Recording an Album 7: The Early Prep

So I was smart:  I knew that I’d panic and put off preparing for my album recording, like I have always tended to do.  So I announced that I was recording an album 2 months in advance - and I did it very publicly, on Facebook.  

And so, quite predictably, I spent the next week or two panicking.  I didn’t do a thing to prepare, and I was sure that I would be unprepared and “fail” the recording, like an exam I didn’t study for.  

After a week or two of full-blow denial, I started to feel a little better.  I calmed down a little, and I started to think about all the premises and material I’d come up with since I moved here.

I think it was about a month after I announced - so with one month left before the recording - that I started putting a little work in.  I went through my notebooks and listened to old recordings, and wrote down every joke and premise I’d worked on.  I categorized them by how ready they were (or I at least made a half-assed attempt to).  And I tried to start writing out all of the jokes that I planned on using (again, this has been more of a half-assed attempt).

I was trying to do some one-hour run-throughs.  But those are tough to do, without an audience.  The first one I did, I think I started yawning a ton at about the 38-minute mark.  I was ready for a nap.  So it’s probably a good idea that I keep building up my stamina to perform.  

That’s the thing:  Most people who do this have something that comics call “road gigs.”  Or something that everyone calls “experience having done hour-long shows before.”  

When Louis does his hour specials, he’s had a chance to run through it, and perform it for people, as many times as he wants.  I don’t have that luxury.  I’m not a headlining comic.  And I don’t have a ton of sway here in New York.  So the only way I can run through an hour is by doing it myself, or in front of a couple friends.  (Admittedly, I could have set up one-man shows in places like DC or Philly or whatever...and believe me, I flirted with the idea.  But the logistics and timeline were just a little bit too intimidating.  So maybe I’ll do that before next year’s special)

That’s part of the reason I wanted to do this.  I love the model that Louis C.K. has set up for his fellow comics:  an hour a year.  That’s very reasonable.  But in this phase of my career - when I’m doing 2-minute sets every night, with no road work - it’s probably a little bit more of a challenge.  I’ve done a good job of being willing to bomb for the past year, in the name of finding more and more material.  But still...the conditions haven’t exactly been ideal.  

Then again - they’re never ideal.  At some point, you just gotta shut up and produce something.  So that’s what I’m doing.  I’ll make this special, and I’ll learn from it.  No matter what happens, I’ll be a much better comic for having done this.  

With two weeks left now, that’s at least helping me sleep a little at night.  ...a little.  It’s not going to be perfect.  But that’s okay.  These things are never perfect.

Recording an Album, 6: Finally - Happiness!

Well, I record my first album 2 weeks from today.  And I think I finally broke through to the other side.  I’m actually pretty excited for it.  Nervous still, yes.  Terrified still, yes.  But I’m also looking forward to it.  I’m excited to be stupid, and be funny, and to just have a good time with it, and not worry about how it turns out.

Don’t ask me to repeat that sentence in an hour, by the way.  But that’s how I feel right now.  And I’ve been feeling good about this whole thing a lot lately.

Sometimes I forget how easy it would have been to not do this at all.  I could have just kept plowing through, night to night, waiting for someone to tell me that it’s time for me to evolve.  Waiting for some Oz-like voice to tell me that it’s finally time for me to receive my brain, or my heart, or whatever I think I’m lacking.

But instead, I’m putting my money where my mouth is (or perhaps more accurately, I’m putting my friend Andrew’s money where my mouth is, since he convinced me to do this by offering to produce the shows and fund the project.  So maybe I’m not as ballsy as he is...but still pretty ballsy, I’d say).

This is going to be fun.  The venue is cool, the people that will come to support me will be cool, and we’ll all have a good time with it.  No matter what, on June 10th, I’m going to be proud that I did this.  So...good.

Don’t let my smooshed-up face fool you -- I’m starting to get really excited for these shows.  I’m going to have a blast with them.  Whatever they are, I’m going to own them.  I can’t wait to see where we are.

How to Have Good Things Happen to You. (Do Them Yourself)

Time is weird.  I was getting really annoyed with how hot it was yesterday.  And I had a thought like “Why is it this hot already!?” -- like, why am I sweating in my jeans when it’s still winter?

Then I realized I’d forgotten to update my brain’s “The Month It Feels Like” app.  And so somehow, it’s just kind of felt like February for the past 3 months.

Well, it’s not February anymore.  We’re a week from June.

June, I said.  As in, the 6th month of the year.  As in, the year is almost half over.  This year - the one that just started - is roughly half gone.

It’s tempting to feel like I haven’t accomplished anything this year.  But honestly, I don’t think that’s true. I’ve written some blogs.  I’ve done a lot of open-mics.  I’ve done a few really fun shows.  I worked my butt off prepping for my Montreal audition, and I was thrilled with how it went.  I’ve been willing to bomb a lot of times, and as a result, I’ve come up with a lot of material.

And probably most notably, I agreed to perform the material I’ve written this past year - and to record the shows - at the Under St. Marks Theater, here in New York, on June 8-9.

But there’s more than that.

In addition to the stand-up that I’m doing here in New York, I’m starting to get involved in other stuff.  I’ve started writing sketches.  I’ve been working through my fears and inhibitions about writing a book.  I’ve been doing podcasts with people.

And I’ve started being a regular guest on a radio show.  It’s an internet radio show, and it’s hosted by Lawson Leong, a fellow comic here in NYC.  I was supposed to be a one-time guest, but when I came on, we had a blast.  So he had me back.  And I just finished up my third visit.  And I’ll be on again next Wednesday, May 30th.

Like I said, it’s an internet radio show.  So it’s not the type of sexy “break” that people imagine, when they dream of “making it” in New York.

But honestly, it might be better.  Because it’s the best type of New York story:  Lawson’s a young dude - 22, I think - and he lives with his family, in Brooklyn.  He’s been doing comedy for a few years, and he really wanted something cool to happen.  But on some random day, he just kind of realized, “Wait a second.  I don’t need to wait for permission do something cool.”

This may be a statue of Lawson, not actually him.  But you get the idea.

He liked Opie and Anthony growing up, and he loved when comics would come on and be willing to discuss controversial topics.  And he loved doing the same thing himself.  So he googled some shit (I’m guessing here), signed up for an account on blogtalkradio.com, and just started to figure it out as he went.  And humbly, in front of a crowd of no one, “Human Sacrifice Radio” was born.

Maybe it didn’t feel that cool to him.  But all of a sudden - to people that aren’t him, like me - it does seem pretty damn cool.  He has a radio show.  He does 3 a week.  He talks shit out, he rants, he laughs.  He’s doing something.  Producing something.

I’ve probably had a good time as a guest because our life philosophies overlap so much.  We both want to understand things.  We love getting past the knee-jerk reactions we have toward things, and really trying to dissect stuff.

I have no idea how many people listen to it.  Maybe 500.  Or maybe it’s just my mom (she’s already commented on my first two shows - she really enjoyed our 45-minute discussion about when sex with 15 year-olds is morally okay).

But I’m not really worried about getting famous off Lawson’s show.  It’s just awesome that I’ve found something fun and cool to be a part of.  And that I’ve crossed paths with someone who has both a desire to do cool things, and is willing to just shut up and do something, without worrying how it will make them look.

That’s what almost all “cool things” are, by the way:  they’re things that are only cool to the people on the outside.  If you - you, the person reading right now - were to start something...I can almost guarantee it won’t seem cool to you.  If you start a blog, or you write a web series, start an internet radio show - it’s not going to be sexy.  It’s not going to be “cool.”

To you, it won’t.  But that’s because we’re taught that cool things should just be cool.  Cool things shouldn’t require lots of work.  Cool things shouldn’t be a struggle.  Cool things shouldn’t not-be-fun sometimes.  Cool shouldn’t have to try.  Cool things should just be...cool. 


Well, they’re not.  Cool things are lame.  It would have been easy for Lawson to be like “An internet radio show?  That’s not cool - you don’t even need permission to do that.  Anyone can do it.  People would laugh at me.  Forget it.”  But instead, he got over his stupid pride - which was creating stupid fears - and just decided to do what he wanted to.  So now he has his own radio show.  And I get to be on it with him sometimes.

I think that’s pretty damn cool.

Today’s episode starts with us trying to responsibly discuss the merits of marijuana laws, before we fall off the tracks and end up defending children who are racist.  Here it is:

Listen to internet radio with Lawsoncomic89 on Blog Talk Radio

And if you enjoy that, you can check out the first two episodes I was on:

Monday, May 14:  We discuss how great it is to be white, whether Carlin and Pryor were overrated, and I jerk off to the thought of Patrice O’Neal.

Wednesday, May 16:  We debate whether it’s morally that big a deal to have sex with a 15 year-old.  Lawson’s 18 year-old sister co-hosts.  (Seriously)

For the Record...

Having a blog is hard!  You have to keep, like, updating it and stuff.  Uggh!

You’re welcome for this one.

Love,
Bryson

Another Night at the Office

I did 3 sets last night. The first was an open-mic in midtown Manhattan.  The second was on “Short Bus,” a nice booked show at The Creek and the Cave.  And the third was back in Manhattan - a late-night, 2-minutes-each mic at a mostly-improv venue called The Pit.

To get from the first to the second, I took the 7-train, which heads east from Grand Central Station, underwater, and into Queens.  Walking there, I looked up, and saw this:

And something about the view, and the moment, just kind of hit me.  So I resisted the urge to be the New Yorker that’s “too cool to give a shit,” and I stopped, and I took that picture.

I too often forget how cool my life is.  I mean, I definitely get stressed out.  I definitely worry about what I’m doing with my life.  But at the end of the day, my life is pretty damn cool.
_______________________

I got an e-mail last week from one of my college roommates (I had a different one every year, because I was a nightmare to live with back then.  I never learned how to do my own laundry growing up, so my freshman year, when my gym socks got too disgusting to wear, I hid them in a drawer in my dorm room, like they were a dead body or something.  They stayed there for weeks, maybe months, and they called to me, like a smellier, gamier version of The Tell-Tale Heart.  God, I was a monster back then).

Anyway, me and this dude were good buddies in college, except for the year we lived together.  But he moved to Russia after we graduated, and we hadn’t caught up for years.

He didn’t mean to, but by asking for an update, he forced me to zoom out and look at the big picture of my life.

And honestly, my adult life is pretty much exactly what I’d hoped it would be.  I’m living in New York City, pursuing stand-up, and trying to meet cool people and connect with them.

Sometimes I forget to soak my life in.  I fall into the same traps that I think most people do:  I worry too much about how my week is going, not how my life is going.  I worry too much about how other people feel about me, and not how I actually feel.  I worry about whether or not I’m “making it,” or whether or not I’m “succeeding,” instead of thinking about what those words even mean.

So to my old roommate Todd - and to anyone else who is curious:  don’t be too worried about the daily highs and lows of my blog posts.  Yes, my life is filled with good days and bad days, just like everyone else.

But if you want to know how my life is going, look at the picture above.  For me - and my life right now - that’s just another night at the office.

I put on a shirt for this photo, Todd. You’re welcome.

Mondays

I started my last post with a sentence that was something like “I’m a pretty lucky person.”

That post quickly became about something philosophical, relating to fears and stuff.

There’s nothing wrong with that, really - but it wasn’t what I intended when I started the post.

I was going to say that I was lucky, because I’d gotten to date someone for a few years, and we had a lot in common.  We got along well, and we have similar life philosophies.

Specifically, we both had the same attitude toward Mondays.  We thought it was weird that we’re taught to hate Mondays.  Monday, to us, represented a new beginning.  A re-birth.  A chance to do things right.

That ex was in town this past week, and it was great to have her around.  We still get along well, even though we broke up last fall.  We both still subscribe to the idea of Monday as an exciting day.

Today is Monday.  For me, it’s a chance to start a new week.  Every moment is its own new moment, of course.  So it would be nice if I didn’t need an artificial marker to start doing anything.  And there’s probably a long-term danger to treating every Monday like it’s New Years.

But oh well.  I’m looking for strategies that work.  And when I’ve been struggling, I can do worse things than look into my past, and figure out what has worked for me before.

In the past, I’ve been productive when I’ve created a weekly list of goals, and awarded myself points for each thing I actually get done.  In the past, I’ve given up or limited certain things that distract me, like watching sports or playing video games.  In the past, I’ve felt better and been more productive when I’ve made my physical body a priority, by doing things like working out consistently and flossing every day.  I do better when my environment is in order, so when I keep my apartment clean and feel good about where I live.

So those are the things I’m going to go back to, this week.  I’m going to create a points-based system, to keep track of what I accomplish this week.  It’s going to include time devoted to cleaning my apartment.  It’s going to include points awarded for flossing, eating healthily, and for working out.  It’s going to include points for the limited use of video games or time spent on ESPN.com.  And it’s also going to reward points for positive things I do, whether they be things that better myself individually, or things relating to my shows in June.

Sadly, this is not doctored

We’ll see how this week goes.  I don’t know, of course.  But it’s Monday.  And that gives me reason to be optimistic.

Recording an Album, 5: Why I Matter

In many ways, I’m a lucky person.  There are the easy and obvious reasons - I’m a white male, which is a helluva good start, at least in this culture.  But there are a lot of other reasons, too.

I try to get along with people, and I try to live my life passionately.  I try to allow myself to experience a full range of emotions, and - probably more uniquely - I try to be willing to show them.  I try to embrace emotions.  I’m not totally sure why.  I’ve definitely taken more after my mother in that regard, as opposed to my father.  My father is a stoic dude.  My mother tends to wear her heart on her sleeve.  I lean toward the latter strategy in life.

That means a couple of things.  It means that when I’m happy, I think the people around me can tell.  Which may very well be a nice thing for them - I’m not totally sure, because I’m me, not them.  But it seems like when I’m happy, sometimes I’m able to add to other people’s day, even if it’s only in some small way.

There’s a trade-off to that, though.  I show my emotions.  I experience my emotions fully (or at least I try to).  But that means that when I’m sad, I let myself be sad.  When I’m scared, I let myself be scared.  And I show that to people, in the same way I show my happiness.  I share my emotions with people, which has the potential to impact people in both a positive and a negative way.

Really, those are some of the main decisions we make, throughout our lives.  Who do we open ourselves to, and who do we offer ourselves to.

Two different questions.  I think most of us spend time thinking about who we are going to open ourselves to.  As in, “do I trust Brad enough to really care what he thinks?  So that if he said something hurtful toward me, it would crush me?  Is his opinion worth enough - and do I think he understands the power his words would have - that I’m willing to open myself up to that risk?”

I think we spend a lot less time thinking about who we’re willing to extend that to.  We think a lot about who impacts us; we don’t think nearly as much about who we impact.

That’s part of the reason I think of myself as lucky, I think.  Because I feel like for whatever reason, a lot of people allow me to impact them.  A lot of people have decided to at least be minutely invested in how I’m feeling, and how I feel about them.

This could be an entirely imagined thing.  I could be completely delusional.  And certainly, I think we are all a little bit delusional, when it comes to how important we think we are.  I mean, my entire life, every single room I’ve ever walked into, I’ve been in there.  Every single one!  Can anyone else say that?  No.  No, they can’t.  So I must be, like, the most important person ever!

We kind of have to think we’re more important than we are, or else we’d lose our minds.  With the world over-populated as it is, it’s kind of a dick move for each of us not to kill ourselves.  I mean, we’re not Einstein.  And even if we were Einstein, we’d probably just end up accidentally inventing the atomic bomb, or something crazy like that.  So really, all of us should just realize we’re no good for each other and go jump in front of the nearest bus.  It’s the polite thing to do, really.

But we don’t.  Because all of us are a little bit delusional.  We all think we matter.  And to make sure we keep thinking so, we convince ourselves that a few other people matter, too.

So maybe that’s where I come in, for other people.  I’m lucky, because for some reason, I’m able to make people feel like we both have something in common.  Male, female, straight, gay, trans, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Indian, Asian, healthy, sick, wealthy, poor, free, imprisoned - I’m spending my adult life trying to help people understand that there’s some overlap to all of us.

Often times, I try to use myself as the Rosetta Stone - I may not be what you are, but you and I are still the same.  We are still connected.  And in a perfect world, if I can make enough individuals feel that way, then people can see each other as equals that otherwise wouldn’t have.  Through me.  And if I can do that, then I prove my importance.

So maybe that’s what people see in me.  They see a desire to matter.  They see a need to be delusional. And maybe they see an admittance that I’m delusional - a lack of shame in it.  I know at the end of the day, the world doesn’t need me.  But if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pretend it does, so that I can get some shit done.

I think we all want to get some shit done.  I have friends that are able to just shut up and get to work, and I admire them.  My older brother is that way.  He’s a worker.  He shuts up and gets things done.  He goes to work every day.  He does a good and honest job.  He likes working on his cars.  He fixes them, or he works around the house.  He does things.

I know others who can’t seem to get out of their own way.  They can’t seem to deal with the fact that they don’t matter.  So they go through life feeling shitty.  Because they want to do something great.  But on some level, they also know that no matter what they do, it’ll be a drop in the bucket.  And that’s best-case.  Truth is, most of us will live our whole lives to make a drop, and it’s going to miss the bucket.

Or, as a great philosopher once said:  Life’s a bitch.

So what helps us do our best, even though it won’t matter?  Again:  delusion.  We just have to live our lives as if we matter.

That’s what I’m trying to do:  to live my life as if I matter.  But that’s a tough thing to do, because if I matter, then it means that if I fail, then that matters.

So that’s why I think I’ve been struggling so much, as I try to get my thoughts together, and prepare for these shows in June.  Because I’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself, because I want to matter.  And part of the reason I want to matter is because I feel like there are people who I matter to.  And I matter to them, because they see an overlap between themselves and me.  So if I fail, and I don’t matter...then I’m forcing the people who are invested in me to face the reality that they don’t matter.

Wow.  What a weird, warped sense of reality I’ve presented to myself.  If I don’t matter, then it’s proof no one who has ever cared about me matters?

Ha.  Delusion indeed.

Even if I never record these shows, this has been a great experience for me.  I’m being forced to face my fears, and I’m learning about myself in ways I never thought I would.  It’d be nice if I wasn’t so in my head all the time.  But it is what it is.  Better to have it documented.  Sigh.