It's Just A Joke: Lucas Molandes
Making comics make with the funny
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It's Just A Joke puts local and touring comedians on the spot and gives them one shot at making us laugh. In this edition, Lucas Molandes, whose quick-witted, sardonic patter has made him a favorite of the self-loathing indie-rock crowd, gives us a preview of his headlining shows at The Velveeta Room.
The A.V. Club: You seem like the kind of comic who’s constantly working on his material. Is that the case?
Lucas Molandes: Yeah, especially for this headlining gig. For the past two months solid I’ve been trying to develop a completely new set. I didn’t throw away my old jokes, but I just sort of pushed them to the side—cleared the desk off, so to speak. It happened in October. I came up with the first joke and then it spiraled into a whole set.
AVC: To the observer, at least, it seems like you don’t really have “bits,” but rather just one long stream of consciousness. Is that reflective of your writing process?
LM: Yeah. And my job helps me out, because I don’t do anything with my mind. I just lift boxes all day, because I work in a retail place. The whole day my head spits these ideas out, and by the time I get on stage that night, it’s been fine-tuned into the basic idea of what I wanted to say, and I’ve cut away all the fluff. It’s not “bits,” and it is sort of stream of consciousness, but actually it’s more like an outline. I know the general topics I want to talk about, and I know what it is I’m trying to say, and sometimes it comes out horrible, and sometimes it comes out really well.
AVC: Do you use any sort of mnemonic device to remember how it’s supposed to flow?
LM: Recently what’s helped me to remember things is to not drink as much. I do have bad short-term memory. I don’t know why. I probably did too much DXM at some point in my life.
AVC: You mean the rapper?
LM: Um... Yes. But yeah, I can’t remember why I have trouble remembering things. I think it used to be stage fright. I used to go up with a bullet-point set list, and then I would fill out the rest of it with just talking. Let’s say I had a joke about codependency: I’d just write the word “codependency” on a piece of paper so I wouldn’t forget that I was going to talk about it. I never really forget bits and pieces of it; I’d just forget the whole thing in general.
AVC: Do you usually start with broad topics like that and then figure out what’s funny about it?
LM: Well, codependency, that’s something that struck my fancy because it’s something I’ve had to come to terms with. Like, I don’t have problems with drinking, but some people in my family do. I don’t really have an addictive personality, but I did have a weird relationship—like, my bank account was into negative money because I was always trying to hang out with this person—and I had to step back. The least I could do was write a joke about it and redeem myself somewhat. Pretty much anything I talk about is something I’ve seen firsthand. I try to have a certain amount of honesty, because I’m not a good actor. I can’t fake caring about something unless I actually do.
AVC: Does that make it difficult to sell your act to people who aren’t already predisposed to liking you?
LM: I think early on it did, but these days I feel like I’m different. I went to New Jersey and developed a sort of creative independence, because I stepped away from comedy for about six months and I just wrote. And since I got back in the fall and started doing comedy again, I don’t really worry about the crowd liking me anymore. Which I know is the goal, but I’m just happy to be on stage. I get on stage and I’ve won already. That’s me winning. The rest is just icing. If they laugh or don’t laugh, whatever. I’m just happy to be in front of people and to have something to do with my life other than lifting boxes.
AVC: Fair enough. What joke do you have for us?
LM: I hope you haven’t heard this before. How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?
AVC: How many?
LM: What? You haven’t heard this joke?
AVC: No.
LM: [Pauses.] Yeah, you really should have heard this. I heard it when it first came out.
AVC: Oh really? Where was I supposed to hear it?
LM: Oh, you know… This place that closed down.
AVC: Well, what’s so great about the joke anyway?
LM: It only made like three limited vinyl releases, and it was that clear vinyl. And it had a picture of CBGB’s on it.
AVC: Actually, this just sounds really derivative of a joke I’ve already heard.
LM: Nah. I mean, there’s a joke in Canada that’s kinda like it. From Montreal. But that’s just parallel thinking. You know how sometimes things cross over, like how The Beatles and The Rolling Stones were contemporaries.
AVC: Oh… You like The Beatles. Wow.
LM: Well, no. I mean, I’m familiar with them. My parents had their albums. You know, they were forced on me when I was like two or three... [Laughs.] Damn, this is turning into a modern version of “The Aristocrats.”
Lucas Molandes: Yeah, especially for this headlining gig. For the past two months solid I’ve been trying to develop a completely new set. I didn’t throw away my old jokes, but I just sort of pushed them to the side—cleared the desk off, so to speak. It happened in October. I came up with the first joke and then it spiraled into a whole set.
AVC: To the observer, at least, it seems like you don’t really have “bits,” but rather just one long stream of consciousness. Is that reflective of your writing process?
LM: Yeah. And my job helps me out, because I don’t do anything with my mind. I just lift boxes all day, because I work in a retail place. The whole day my head spits these ideas out, and by the time I get on stage that night, it’s been fine-tuned into the basic idea of what I wanted to say, and I’ve cut away all the fluff. It’s not “bits,” and it is sort of stream of consciousness, but actually it’s more like an outline. I know the general topics I want to talk about, and I know what it is I’m trying to say, and sometimes it comes out horrible, and sometimes it comes out really well.
AVC: Do you use any sort of mnemonic device to remember how it’s supposed to flow?
LM: Recently what’s helped me to remember things is to not drink as much. I do have bad short-term memory. I don’t know why. I probably did too much DXM at some point in my life.
AVC: You mean the rapper?
LM: Um... Yes. But yeah, I can’t remember why I have trouble remembering things. I think it used to be stage fright. I used to go up with a bullet-point set list, and then I would fill out the rest of it with just talking. Let’s say I had a joke about codependency: I’d just write the word “codependency” on a piece of paper so I wouldn’t forget that I was going to talk about it. I never really forget bits and pieces of it; I’d just forget the whole thing in general.
AVC: Do you usually start with broad topics like that and then figure out what’s funny about it?
LM: Well, codependency, that’s something that struck my fancy because it’s something I’ve had to come to terms with. Like, I don’t have problems with drinking, but some people in my family do. I don’t really have an addictive personality, but I did have a weird relationship—like, my bank account was into negative money because I was always trying to hang out with this person—and I had to step back. The least I could do was write a joke about it and redeem myself somewhat. Pretty much anything I talk about is something I’ve seen firsthand. I try to have a certain amount of honesty, because I’m not a good actor. I can’t fake caring about something unless I actually do.
AVC: Does that make it difficult to sell your act to people who aren’t already predisposed to liking you?
LM: I think early on it did, but these days I feel like I’m different. I went to New Jersey and developed a sort of creative independence, because I stepped away from comedy for about six months and I just wrote. And since I got back in the fall and started doing comedy again, I don’t really worry about the crowd liking me anymore. Which I know is the goal, but I’m just happy to be on stage. I get on stage and I’ve won already. That’s me winning. The rest is just icing. If they laugh or don’t laugh, whatever. I’m just happy to be in front of people and to have something to do with my life other than lifting boxes.
AVC: Fair enough. What joke do you have for us?
LM: I hope you haven’t heard this before. How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?
AVC: How many?
LM: What? You haven’t heard this joke?
AVC: No.
LM: [Pauses.] Yeah, you really should have heard this. I heard it when it first came out.
AVC: Oh really? Where was I supposed to hear it?
LM: Oh, you know… This place that closed down.
AVC: Well, what’s so great about the joke anyway?
LM: It only made like three limited vinyl releases, and it was that clear vinyl. And it had a picture of CBGB’s on it.
AVC: Actually, this just sounds really derivative of a joke I’ve already heard.
LM: Nah. I mean, there’s a joke in Canada that’s kinda like it. From Montreal. But that’s just parallel thinking. You know how sometimes things cross over, like how The Beatles and The Rolling Stones were contemporaries.
AVC: Oh… You like The Beatles. Wow.
LM: Well, no. I mean, I’m familiar with them. My parents had their albums. You know, they were forced on me when I was like two or three... [Laughs.] Damn, this is turning into a modern version of “The Aristocrats.”
