Photo Via Damon Millard - Facebook
Damon Millard
Damon Millard is at peace with wherever his comedy takes him.
“If I'm meant to be a big star comedian selling out arenas that's what I'll be,” he concedes. However, “If I'm meant to be held up in a Ted Kaczynski-style shack writing esoteric jokes that only three people in the whole world enjoy, then I'll do that.”
With clips from his current special, “Nothing to Nobody,” that have gone viral, Millard is far from The Unabomber of stand-up, But he acknowledges that building a following for his approach to humor is a more labor-intensive process than some comics.
“I'm not for everybody and it doesn't offend me if you don't connect with my stuff,” Millard shares. “Nothing,” he says, “was made for the others—for the ones who are lost with me. It's for my tribe. They are the ones to which I am not Nothing; they are the reason I keep doing this. I love my small, but ferocious fanbase.”
Taking Stock
What comprises his autobiography and how he takes stock of it is what drives the singular nature of his artistry.
In a lengthy email interview, Millard refers to the Upstate New York upbringing that made him “this little welfare boy from the trailer park.” That background provides the fodder for some uproarious poverty jokes. But his childhood coupled with more recent events have made Millard's comedy into a forum for bittersweet staring into existential voids, too.
“I found I am such a better comedian when I'm sober,” Millard assesses five years after a three-year addiction spiral following the release of his 2016 debut album, Shame, Pain & Love. “My timing, my control, all of it started getting better; it became easier.”
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Looking for Reasons?
What didn't become any easier with Millard's sobriety is figuring out his place in the universe and pondering the reason for humans' existence.
“I wrote the entire special to talk about feeling lost and empty and abandoned by God,” Millard says of the premise of ‘Nothing.’ “I'm not even saying I'm right; I'm just saying it's been my experience, and if you don't like it, you can turn it off and go watch Amy Schumer or whoever is doing whatever crap you're into.” If he seems proud and defensive as to his place in the comedy ecosystem, Millard's self-esteem and pugnaciousness are earned by experience, even as he goes deeper into existential darkness than most comics, who, as he points out, may be inclined to make a special out of “a long set of jokes not glued together in any way.”
Yet, this Alcoholics Anonymous alum who has embraced his higher power is enthusiastic enough about living to say, “I think life is amazing, I'm grateful for every day that I get to be alive.
“But I recognize a restlessness in all of us,” Millard continues “and I'm just hoping to connect to people through laughter about that uneasy feeling of ‘why.’ And because it was such a big undertaking,” he says of “Nothing” and its thematic throughline, “it made it worth it to try to make it funny. It's like a strongman competition ... ‘Hey do you think I can lift this?’”
Milwaukee Muscles
Millard's comedic muscles were strengthened in Milwaukee, the city where he made both “Shame” and “Nothing.” It's also where he was living in the 2010s when he had a part in nurturing the local comedy scene that is so currently fruitful.
“Me, and Jason Hillman, and Lara Beitz and a bunch of others laid the first bricks that eventually evolved into the modern Milwaukee comedy scene and sometimes we get credit for it and that feels good,” Millard recollects of his Caste of Killers stand-up collective in which he was integral about 15 years ago.
And though he says his current life in Brooklyn is “pretty darn good,” Millard still claims an identity as a Milwaukee comedian. And if anyone asks why, he has no trouble sharing why it's still what he claims as his comedy hometown.
“Milwaukee is one of the best comedy cities because the audiences are smart; they're a mix of left- and right-leaning people who understand that, in order to live in a happy society, you're going to have to mix with people who do not share your exact views. And because of these two things, you tend to get a fair crowd at your shows. They follow your intelligent jokes, and they don't groan at your darker, irreverent jokes either. It's the Goldilocks city of standup audiences and it's really a fun place to perform.”
Here Millard explains how cohabitation puts him on the bubble of homelessness and muses on the peculiar behavior of someone looking like he's in the same position...
