and rapid-fire delivery make it feel both nostalgic and hilariously dated. You can almost picture some poor soul sitting in their living room, utterly bamboozled but strangely compelled to buy whatever Karners & Brills were selling. Was it soap? Toothpaste? A new kind of vacuum cleaner? Who knows, but the absurdity sticks with you long after the track ends.
Then there’s "Psychedelic Facial Tissue - I.D."—a title so bizarre it practically begs you to listen. True to its name, the track dives headfirst into surreal territory, blending trippy sound effects with a mock-serious narrator explaining the wonders of…psychedelic facial tissue? Yep. Somehow, it works. Eugene Twombly’s sound design deserves special mention here; he manages to create an atmosphere that’s equal parts disorienting and delightful. If anything, this track encapsulates the spirit of the entire album: weird, whimsical, and unapologetically experimental.
What makes Superfun memorable isn’t just its content—it’s the sheer audacity of the project itself. At a glance, it seems like little more than a collection of throwaway bits and pieces. But dig deeper, and you’ll find layers of creativity and humor that feel refreshingly raw compared to today’s polished productions. Sure, some parts are rough around the edges, and yeah, a few jokes land with a thud rather than a laugh. But isn’t that part of the charm?
In reflecting on this album, one can’t help but wonder how much fun everyone involved must’ve had making it. In an era before digital editing tools, pulling off such a sprawling, chaotic project would’ve required equal parts talent and patience. And yet, they did it—with style, no less. Listening to Superfun feels like stepping into a world where rules don’t apply, and that’s a rare gift indeed.
So, if you ever stumble across this relic from another time, give it a spin. Just don’t blame us if you start craving Kremmens deodorant or Ferbers mints afterward.
