Starting Standup Comedy - A conversation with Lemmy

While most people are here to follow along with my incredible comedy journey and rise to greatness, I also want to get other perspectives about starting a comedy journey. For me, there’s no better place to start than with a personal friend of mine and terrific comic, Lemmy. He and I have a lot in common, in that we’re both old people with kids. I remember meeting Lemmy my second set out and there’s not a nicer person in the Colorado scene. You can see Lemmy performing live around the South Denver and Fort Collins areas, and he runs a monthly show at Snowpack Taproom in Conifer, CO.

He’s dynamic and aerodynamic!

Chris: So, how’d you get started in comedy?

Lemmy: I started writing jokes in 2021 during lockdown. Filled a couple notebooks. In 2022, when things opened up again, I went to a few mics. After getting the nerve up to go on stage, I bombed each time—worse than the time before. After four or five tries, I seriously considered joining a Buddhist monastery so I’d never have to talk to a person again.

Chris: I assume you didn’t take a vow of silence?

Lemmy: Nah. Instead, I spent nine months writing all new stuff. May 2, 2023, I went to a mic, didn’t die, and have been doing it ever since.

Chris: That’s a real “burn it all down and start over” approach.

Lemmy: Yeah, I’ve always believed in scorched-earth comedy.

Chris: Who’d win in a fight: a lawnmower or a washing machine?

Lemmy: Lawnmower. It’s all about mobility.

Chris: What about a duckbill platypus vs. a penguin?

Lemmy: Platypus, easy. The anger that comes with being born that ugly is a huge advantage in a fight.

Chris: Deep down, we all fight our reflection. Write that down. What made you decide to start doing comedy?

Lemmy: I have no idea. I keep a diary of “moments” from my comedy journey, but none of them go back before 2023. I’m guessing it has something to do with having four kids—I’m at least ten years behind everything.

Chris: That’s a long delay.

Lemmy: Yeah, I didn’t even know what a podcast was until 2020. Then lockdown slowed life down, and I finally had extra time. I discovered WTF with Marc Maron, Netflix, YouTube, Spotify—all at once.

Chris: That’s a dangerous combination.

Lemmy: It was. I started listening to a lot of stand-up. I know I was inspired by Gary Gulman’s In This Economy and Nate Bargatze’s The Standups and Tennessee Kid.

Chris: Alright, so you found comedy. What tips would you give new comics?

Lemmy: First, figure out what kind of comedy you want to do. Short jokes? Hard way to make a living, but that’s where a lot of new comics start, and many get stuck. If you’re doing long-form storytelling, make it personal and specific. If you’re doing topical stuff, tell jokes you wish other comedians were telling but aren’t.

Judd Apatow says in his Masterclass that you have to come up with your own angle, or why do it? Also, watch a lot of comedy—critically, analytically. Watch comics at open mics instead of standing outside waiting for your turn. You’ll see what works and what doesn’t.

Chris: Any go-to resources?

Lemmy: Listen to Nateland podcast, episode 74—skip the first hour. Nate shares a bit about his craft, and successful comedians don’t do that often. Also, find Gary Gulman’s 365 Days of Writing Tips from Twitter during COVID. Someone put them all on Reddit. I printed them and flip through them whenever my pen stops moving.

Chris: If you could go back in time, what tips would you give yourself?

Lemmy: Start with a true story that’s inherently funny and then write it funnier. The best first-time open mic’ers I’ve seen just got up and told a true funny story from memory. It’s a great platform.

Chris: What’s the worst you ever bombed?

Lemmy: Again, my first four times out were so bad I quit for nine months. The last couple times, it was going so poorly after 90 seconds, I literally yelled for the host to come save me. Didn’t even finish my five.

Chris: That’s brutal. 

Lemmy: It was. But quitting and coming back might have saved me.

Chris: What keeps you going?

Lemmy: I can’t stop writing.

Chris: What are your goals in comedy?

Lemmy: There’s nothing positive about starting stand-up in my mid-to-late 50s, especially as a bald man. But, if I had to turn a positive out of it, I’d say it’s that having no professional comedy goals—other than writing funnier jokes today than I wrote yesterday—is ironically the best way to get better.

Chris: Just head down, writing?

Lemmy: Exactly. Head down, write during the day, go out at night. I see so many young comedians worrying about making TikToks or getting on Kill Tony, and they don’t even have 20 tight minutes yet.

Getting on comedy festivals and paid shows is nice, but I don’t want to chase that at the expense of writing. Being funny on stage is the most fun thing in my life. That’s enough of a goal.

Chris: Who are your top comic influences?

Lemmy: Gulman, Burr, Kinane, Bargatze, Roy Wood Jr., Hicks.

Chris: *cough cough*

Lemmy: Also, Chris Phillips.

Chris: What’s the best or worst joke you’ve ever told?

Lemmy: Best? Probably my vasectomy story. It kills the hardest—it’s 3.5 minutes with a great finish.

Chris: And worst?

Lemmy: Too many competitors to pick just one.

Chris: What’s the coolest room you’ve performed in?

Lemmy: The Lyric. Packed little theater, unbelievable crowd. It was a five-minute guest spot. When I get depressed, I listen to the recording. It was killer.

Chris: Old Fashioned or a Mai Tai?

Lemmy: Old Fashioned. I used to be a bourbon guy. Before the pancreatitis.

Chris: How have you gotten better as a comic?

Lemmy: I used to be so uncomfortable on stage. First two years were just me trying to get over a lifelong, crippling fear of public speaking. Now I’m going back and redoing old jokes, realizing they didn’t bomb because they were bad—I was just so awkward that I made the audience uncomfortable.

Chris: So the writing wasn’t the issue?

Lemmy: Not always. I was too afraid to deliver them right. I’ve gotten better as a comic just by getting better as a performer.

Chris: How do you review your sets?

Lemmy: I record the audio of every set and listen to it the next day with my transcript in front of me. I make notes about what I screwed up, what worked, what didn’t.

Chris: What’s your writing process?

Lemmy: I get up, take an Adderall if I was able to score any, listen to a set from the night before, then go through each joke I’m working on and try to make them better.

Chris: Any weird rituals?

Lemmy: If I get stuck, I go do something almost—but not completely—mindless, like walking dogs, vacuuming, raking pine needles. That’s when creativity happens.

Chris: Where do babies come from?

Lemmy: My wife’s vagina. My kids, your kids, all babies. She’s been very busy.

Chris: Famous last words?

Lemmy: ​For newer comics in their first mics… One thing I never knew was that you had to find the host and introduce yourself (in Denver, I would say “genuflect.”) And related to that, just know that “the list is not the list.” Just because you wrote your name down fourth, doesn’t mean you’ll go fourth. 

One of the big problems I had early that almost caused me to quit was I kept getting “skipped.” Like, I’d be 10th on the sheet and wait 2.5 hours to get called, if at all. Not getting called was punishment for not introducing myself to the host. Getting called later was just because it’s the host’s right and responsibility to curate a good show, and until they know you and know you know what you’re doing, you will likely just have to wait. 

Once you’ve hit all the mics, pick the best one for each night and invest in them. Go to them regularly. The more the host sees you (and hopefully the more you do well), the better you will be treated by the host.

Chris: Thanks so much, Lemmy! Be sure to follow Lemmy on Instagram, and hey, while you’re over there, give me a follow as well.