Don't Call Me a Comedian

I am a musician, although I scoff at myself under my breath anytime I tell someone that. I can't read music, and though I did take guitar lessons in my teens, I'm definitely not what you would call "trained" in any sense. But I've worked hard for over twenty years in music, and I've managed to carve out a comfortable and somewhat unique niche for myself and my band The Thermals, in the world of music business and what some people hopefully refer to as "art".

I think music, even what I do with music, is art. I have always thought of comedy, and especially stand up, as a high art. I have always been in awe of stand up, and those who make it look natural and effortless. When The Thermals in 2002 signed to Sub Pop, home to most of my favorite bands in high school, I was most excited to meet comedian David Cross, who had also just signed with the label. In just our first few years of being a band we shared a stage with some amazing comedians - Cross, Jon Benjamin, Todd Barry, Heather Lawless, Eugene Mirman, and Demetri Martin, just to name a few. We opened for some amazing bands as well, but I was always more excited about doing shows with comedians. Comedy was mysterious and magical to me, and I feel like I learned a lot by watching great comedians work.

For years I wanted to try stand up. I would write, I would lurk many open mics, but I was scared to do it. The comedy scene in Portland is intimate and can be intimidating, but has been vibrant and busy for awhile. It was early in 2013 when I really started going to local shows regularly, seeing stellar comedians like Shane Torres, Veronica Heath, Barbara Holm, Amy Miller, and Ian Karmel, not long before he moved to LA. I would watch mics at the Boiler Room and Brody Theater with Jeremy Laden, my best friend since high school, who was also keen to break into the world of stand up. Jeremy got up on stage long before me - he actually did stand up in the quad of Prospect High (Saratoga, CA) in 1992. He killed! He got up at the Brody one night in 2013, and it was so exciting just to see him onstage again. But it would be another whole year before I got up.

Finally, on a Friday night in the fall of 2014, I tried it. My friend, comedian Andie Main told me about an open mic at a moose lodge right by my house in Southeast Portland. I had no excuse not to go! I was nervous but i was excited. I didn't write anything down, I couldn't even think about doing it, I just had to go do it. It went well! I talked about orgasmic birth and checking out guys' balls at the gym. It was stupid, obviously. I was ok. It was a blur. When I got offstage I did Jello shots with Andie and Caitlin Weierhauser, another one of Portland's best up-and-coming comics. I was thrilled. I hit three more mics the following Sunday at Kelly's Olympian, Curious Comedy, and Alberta Street Pub. I haven't stopped since, and I don't plan it.

I feel that music and comedy are similar in many ways: rhythm and timing are incredibly important to both. Performance is key to both, as is sharing something about your self, if you want to truly connect with an audience. Most importantly, both are powerful drugs, and once you are hooked you are hooked.

I love music, and I love comedy. I'm hooked. Just don't call me a comedian. Or uh, a musician.