Contraband might be the most informative part of adolescence. Those things that we’re not supposed to know about let alone have access to. It can be an ex-smoker mom’s emergency pack of cigarettes, a middle-aged dad’s secret stash of nudie magazines, or even that hidden baggie of pot a big sister brought home from her first semester away at college. All are highly educational. However, for a sweet, little boy like me, who also spent his youth swimming in an oversized hoodie, pop culture was the realm where I sought out forbidden treasures: nightmare-fuel slasher movies on worn VHS cassettes; CDs stamped with Tipper Gore’s “Parental Advisory” labels (thanks for the tips); and anything funny that could also get you grounded or shipped off to military school. My friends and I smuggled everything from Jerky Boys and Green Jellÿ CDs to pirated Beavis and Butt-Head tapes between our homes and to and from school. However, no piece of contraband was guaranteed to get your 12-year-old ass in trouble quicker than Adam Sandler’s What the Hell Happened to Me?.
My dad had actually introduced me to Sandler a couple years earlier. He called me into his bedroom early one morning to find the comedian halfway through debuting “The Chanukah Song” on Saturday Night Live’s Weekend Update alongside Norm Macdonald. We laughed as Sandler, still with that clumpy bowl haircut, rattled off famous fellow Jews in a shy, boyish cadence that hinted at the tamer side of his future Billy Madison character. Early ‘90s SNL actually earned me several parental passes over the years. When a friend of mine rented Wayne’s World, my mother made Dad preview it. By the time he got to Wayne and Garth head-banging to Queen in the “Mirthmobile,” he figured no permanent damage would be done. He knew the characters from SNL, and nothing on the show was that bad. So, when Billy Madison came out, Dad was our ride. And when What the Hell Happened to Me? hit the shelves in 1996, he drove me to buy it. On the way back, we listened to “The Chanukah Song” together. If we had listened to any other track, that CD probably never would’ve made it home.
Listening to this cherished part of my adolescence three decades later brings a mix of emotions. I still know every beat, every lyric, every vulgar eruption. If you’ve never listened to Adam Sandler’s comedy albums, they’re just as juvenile as his SNL characters or early films but make the leap to an ‘R’ rating via dirtier material and swearing. It doesn’t take long to figure out why just about everyone I knew who owned What the Hell Happened to Me? got it confiscated at least once. The album sold 2 million copies, and I have to imagine those numbers are padded a bit by rebuys from kids who got caught. (I bought it three times myself.) Part of me shakes my head at the skits and songs that I used to roll on the ground laughing at (“The Adventures of the Cow” or “Mr. Bake-O”), and part of me can’t believe that an eight-minute fart joke (“The Hypnotist,” with the brilliant Kevon Nealon) or Sandler’s embarrassing mother character insisting the whole family play with their “cock ‘n’ balls” poolside (“Do It for Your Mama”) still cracks me up at 42 years old. Indeed, what the hell happened to me?
Several of these skits do remind you of just how funny Adam Sandler’s classic schtick can be. Critics talk in cliches about Johnny Cash reading the telephone book, but what about Sandler’s gibberish (zabadoo!) or temper tantrums? Opening tracks “Joining the Cult” and “Respect” are just excuses for the comic to lose his cool every few seconds and unleash on someone—leaning on that soft, soft, loud dynamic the same way a Pixies or Nirvana song does. “Sammy, jump in front of a fucking truck!” screams Grandpa at a fellow nursing home resident on “Respect” as little Nicky (not that one) tells the men about his first day of school. It’s still hilarious all these years later and a credit to how funny Sandler can be just by doing what he does—the same way his old SNL buddies Chris Farley and David Spade had their own styles.
Sandler carries other bits like “Do It for Your Mama” and “Sex or Weight Lifting” more on the strength of funny voices than clever characters or inspired premises, and the “Excited Southerner” shorts—more annoying after the first couple—offer a glimpse of Canteen Boy/Bobby Boucher off his ritalin in a variety of daily situations. Likewise, the sound effects comedy driving “The Adventures of the Cow” tires quickly as our favorite bovine does everything from skydiving to attending a strip club, and “Memory Lane” earns more grimaces than grins as four friends talk about their 60-year-old-man fetish. However, the one sketch everyone can agree on (“Ah, teamwork!”) is “The Goat.” Based on what sounds like a Cheech Marin impression, Sandler builds an entire world around the concept of a talking goat who lives on the back of an old drunk’s pickup truck. Apart from the better songs on the album, nothing captured the adolescent imagination more than Sandler’s foulmouthed goat, who listens to the AM radio, pals around with the neighborhood fellas, and coined the phrase, “Fuck me in the goat ass!” The horned bastard proved so popular that he got his own song and origin story on Sandler’s next album, What’s Your Name?.
Adam Sandler made his first true mark on SNL with his silly songs, some of the most enduring also appearing on What the Hell Happened to Me?. The aforementioned “The Chanukah Song” remains a festive hit among all denominations, and “Dip Doodle” pays tribute to Sandler’s grandma with gibberish, nonsense verses and tips on how to respect the old lady in the choruses. These hilarious renditions, recorded live, show just how well Sandler—a standup and performer—works a room, giggling as he goes and embracing the laughter and energy of the crowd. The studio recordings on the album—apart from the reggae-flavored “Ode to My Car,” which mocks the shittiest hooptie of all time—don’t fare nearly as well with a lack of audience interaction. The half-baked “Mr. Bake-O” and “Steve Polychronopolous,” a poor man’s take on Denis Leary’s “Asshole” song, both swing and miss, though “Crazy Love,” a duet with actress/singer Lisa Mordente, conjures up enough chemistry to overcome a premise that runs thin before the literal macaroni flies at the end of the song.
As I revisited this record, I kept coming back to the idea of a deranged, slightly perverted older brother or cousin trying to make a 12-year-old laugh. It makes sense that this album landed so hard with kids my age. So much of Adam Sandler’s humor grounds itself in adolescence, the world of lunch ladies and red-hooded sweatshirts, of family holidays and embarrassing parents. His characters are often children, parents, grandparents, or manchildren suffering from arrested development of one kind or another. He’s aiming at an age where we feel lost, longing to fit in, and lacking almost any agency to change the things we don’t like about our small worlds. And yet, What the Hell Happened to Me? also feels like a rite of passage. If being a kid isn’t lousy enough, these songs and skits tease us with the promise of girl troubles, shitty cars, and dumb decisions with drugs to come. A lifetime of embarrassment and frustration awaits us, which makes it almost silly to not laugh when a talking goat rides a rollercoaster or our therapist can’t control his bodily functions.
Sandler thanks everyone over some plunking jazz piano for listening to the album before leaning into the closing title track, which asks, “What the hell happened to me?” Now, in my forties, I feel like I finally have an answer. You grew up, Adam. We all did. And, of course, life turned out differently than any of us expected when we were dumb, naive virgins hiding a copy of your album under our jackets as we snuck past our parents. On some days, it doesn’t feel like much has changed. On others, I can’t believe the ride I’ve had over the last 30 years. Either way, What the Hell Happened to Me? was like a warm, comforting hoodie during those times I needed a silly sidekick to pal around with. And for that I can only say: “Respect!”
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