This week, we’re highlighting 24 talented writers and performers for Vulture’s annual list “The Comedians You Should and Will Know.†Our goal is to introduce a wider audience to the talent that has the comedy community and industry buzzing. (You can read more about our methodology at the link above.) We asked the comedians on the list to answer a series of questions about their work, performing, goals for the future, and more. Last but not least is Eagle Witt.
Tell us a story from your childhood that you think might explain why you ended up becoming a comedian.
Everyone kept telling me to do stand-up and calling me a comedian. At some point, I gave up on telling them they were wrong.
If you were immortalized as a cartoon character, what would your outfit be?
I think my outfit would be simple. I’d rock some sweats. I’m a comfort guy. I’m good-looking, so dressing up too much is overkill. I don’t understand what good-looking people who dress well are trying to prove. Your genetics are enough. Leave getting fly to the uglies.
What’s your proudest moment/achievement of your comedy career so far?
I have done a lot of dope stuff in my career, so for some reason what stands out is a really small moment. Chris Rock complimented my work. That did it. I got offstage. He let me know he enjoyed my set. I acted cool in the moment, and then I went outside to immediately call my mom.
Which comedian’s career trajectory would you most like to follow?
I would love to follow a Chappelle, Rock, or Burr career trajectory. I love stand-up so much. Stand-up is my passion and my heart. Those guys have done other stuff, but stand-up has been the very strong base for them. I like that. I like a good 90 percent stand-up and 10 percent stuff to supplement it and help get people to buy tickets and watch your specials.
Tell us everything about your worst show ever. (This can involve venue, audience, other acts on the lineup, anything!)
I did a show at a Jamaican restaurant where they would pay us in food. I had done it a few times, and it was always a somewhat impossible show. This particular night was so bad they gave us food and money because they felt bad about how rough the show was.
What have you learned about your own joke-writing process that you didn’t know when you started?
I learned to trust my ideas more. When I first started, I thought if a new idea I had bombed, it wasn’t funny. That’s actually not the case. I’m funny, therefore my thoughts are funny. It’s lazy to give up on ideas because they don’t work. If it doesn’t work, I’m not communicating it correctly. I have to go back and fix that if I care about the idea to the point I feel it’s worth the effort.
I have other stuff I have learned, but that’s my secret sauce. Mind ya business. If I told you, you would be on the 2025 “Comics You Should and Will Know†list.
What’s the biggest financial hurdle you’ve encountered since becoming a comedian?
Every second of the first three to four years of me doing stand-up was my biggest financial hurdle of becoming a comedian. Me and Usama Siddiquee used to get dollar slices in between open mics, and he would tell me to put hot sauce on the slices because it was almost like getting a pepperoni slice but didn’t cost pepperoni money. He was right. I used to go home every night and eat ramen with canned peas and tuna. (Sometimes corn.)
At the end of the movie 8 Mile, Eminem’s character, B-Rabbit, starts his final battle rap by dissing himself so the person he’s battling has nothing left to attack. How would you roast yourself so the other person would have nothing to say?
I would compliment myself. We should all practice self-love.
When it comes to your comedy opinions — about material, performing, audience, trends you want to kill/revive, the industry, etc. — what hill will you die on?
Social media is good for the business side of comedy but terrible for the art of comedy (specifically stand-up), and I’m not just talking about the crowdwork thing. I don’t believe material gets enough time to develop in this sprint era of comedy. “Quality over quantity†used to matter; bring that back. When it comes to audiences, I don’t think they have to change a thing. I think them being more sensitive will just make the best comedians smarter writers. I’m happy they’re more sensitive. It brings the best out of me. I can’t be lazy with my pen.
What is the best comedy advice, and then the worst comedy advice, you’ve ever received?
The best comedy advice I ever received … Well, I have a lot. My sister told me to try again when I quit three weeks into doing stand-up. Derek Gaines told me never play to the back of the room. A lot of comics try to make other comics laugh. Focus on the crowd. Sam Jay told me if my only source of income is stand-up, I won’t let myself take the type of risks I would take if it wasn’t my livelihood. When your whole livelihood is stand-up, there is a small voice in your subconscious saying If I bomb, I might not get booked again, so you take smaller risks. Roy Wood Jr. told me to keep the word “diabolical†in one of my jokes. It sounds simple, but he followed up by saying “Never stop letting them know just how messed-up they (white people) are. Words like that are cutting and sharp. Diabolical.†Von Decarlo told me to keep doing the style of stand-up I do and eventually the industry will come around. There’s probably a whole bunch I’m forgetting. My comedy OGs have always been good to me.
The worst comedy advice I have ever received is to not do comedy the way I do it.
More From This Series
- Emil Wakim’s Parents Finally Understand His Job Now
- Gianmarco Soresi Demands Inclusive Bullying in Comedy
- Veronika Slowikowska’s Got Magic to Do
- Rekha Shankar’s Life Mission? Laugh, Have Dumb Ideas.