Andrew Orvedahl and Adam Cayton-Holland to record comedy albums at the Bug Theatre

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Westword: You two have been doing a bit of touring in big comedy clubs lately; how does that compare with putting on your own show with Los Comicos at Orange Cat and now Grawlix? Cayton-Holland: Back when Greg [Baumhauer] was doing the Squire, that was the first time a friend was running an event, so we didn't have to respect the host, we could do whatever the fuck we wanted without getting in trouble. And ditto with the Orange Cat -- there was no one to disrespect, no comedy elders to worry about shitting on. It was a blank canvas to do whatever we wanted. And we were listening to more comedy, so we were getting better at comedy. Pretty soon it turned into this sold-out phenomenon. Orvedahl: There was total freedom. Sean [Rice] would give us the keys to the car, and it was like: Just don't burn the place down!

[Note: Orange Cat Studios closed after a fire.] Orvedahl: And there were several months where I was getting very despondent with comedy, and Los Comicos was like my anchor. I'd wait for those shows and it would swing me back up. I don't think I ever had a show where I wasn't really happy afterward, and it's the same today with Grawlix.

Cayton-Holland: And it was like the Too Much Fun vibe has today. Back then, that neighborhood was very different. There was no Meadowlark, there was no Casselman's. There was nothing up there; it was dangerous. But the space was very cool, so walking into that place you were like, "I feel like I'm in on a secret just being here." It was like a punk show -- there was no bar, it was like a our-parents-are-away/house-party! kind of vibe.

Orvedahl: When there's no one above you, there's no booker or anything, you can kind of just say whatever you want. You would think at Comedy Works the audience are pretty progressive, but I'll do a joke lightly making fun of Jesus, and people have walked out and complained. You would think a city-audience would be cool about that, but a lot of the time they aren't. But at Orange Cat I always felt like I could say anything. That crowd was my peer group.

Do you feel like Denver has comedy fans who are steeped in the craft -- like music fans often are -- and will hold your performances to a high standard?

Orvedahl: I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think that last Los Comicos show at Orange Cat helped make it okay to be a comedy fan in Denver -- the same way you would be a music fan. And it was younger people. I feel like a lot of older people come to Comedy Works and like their comfy seats, but at Los Comicos it was wilder and you could follow comics like you would a band.

Cayton-Holland: I feel like Los Comicos was aligned with a national shift of indie-comedy getting cooler, and the podcast revolution. And we were plugged in to that, and when we started doing it in Denver it was something different for the area.

Do you feel that the rise in popularity of Denver comedy is just reflective of a larger interest in comedy nationally? I mean, you guys are touring all the time, has it gotten any easier to make a living as a comic?

Cayton-Holland: Make a living? It's always hard to make a living as a comic. I do think comedy is cooler now than when we started. Which is fucking great, we're reaping the benefits of it. But when I started doing comedy, there was nothing cool about it. There was no "scene" to speak of.

Orvedahl: It was still all turtlenecks and suit-jackets.

Cayton-Holland: Very '80s, brick wall, cheesy image of standup comedy. Luckily it has shifted in something much cooler.

It seems that the alternative comedy revolution -- with its lower cover price, no two-drink minimums, and being hosted in rock venues instead of comedy clubs -- has made for better comics and better comedy. But if you want to make a living as a comic, you still have to play the corporate gigs, where your material has to fit through such a filter.

Orvedahl: Corporate gigs and college gigs pay the most, but in my opinion are the least fun types of shows. I'll be like "Ugh, this is SO not fun," but I'm making a giant sack of cash. And then the funnest shows are the ones where I'm making like ten dollars -- if that -- and it's freezing cold, everyone has to wear their jackets, and there's free beer in the cooler.

Cayton-Holland: We're gonna sound like old men, considering we've only been doing this eight years. . . . But that said, you have to be able to do both. I'm glad that comedy wasn't cool when I first started, because it instilled in me this work ethic where I'm only doing this because I love it. Now I think a lot of people are attracted to comedy because it's hip and they might get laid off it, because it's like the rock scene.

Orvedahl: I want to go on the record saying I've NEVER gotten laid from comedy.


Orvedahl: I don't want to brag... but yeah. I've never even had the opportunity.

Cayton-Holland: The point is that you have to be able to do both corporate gigs and indie-shows.

But that seems like a bit of a tight-rope walk: If you become financially dependent on those corporate gigs, it could kill the spark in you that creates great material. Cayton-Holland: Indeed. I think the goal is for those two sides of what you're doing to eventually, over time, align into coherent voice and you can be booked for a corporate or an indie show, and it's the same you. But for now I do tons of college gigs and it's like: Hey, here's your meat-and-potatoes, kids; this is not what I'm most excited about but here's what you'll like, I guarantee it. So you have to cater to them but, ideally, you get beyond that.

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Josiah M. Hesse
Contact: Josiah M. Hesse