I recently discovered this post through the blog of Rory Scovel, a talented DC comic and friend of mine. I decided to re-repost
this since I think it's a pretty brilliant list; its great to know for people who may be getting into any comedy scene, and
a fun read for those who are already involved in one to some degree. Enjoy. - Tyler
"I'm Only a Man, Part 11: How to Attend a Comedy Show" by Carol
When I was a senior in high school my A.P. English
teacher stopped our lesson plan cold during the first semester in order to give us a two week remedial course in cursive handwriting.
Now, while that was an exercise in retarded futility, there is something to be said for taking a step back and relearning
some things we should have already mastered.
As a professional comedy show audience member, I feel I am well-suited
to shed some light on the mystery that is appropriate comedy show behavior. Thus, I have developed the following primer for
those who are considering attending their first comedy show, those who just need a little refresher on the finer points, and
those who don't realize they need it but actually need it more than the former two types of audience member. So let's get
started, shall we?
Before the Show
1. Don't be that guy or girl
If a friend says to you, "Hey, you wanna go to a comedy show with me?" do not immediately respond, "Oh I HATE going to comedy
shows, they ALWAYS say something to me!" No, they don't. You're narcisstic and you don't like comedy, so be honest. (If you
still think comics always single you out, see ..5). Also, comics and comedy clubs vary wildly. Some comics don't even recognize
that the audience is there, some base their whole set on crowd work. Some venues cater to the "Hey, where are you guys from"
style of comedy and others to the "What would you mix with powdered water " comedy. Which leads us to the next point...
2. Know where you're going
If you're going to Caroline's you're going to spend at least $40 on the cover and two drink minimum, more depending on the
popularity of the performer. You're also going to need to make a reservation, check in when you get there and wait in line
to be ushered in. If you're going to an "alternative" comedy show at a dive bar, you may pay nothing and drink PBR but still
wait in line, only this time amongst the equally "alternative" comedy audience. You could also be the only person in the audience
who isn't performing on the show depending on how far down the rabbit hole you want to crawl. In that case, be prepared to
either A) pretend you're on the show if you don't want to be addressed or B) accept that all jokes will be delivered directly
to you and that the comics will eat it or not based on your one laugh. Taste that? That's called power. Sweet, uncomfortable
power.
3. Don't be afraid to try something new
One of the biggest hurdles unestablished comics face is getting good stage time. That's why so many comics attempt to start
their own shows. However, there are only a handful of really established and consistently attended alternative venues: Rififi,
Mo Pitkins, the UCB Theater are a few. New comedy shows live or die based on their ability to attract an audience and supply
the venue with drinkers. Unfortunately, people don't seem to enjoy going places they haven't already been and venues don't
always want to give a show time to build audience slowly. So if you hear that Judah Friedlander is doing a set one night at
a place you've never heard of and another night at Gotham, don't be so quick to rule out going to that new place. You'll probably
have a great time and feel like you discovered something while simultaneously supporting the same entrepreneurial spirit that
helped build shows like Eating It and Invite Them Up.
During the Show
4. Arrive on time but not for the reason you think Comedy shows tend to get going anywhere from 10 minutes to a
half hour or more after the publicized start time. However, this creates a problematic cycle: the show starts late because
the producers are waiting for a bigger audience, the audience knows the show starts late so they arrive late, the show starts
even later, so the audience starts arriving even later...you see the problem. So even if you know a show won't start until
8:30, if at all possible go ahead and arrive at the official 8:00 start time. You'll be saving the host some stress, have
time to get a drink and get a better seat.
5. Don't be that guy or girl, part 2
If you find that you are always getting singled out at comedy shows, guess what, there's something you're doing to attract
attention. Maybe you have a dumb laugh or an ugly date, maybe you're talking too loudly to your companions, maybe you're sitting
quietly with a sour look on your face. What you have to understand is that when a comic is on stage he or she is working.
The comic isn't particularly interested in anything about you except hearing you laugh, unless of course crowd work is part
of his or her act, but you would still have to make yourself noticed in order for the comic to single you out. One exception
to the rule is pretty girls. If you are a pretty girl and you don't want the comic to say anything to you, don't sit front
row center.
6. You aren't helping
This is so basic it seems like it shouldn't have to be said, but sadly it does. Heckling is not part of the show. You aren't
working with the comedian when you yell something out at him or her. If you need to talk at a comedy show go to an open mic
and get on the list, don't work on your lame material when someone is on stage. (Note: I officially apologize for the one
and only time I heckled a comic...I was drunk, it was 1:30, a friend was on stage and he claimed to have just recently taken
part in a threesome...seriously, what would you have done? Still, sorry, John.)
7. For the love of God, laugh you douche bags
Why would you go to a comedy show if you think you're so above laughing? Wouldn't moody aloofness be more appropriate for
some other activity, like the indie rock shows you've already ruined with your vapid, blank stares. Stand-up isn't a battle
of wits between you -- the well-read, bespectacled, Vann-wearing audience member -- and the talking monkey trying to entertain
you. Here's a news flash: you aren't any cooler than the person on stage, so get the fuck over yourself, loosen up and have
fun. That's what you're supposed to be there for, moron.
After the show
8. Have another drink Again, if it's a small show at a bar or lounge it's always good to hang out and have another
drink. It certainly helps put the comic in good sted with venue, plus you might have an opportunity for ..9.
9. Do show your appreciation, don't be a weirdo One of the fun things about comedy shows in the city is that it's usually very easy to talk to the comics afterword. And
comics like positive attention, so there's no reason to be afraid to say something. However, don't be creepy. If the comic
you want to talk to is busy or already involved in a conversation, don't walk up and stand next to him or her until you're
noticed. And please for the love of god, don't seize the opportunity to show him or her how funny you think you are. Be complimentary,
be nice, ask a question but don't be starstruck and don't think you're cool. Finally, as stated, comics love attention so
if you simply tried to strike up a pleasant conversation at an appropriate moment and he or she acted annoyed or superior,
that comic is an asshole.
10. Go tell it on the mountain If you saw a good show, tell people about it. Go back and take people with you. Comedians
work their asses off for very little money in the hopes that more and more people will see them and they can build a following
that magically translates into a career. So if you really love comedy, support it. Trust me, the comics will thank you.
Most dance music is pretty irrelevant. I meant that in terms of life in general. Rarely does it have a good reason to exist.
I'm targeting house and club music, by the way, not anything generally danceable; that'd be verbal xenocide. By default, any
form of music that exists for the sole purpose of getting large groups of people to move their bodies in various degrees of
syncopation is dumb, and generally incapable of lending itself to anything prototypically masculine or musically redeeming.
Alan Vega tinkered with this in the early 70’s, and some groups followed through on the idea of turning electronic or dance
music into something dark, bloody, and/or altogether self-defeating. Needless to say, house music, especially in cosmopolitan
centers like New York and London, simply decimates music's function as a machine against fascism. As Dave Attell put it in
his Comedy Central special, “’You Got to Work it! You Got To Push It!'...I DON’T GOT TO DO ANYTHING! The last thing I need
is to be getting bossed around by my music!”
So, in what capacity has dance music developed a respectable foundation?
How has it turned into a genre worth spending money on and listening to on the way to work? By embracing its own goddamn absurdity,
that’s how! Two groups who both encompassed everything gay and great about this were the Pet Shop Boys and Erasure. While
both groups have produced a number of straight-up classic singles during their respective careers, Erasure, for a number of
reasons that are still adding up, have been one of the five most important bands I’ve latched onto in my twenty-three and
1/5 years.
The first, most relevant reason is that “A Little Respect” may be my favorite pop song of all time. When
I first began watching MTV and formulating a musical taste circa 1988, I remember seeing this tongue-in-cheek video several
times a week, and wondering why I liked it so much. The song was incredibly catchy, full of good beats and hooks, and the
lyrics were sweet, unpretentious, and not even that dumb. I watched this well-cut guy in a tight white t-shirt, a shiny earring
dangling from his left ear, singing his brains out. The other dude, the one evidently behind the music, was a strange-looking
guy sitting at a piano, playing the guitar, and dancing with a skeleton.
I don’t remember when I first began to understand what this whole “gay”
thing was, but I knew that that guy with the earring had something to do with it. Of course, elementary school has never been
the place to learn about gay rights and inclusive language. To most kids, including myself for a short while in middle school,
anything could be “gay”- an annoying homework assignment, a band on the radio that we didn’t like, a gym class activity that
none of us could do well (Fuck the mile run and pull-ups. Just saying). I never remember thinking that homosexuality was wrong
or against the natural order of things or any such nonsense, but I thought about it with the same sense of ambivalence when
I was young as most of my friends did.
But, as I started to read about music and discovered how much ground Andy Bell
broke, I never forgot how much I loved his song, how entertaining the video was, and how damn good this guy was at singing,
even badass in certain respects!
It wasn’t until at least eight years after I first saw it that I began to see the “A Little Respect” video for most of its
damn funny tongue-in-cheek qualities. I didn’t get all of the jokes that Andy Bell and Vince Clarke injected into it, but
none of them mattered individually when it all boiled down. As I discovered around that time, Bell had been one of the first
openly gay pop singers in the UK if not the music world at large. His straight (both in a deadpan and a heterosexual sense)
sidekick who made the hooks and beats had once been a member of Depeche Mode. In fact, many opine that Clarke’s departure
in the early 80’s triggered dissolution of Depeche Mode’s great early dynamic that generated “See You” and “Just Can’t Get
Enough” (the true archetype of cheesy synth-pop for decades). After a short-lived project called Yaz, Clarke found Bell, and
they set off with the most successful project of their respective careers. The duo’s radically different personalities have
been a major reason why Erasure has worked for so long, rather than forging creative differences as they do in innumerable
cases. Vince Clarke is a low-key popsmith who barely ever acknowledges the spotlight. Bell is a flamboyant, excessive showman
who was built for the stage. According to many sources, the two have never had an argument. That traverses about twenty years
of working together, including worldwide touring, dealing with record labels, and the inevitable pressures of fame; never
getting into a verbal altercation. It’s an almost superhuman level of accord.
I recently found a copy of “Pop! The
First Twenty Hits” used, and since have rediscovered my appreciation for Erasure on a number of levels. “Oh L’amour,”
“Drama!” and “Heavenly Action” are all terrific, stripped down, catchy-as-hell singles, not to mention complete with titles
that just scream gay and proud. Listening to “A Little Respect” after all of these years, I’ve just recently taken count that
Erasure, more than any specific cultural icon, built up the ally that I am today. I would like to think that I’d have had
the sense to support gay rights even in a world without Erasure, but all I know is that having “A Little Respect,” “Heart
of Stone,” and the rest of their catalogue has made it that much more enjoyable.
I recently discovered this post through the blog of Rory Scovel, a talented DC comic and friend of mine. I decided to re-repost
this since I think it's a pretty brilliant list; its great to know for people who may be getting into any comedy scene, and
a fun read for those who are already involved in one to some degree. Enjoy. - Tyler
If you find that you are always getting singled out at comedy shows, guess what, there's something you're doing to attract
attention. Maybe you have a dumb laugh or an ugly date, maybe you're talking too loudly to your companions, maybe you're sitting
quietly with a sour look on your face. What you have to understand is that when a comic is on stage he or she is working.
The comic isn't particularly interested in anything about you except hearing you laugh, unless of course crowd work is part
of his or her act, but you would still have to make yourself noticed in order for the comic to single you out. One exception
to the rule is pretty girls. If you are a pretty girl and you don't want the comic to say anything to you, don't sit front
row center.
Most dance music is pretty irrelevant. I meant that in terms of life in general. Rarely does it have a good reason to exist.
I'm targeting house and club music, by the way, not anything generally danceable; that'd be verbal xenocide. By default, any
form of music that exists for the sole purpose of getting large groups of people to move their bodies in various degrees of
syncopation is dumb, and generally incapable of lending itself to anything prototypically masculine or musically redeeming.
Alan Vega tinkered with this in the early 70’s, and some groups followed through on the idea of turning electronic or dance
music into something dark, bloody, and/or altogether self-defeating. Needless to say, house music, especially in cosmopolitan
centers like New York and London, simply decimates music's function as a machine against fascism. As Dave Attell put it in
his Comedy Central special, “’You Got to Work it! You Got To Push It!'...I DON’T GOT TO DO ANYTHING! The last thing I need
is to be getting bossed around by my music!”
It wasn’t until at least eight years after I first saw it that I began to see the “A Little Respect” video for most of its
damn funny tongue-in-cheek qualities. I didn’t get all of the jokes that Andy Bell and Vince Clarke injected into it, but
none of them mattered individually when it all boiled down. As I discovered around that time, Bell had been one of the first
openly gay pop singers in the UK if not the music world at large. His straight (both in a deadpan and a heterosexual sense)
sidekick who made the hooks and beats had once been a member of Depeche Mode. In fact, many opine that Clarke’s departure
in the early 80’s triggered dissolution of Depeche Mode’s great early dynamic that generated “See You” and “Just Can’t Get
Enough” (the true archetype of cheesy synth-pop for decades). After a short-lived project called Yaz, Clarke found Bell, and
they set off with the most successful project of their respective careers. The duo’s radically different personalities have
been a major reason why Erasure has worked for so long, rather than forging creative differences as they do in innumerable
cases. Vince Clarke is a low-key popsmith who barely ever acknowledges the spotlight. Bell is a flamboyant, excessive showman
who was built for the stage. According to many sources, the two have never had an argument. That traverses about twenty years
of working together, including worldwide touring, dealing with record labels, and the inevitable pressures of fame; never
getting into a verbal altercation. It’s an almost superhuman level of accord.
