At Richard’s on Richards on Thursday, March 12

On the full-on freak-show front, Brett Dennen has a way to go before he overtakes Extreme Elvis, Bobby Conn, or MC Joaquin Phoenix. But if Thursday’s show at Richard’s on Richards proved anything, it’s that the red-haired hulk from Oakland, California, is definitely out there, and far more so than the Yaletown condo-dwellers who make up his fan base.

It’s a combination of little things that makes Dennen seem weirder than most of the artists you’ve heard pimped on Grey’s Anatomy. Like the way he chose on this night to offset his grey Dickies pants and farmer-plaid shirt with bare feet. Or the way that his out-of-body-experience performance tics make him seem like a 93-percent-less-bald version of that dude from the Tragically Hip. Or the way he looks like Josh Homme crossed with Chucky from Child’s Play and yet sounds like what Jerry Seinfeld would label a high talker.

But mostly it was his dancing that made you realize that you were in the presence of someone who does things a little differently. To the delight of the crowd, Dennen wasted no time getting into the groove. Obviously enchanted by the tropical-flavoured folk-pop vibe of the kickoff number, “Darlin’ Do Not Fear”, he spent the song swaying like he was watching a summer sunset on the shores of Waikiki. It was strangely transporting, even if you’ve never gotten closer to Hawaii than a mai tai at a Trader Vic’s.

From there, Dennen did a credible job of playing a grimacing white-boy soul man on “Wrong About Me”, busted out modified jam-band samba for “When I Go”, and delivered space-cadet sermons about the beauty of Vancouver, the beauty of the people in Vancouver, and the beauty of everything beautiful on a planet that’s beautifully beautiful.

What was puzzling about it all was how in the hell anyone knows who Brett Dennen is. Even though you haven’t read about him on Stereogum, haven’t heard him on CFOX, and haven’t seen him on Entertainment Tonight, he somehow managed to sell out Richard’s well in advance. For that, you can thank Grey’s Anatomy, House, Scrubs, and ad campaigns for the Hilton hotel chain, all of which have featured his songs.

Predictably, then, the floor was packed with a space-invading assortment of mortgage brokers and pre-med students, not to mention everyone you’ve ever seen shopping at Urban Fare. About a quarter of the singer’s fans came ready to show why rhythmless white people should be banned from doing the Bonnaroo boogie in public, including at Bonnaroo. Although, in fairness, they did plenty of applauding between numbers, the rest of those in the crowd mostly stood around like they were at a wine and cheese party.

Dennen and his four crack backing musicians deserved better. Sure, there were horrible transgressions, the most vile being the extended spawn-of-Santana blues wank that was “All We Have”. But making up for that was the calypso-flecked closer “Blessed”, where Dennen went back to playing a linebacker-sized, barefoot, flame-haired Hawaiian hula dancer, only breaking out of his trance to do the tango with a clad-in-shamrock–green chick who sashayed onto the stage. And yes, it looked every bit as fabulously freaky as it sounds.