I’m a week into my return to Los Angeles.

It’s monsoon-level of raining today. Kinda perfect for sitting here with my coffee and pumping some thoughts out. Angelenos are pussies in the rain. “It’s the oil slicks” I used to chime in when living here — it’s actually the assholes driving Tesla Cybertrucks that make the roads unsafe in the rain and I stand by that. (If you drive a Cybertruck, apologies… however I highly doubt any of my readers do).

I feel like I’m partially on retreat, and partially dipping my toe back into the scene I came up in and testing the water temp. It’s a litttttle chilly in that pool…

Something has fundamentally shifted in the comedy ecosystem, and artistry in LA as a whole. And it’s unfortunately not in favor of talent. Comedy clubs are struggling. Veterans can’t sell tickets like they used to. Comedians aren’t hanging out at the clubs we all used to have run-ins at. There’s something amiss.

Let’s get into it.

Over the past week, I've been catching it up with comedians I've known for 14+ years. People who've put in the work, built real audiences, headlined clubs across the country and are regulars at the “Big 3” clubs in Hollywood. The conversations keep circling back to the same thing: morale is low and something broke.

The most legendary clubs here (specifically THE most legendary one) have fundamentally changed post-Austin exodus. Comedians who used to rely on regular spots have seen their steady income drop to maybe 10% of what it was. And it's not just LA. I'm hearing the same murmurs from London, New York, major club chains across the US. Clubs are down across the board.

But here's the weird part: comedy has never been more "popular." Clips are everywhere. Follower counts are growing rapidly with crowdwork clips or content as a whole. Certain shows that rhyme with Shrill Baloney are making instant celebrities out of open micers.

So why are veteran comics struggling to fill rooms and get the stage time they've earned? Meanwhile, someone with 500K TikTok followers from a single viral minute can book a theater, but can't hold an audience for an hour?

The answer is uncomfortable: we've entered an era where virality has replaced craft, and the algorithm has decided it knows what's funny better than decades of stage time does.

This isn't just about comedy. It's about what happens when shortcuts start looking like the real thing, and what that means for literally everyone, including audiences.

The Hustle

So how did we get here?

The comedy ladder used to be pretty straightforward. Open mics, bringer shows, paid spots, hosting, featuring, headlining. It took years. You bombed, you learned, you got better. You built an audience one person at a time, one city at a time. You slept on floors in strangers’ houses and woke up surrounded by guns and deer heads — just me? So glad I’m still alive…

The clubs knew that if you could headline, you could actually hold a room for an hour and make people laugh consistently. Those clubs trusted you to deliver, bookers watched your shows, and the venues themselves put effort into promoting your weekends so you’d have a great show and so would they.

Then social media changed the game. First it was a tool — a way to promote shows, share clips, build your brand alongside your stage work. Reaching strangers at a rapid rate? AWESOME. But, then it became the product itself.

Clipping culture turned comedy into a highlights reel. A killer 60-second crowd work bit can get millions of views, and suddenly that comedian has more followers than someone who's been touring for a decade. The algorithm rewards the viral moment, not the full set. Not the craft of building and releasing tension over an hour. Not the skill of reading a room and adjusting in real time.

Here's where it gets messy: clubs and promoters started chasing those follower counts. Why book a veteran who can maybe sell 200 tickets when you can book someone with 500K followers and sell out five shows? On paper, it looks like a no-brainer. Except those followers don't always translate to ticket sales, and when they do, the show doesn't deliver.

You simply can't sustain an hour of headlining material when you've been doing comedy for six months.

Enter the lottery system shows — you know the ones. A certain popular podcast format that pulls random people from a bucket, gives them 60 seconds, and either crowns them an instant star or destroys them for entertainment. Sometimes literally making fun of people with disabilities. Sometimes ruining potential careers overnight for views.

It's created a generation of "comedians" who've never done the work but have the follower counts. And it's left veterans who built this industry struggling to get stage time at the clubs they helped build.

We’ve come to an era of booking based on who'll bring buzz, not who'll bring skill. And when the shows don't deliver? The clubs suffer. The audiences get jaded. People don’t come back. Club sales go down across the board, and the comedians who could actually give them a great hour are watching from the sidelines.

So, how do we un-bench the MVPs…

The Chill

Here's the thing about shortcuts: they work until they don't.

The bubble will burst. It always does. We saw it with podcast fame, YouTube stars, reality stars, Instagram influencers who couldn't translate followers into actual careers — does Hawk Tuah come to mind? 

The algorithm giveth, and the algorithm taketh away.

Here's what doesn't disappear: the ability to walk into any room, anywhere, and make people laugh for an hour straight. Make them have a memorable experience. That's not a skill you can hack. That's stage time. That's bombing and editing. That's years of figuring out timing, pacing, how to recover when a bit dies, how to read energy and adjust.

The AI parallel is perfect here. AI can generate content that looks like entertainment — it can even get massive engagement. But it can't replace the human experience that makes a great hour of standup resonate, or an actor pop off screen because they’re drawing from human experience.

Just like some viral comics can create moments but can't sustain connection, the algorithm optimizes for engagement, not quality or longevity.

So what do we do? We double down on craft. We support the venues and bookers who still value skill over follower counts. We show up for veteran comics. We educate audiences on the difference between a viral clip and an actual hour of comedy.

And we wait. Because the people still standing in five years will be the ones who did the work.

Look, there IS a healthy balance between gaining skill, moving through the ranks properly, and utilizing socials as a tool to reach new people while doing things the right way, as in, the way it should be done for long term success for everyone involved.

The uncomfortable truth is some people will get rich quick and disappear. Some will mistake virality for talent. But the foundation of this industry — the clubs, the audiences who actually appreciate craft, the comedians who put in the years — we're not going anywhere.

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Upcoming Shows

TICKETS UP!

Thursday November 6th: Mobile, Alabama at The Crescent Theater 7pm

Friday November 7th: New Orleans, Louisiana at The Howlin’ Wolf 8pm

I’m scouting openers for the dates above, feel free to pass along.

Tickets for Hattiesburg, MS are coming next, followed by Utah, Idaho, Colorado, Alaska and more... I’m hitting some cities I’ve never been to before so help me spread the word.

Love you all and cheers to the hustle + chill. We shall beat the algorithm.

xx NPH