Yes, you should tape yourself and watch the tape. Yes, you should have other comics, preferably vets, critique you. Yes, you need to write often, if not daily. But none of that matters, and some of it doesn't even happen, if you don't get on stage.
Duh, Scott. I've heard that since I got into comedy. Okay, gentle reader, but do you really know it? Do you really know the progression involved in developing your act as it pertains to stage time?
In a previous post, Frustrated Part 2: Get Real In The Present, I did the math of how much stage time you actually amass during a year when doing sets.
Short recap: if you had a 15 minute set every Friday & Saturday for a year, that would only equal 26 hours of stage time.
That's not a full work week. That's not even the legal minimum amount of hours in a work week for you to still qualify as a full time employee (30). And that's over the course of A FULL YEAR!
Have you ever put it into perspective like that?
Have you ever really looked at how much time you've put into your comedy career, in terms of time on stage?
Simple formula: Add up the total minutes of all your sets in a year and divide it by 60. That will give you the total number of hours you've been on stage for the year.
Hint: It may shock you how small the number is. If a headliner worked two shows every weekend for a year that would only equal 78 hours on stage...for the year.
And, while there is definitely something to the accumulation of total stage time, you know how rusty you are if you go a week or two between gigs. It's like you went back a step. God forbid you go a month between gigs. Although, I think I've gone the longest...
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| Our hero photo bombing a soda bottle in 1990...and, yeah, French cuffed jeans |
Back when I had hair, and really big glasses, I started doing stand up comedy at Montclair State College (now University). I started at an all-types open mic in the fall of 1989, where I went on just after a band that gave the finger to the student club people running the show because they weren't going to be limited to just eight minutes, and just before a freshman girl singing a Barbara Streisand song.
I did another open mic a few months later and then I was asked to MC a battle of the bands (sidebar: Don't. Ever. Host a battle of the bands. If you've ever thought about doing comedy while high school seniors and college kids are screaming for their favorite band to come on, while you have to kill time between bands setting up, stab yourself in the neck with a fork and watch Dancing with the Stars in super slow motion. You will still have had a better night than I did).
After that, I was asked to MC each of the five summer 1990 and 1991 Freshman Orientation Weekend comedy shows, partly, I'm sure, because I was a Freshman Orientation Counselor. These shows featured three college circuit comedians, booked by Tony Camacho, who's now in Las Vegas. You'll likely recognize names like Bob Nelson and Ralph Harris.
I also found a comedian's open mic Friday nights at a deli called Something Different in Bloomfield, NJ.
Tony told me he was going to start booking me at local clubs, but I hesitated, and eventually ended up getting an over-night radio show, and essentially walked away from comedy for twenty years. Twenty years. Two decades.
In that time, I worked steadily in radio, and various other business ventures. Got married, twice, had kids, etc.
Then I decided I didn't want to say that I used to do standup comedy anymore.
Immediately upon making that decision, I lucked into my first gig (it was paid, too!). I was asked to do a ten minute set inside my radio listener market at a 500 person fundraiser, at a theater, opening for two Philadelphia radio and comedy legends. No pressure. Yeah.
I'd like to tell you I did open mics leading up to the gig, but being on a morning show at the time, it was tough to get out late and miss something important like getting at least four hours of sleep a night.
I did the next best thing I could, I literally bored the crap out of my best friend who would listen to me do my set over the phone three times a week for six weeks. God bless him for still laughing at the punchlines after the third time he heard the set.
The set went okay. I've been on stage before, handled a crowd and a microphone, and, hey, I had some experience at comedy twenty years prior, right? There were some friends and family in the audience, so I'm sure those courtesy laughs helped me get more real laughs.
But, later after viewing the tape I whittled the set down to 3:15 of highlights. To this day, I still think there's only about 1:30 of good material, maybe.
I wasn't a total newbie because of my prior experience. I had energy, confidence, personality and some decent jokes (or premises). But, like all newbies, I had lots and lots of set up. A lot of my stuff was much too wordy leading up to a punchline.
After that gig, I found a couple of local bookers, who were likely more into my potential reach as a radio host than my talents as a comedian, and rightly so at the time. Ultimately, through practicing, guest spotting, gigging, networking, being nice, paying it forward (like I talk about in previous blog posts), and good fortune, I was able to get to where I am today...which is much further along than I was when I started either time, but nowhere near close to where I want to be.
I don't mean where I want to be in terms of level of success and fame, obviously I'd like to be more successful than I am. I'm talking about my level of comedy.
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| 22 years later at The Borgata, Atlantic City, NJ...without the French cuffed jeans...or hair |
Every time I watch a tape of myself I see how horrible I did. Okay, that's a little bit of an exaggeration. I'm consistently hired and hired back by clubs and bookers, I play some pretty great venues, I know I'm funny...but I'm not as funny as I think I can, or should, be. I see massive flaws, even with the jokes, bits or sets that totally crush all the way through.
So, what do I do, besides drink heavily to make the voices stop?
Well, what do you do? Do you keep getting on stage? Do you tape your sets (and then watch them)? Do you ask for and accept critiques from veteran comics? Do you keep writing? Do you do it over and over and over again, rinse and repeat?
Can you honestly say you're doing everything you should to be a successful as you say you want to be?
It all comes down to one thing...getting on stage as much as possible, as often as possible.
Rinse and repeat.
