Geoffrey Asmus’ standup career began at a fateful open mic night just after he graduated from the University of Wisconsin in 2013. Since then, the Minnesota native has moved to New York City and become a regular at the famed Comedy Cellar, opening for notable names like Mark Normand, Dave Attell and Sam Morril. Asmus caught the Weekly up on his unique approach to comedy ahead of his February 1 stop at Wiseguys at Town Square.
You joke about wasting $143,548 on college degrees just to get into standup. Does that academic background inform your comedy?
Absolutely, and definitely more so recently. I’ve been trying to add more history and religion jokes, which is what I studied in college. The goal of my comedy is to be smart and stupid all at once. I think there’s a thing where people try to dumb down their comedy for the masses, but I want crowds to be curious and intellectual—people who know who Genghis Khan is and want to hear a joke about that.
Will you incorporate Vegas history into your set here?
I’ll probably do a little research beforehand, because I don’t know that much. I don’t think it’s mobbed up anymore, and you’ve also got the Hoover Dam and Lake Mead nearby. When the water levels go down in the lake, don’t they find bodies the mob threw in there? I think that could be fun. Vegas actually probably has a more interesting history than most. A lot of American cities like to pat themselves on the back, but it’s usually fairly dull when you compare it to Middle Eastern history or something.
What does your writing process look like?
I just get high about three nights a week and write for like three hours. I don’t perform high that often, but I write pretty much exclusively high. Obviously, I think weed makes me very creative.
Your political jokes tend to toe a fine line where you can push boundaries without spilling over into preaching. How do you find that balance?
Sometimes, I play a character on stage where I’m pretending that I’m Republican, but I’m also kind of making fun of them at the same time. Some people think I’m a MAGA guy, which is crazy. But I think it’s kind of fun that they just don’t fully know what’s going on. I didn’t live in a bubble. My whole family is MAGA, pretty much. So, I know what they think and can become them in a way that’s a little more organic.
Some say we’re in a golden age of comedy. What are some of the pros and cons of coming up in this era?
There’s the most comedy ever, no doubt. It’s not always the highest quality, but you can find very good comedy if you know where to look. So, the con is that the algorithms kind of reward the dumbest, lowest common denominator stuff over quality. But the pro is that, where before you had to impress the booker at Johnny Carson or get a Comedy Central half-hour, now you can just do your own thing, put out a YouTube special where there are no parameters, and blow up. It’s a more democratic approach, which I think is a pretty cool part of modern comedy. I also think there’s a bubble right now. Because the economy at large is crashing, people are going to be a little more tight with who they spend money seeing. So, I do think in the next year or so you’re going to see a dilution, or sifting, of it.
Your crowdwork is also impressive. Is that something you’ve grown into?
When I first started, I almost never spoke to the crowd for probably the first three or four years. I was just trying to get through my s**t and trying not to puke while I was on stage. But it’s just like shooting three pointers, you just keep doing it and learn to trust yourself. If you just keep mining it, someone’s going to say something f**king stupid. I’m more comfortable than the audience is, so they’re going to slip up. It’s just gonna happen. We’re kind of in the driver’s seat as the comedian.
How does the NYC scene differ from the Midwest?
New York’s just so on top of you all the time. You’ve got to work, and you can’t really slide by anymore. There are 1,000 great comedians who are trying to get the same spots as you, and you have to be better than them. So, the competition is fierce, but it does make you better. I’ve gone up after Chris Rock or Ray Romano, and you’re like, “Okay, we can’t really f**k around anymore.” In the Midwest, I feel like I could f**k around a little bit.
You break an unwritten rule by laughing at your own jokes onstage in a way that I haven’t really seen other comics pull off. Has that always been part of your act?
I did that pretty much from the beginning. Because I didn’t have confidence at first, it was almost like I was faking it. But now it’s just a reflex. I don’t even really think about it. Some people don’t like when you laugh onstage, but I think if I’m not having fun, I don’t really know why the audience would.
GEOFFREY ASMUS February 1, 7 p.m., $30. Wiseguys, wiseguyscomedy.com.
