One of the worst things about doing stand-up comedy for as long as I have is the social media feed. Every time something happens in the world of comedy, if there is such a thing, it’s a 600 comedian deluge of memes, opinions, bitterness and sanctimony. About 10% of it is hilarious, the rest devolves into the severe beatdown of a dead horse on the level of the NWO in 1999.
This week’s “here’s my unwarranted brain dump” is Matt Rife. He is a comic from Ohio that has exploded thanks to an ungodly amount of social media buzz from his short viral clips of crowd work and apparently, the slobbering fanaticism of soccer moms across the US. In 16 years of doing comedy, I have never seen so much buzz around a tour announcement from anyone other than maybe Dave Chappelle. Want to know more? Just log onto Facebook, I guarantee you will see one of his clips whether you are looking or not. If I knocked up my wife, I think his clips would show up on the sonogram.
Rather than lecture people on what is funny or what you should charge for tickets, I’ll go backwards first. I often was asked, “Are you doing comedy full time?” I usually offer up a short story about how comedy has been booked since I started and before, but here’s a longer one. My first paid show was offered to me as I was taking a piss at the local Funny Bone open mic by a local part time comic. I sold 38 tickets for him at $7-$10 each, did a 20 minute set at a bowling alley for $40. I didn’t exactly quit my day job. In fairness, I had no resume, no sound equipment and no idea how to run or book a show. Within three months of starting, I was now a “paid” comedian. Within three years, I had won three comedy contests at comedy clubs. I was also working for at least four “bookers”. In the comedy world, that means they are comics with the extra ambition to contact bars and theaters in small towns. They usually pay $150-$200 for the headliner, $100 for the feature (aka middle comic) and the host is usually some local guy with ten dad jokes and chronic alcoholism doing it free of charge. If you are lucky, they have a hotel room, sometimes not. I have been offered multiple gigs out of state with no hotel, for example and $100. They also hate each other from stealing one another’s rooms, so some will fire you if you commit the unforgiveable sin of taking a gig from another one. I was fired once because I worked a show with a comic a booker didn’t like.
If you are really lucky, you can get in with the clubs. That means you don’t have to travel, you can just be depressed and alone in a crappy condo or hotel during the day, but make more money. I tried out for a national chain of around 40 comedy clubs and passed. I got one week of work out of that for $600. The comics that worked the clubs for 20 years got filled up first, usually 26 weeks, then on down the chain. The other spots were usually filled with whomever the headliner liked and brought with them. I hit it off with J Medicine Hat and he used me to open for him several times, including in Virginia Beach, where the club loved me and wanted me back. The whole staff got fired a month later when they got caught having after hours parties in the club. I never got booked there again. J’s long time opener it turns out was on a year suspension for stealing food from the club – he was telling them he was ordering steak for himself and the headliner and taking it home. Once his suspension was up, he stepped right back in my spot and then J tragically passed away. I haven’t worked a full week at a club since.
In the early 90’s, there was a small explosion in comedy where every small town had a show. I had comics tell me they were full time comics six months after starting. Hosts were paid $100, features $250 and headliners $500. Comics sold up to 100 shirts a week after shows. Some were making $60,000 a year or more in the 90’s with 15 minutes of material. What happened? The internet and comedy specials on multiple channels stepped in. Why pay $25 to see a comic at a bar when you can watch 50 specials a month for $15 in your underwear. Plus there was an oversaturation, too many comics jumping in and low balling each other. They will do the show for $200? I will for $100. After-show sales dropped – how many black t-shirts with sexual innuendos does Frank from Plainsville need? Plus there’s more options on the internet and no one carries cash anymore. I sold $200 after a show once, I’ve never came close to that since.
At my peak, I did 17 shows in a month, 16 paid and one benefit show. I think I made $1600, not counting gas and travel time. It’s an absolute meat grinder. Add to that when I started I was told I HAD to be on MySpace. Then Facebook. Then Twitter. Then delete MySpace. Then Instagram…now Tik Tok and God knows what else. It’s mentally exhausting and I finally said hell with it. Also 90% of your online content will just be stolen anyways if it does take off. If you’re not pumping your brand online, then you are emailing clubs and bookers non-stop or you get passed by. I was even blogging five days a week, once I had kids? Nope. This is my first blog in six months.
All this isn’t a pity party for me, I’m actually old enough now to be glad to have my weekends back. I’m glad I’m not like I was in 2008-09 when I put 40,000 miles on my car in a year’s time. I’m glad I can watch football instead of being five hours on the highway hoping the snow doesn’t turn into ice. The point is, if someone blows up online and doesn’t have to run the gauntlet of BS of most comics have to, good for them. You can’t control what people like. Trust me, Taylor Swift would be singing in a county fair if everyone like the music I did. Instead, adults are wearing diapers to her concerts to not miss a song.
The internet has allowed comedians – or something like comedians – to reach people directly, the same way a lot of big music stars started on YouTube. I don’t really get it, but I’m not young. If you would have told me kids would watch other people play video games online, I would have had you put in a padded cell. When I was 13, I saw guys literally wrestle to see who could play next. Now there’s multi-millionaires filming themselves playing Fortnite or whatever. I could be mad about someone blowing up, but the first thing people want to know on a comedy resume is who you have worked with. In other words, “who better than you allowed you share a stage with them?” Half of comedy importance is based on someone else’s accomplishments anyways. People who aren’t stand up comics sell more tickets – example Will Ferrell. I’ve never seen him do stand up and I went to his comedy event in an arena a decade ago. He fake fought little people and walked off the stage, letting other do the stand-up. The place was full because his name was on the ticket. The internet on the flip side is a cesspool of angry trolls and people who nearly have mental breakdowns creating enough content to feed their fans. I hate filming myself, I can’t imagine shooting a clip daily. I would be in hell.
So my advice to any comics really upset by the ubiquitous nature of Rife clips probably appearing on the dark side of the moon as I type this? There’s nothing you can do about it and 98% of you would open for him in a nanosecond if he reached out. Also to the ones trying to cash in on the attention, it’s pathetic. I hosted the open mic at the Funny Bone when he started. I’m not jumping online to say “we worked together” or “I’ve known him from day one.” I may have a stroke if I see that post again. I’m not going be a sex symbol, I’m not going to film myself doing crowd work for three hours to get a 15 second killer clip and I’m not going to shave my body hair off, so I guess I can just deal with it. As a dad, I’ll save my anger for that Ryan kid being worth $30 million playing with toys on You Tube. I hate that little shit.