Rafe Williams—stand-up comedian, improv player, improv teacher and coach—has made a name for himself over the past few years as one of St. Louis’ biggest comedians to watch. In 2017, The Riverfront Times recognized him as the Funniest Person in St. Louis. Williams has also been involved with various podcasts and projects including some work on StL Up Late, a late-night sketch comedy show on KMOV. He has built a reputation for himself, and to show for it, he was recently courted by one of the biggest producers of stand-up comedy albums, the Nashville-based 800 Pound Gorilla Records. Williams will be recording his debut stand-up comedy album with them at The Improv Shop on Friday, March 29. There’s an 8 p.m. and a 10 p.m. show; each is $10 and tickets can be purchased here. This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.
How did you connect with 800 Pound Gorilla?
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I was recommended by another comedian on their label, and they reached out and asked to see my material. I sent them a tape, and they liked it and said they wanted to record an album with me, which was a huge honor. They are a powerhouse in the industry with great relationships with Sirius Satellite Radio, Spotify, iTunes, Netflix, etc. They also have a roster of some of the best comedians working today, so for them to take a risk on me as an up-and-coming artist means a lot to me.
You have been involved with The Improv Shop for some time now. Is that why you picked the venue to record your album?
The Improv Shop has been my second home. I teach and coach improv there, and the venue is very artist friendly because it’s run by artists. When I signed the deal with 800 Pound Gorilla, we discussed some venues in Nashville and other cities, but on a phone call with Damion Greiman, the CEO—and with a little wise advice from a mentor—I said, “I’m from St. Louis. I love this city. We have a strong comedy scene, and I know the perfect venue.” It means a lot to me to do my first album here. This scene has been very good to me, and it’s chock-full of talent, and it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the world recognizes the talent here. When I approached The Improv Shop about the live recording, they couldn’t have been more accommodating. As an artist, I think it meant a lot to me to have that kind on support from a venue who was willing to roll out the red carpet, saying, “Tell us what you need to make this happen.” Part of becoming good at any craft is getting your 10,000 hours honing it, and the Improv Shop has given me a platform to get those 10,000 hours much quicker and in front of great crowds, so it is nice for that to come full circle and do the recording there.
A lot of my involvement with [The Improv Shop] came from when I decided to get back into stand-up comedy after a long hiatus. I got sober in 2011 and started going back on stage in 2012 to do stand-up. I had never done it in that condition, and I had really crippling stage fright. I was trying to figure out a way to do immersion therapy to overcome that, and I ended up taking some improv classes at The Improv Shop around late 2012. Improv gave me permission to take risks and to be vulnerable. It gave me the courage to get on stage with other people and fail and succeed as a group, which helped me to be able to get better at being up there by myself.
For this show, are you trying out anything new or honing in on bits that have worked for you in the past?
A little bit of both, but a lot of times when you’re putting jokes on an album, you want to go with the tried-and-true material. I might throw some new stuff in for people who have seen me before, but this recording is about getting down jokes that I have been working on for a while. I’m a narrative storytelling comedian—I talk about my life on stage. Part of my act is about becoming a grandpa at 36 years old. That’s a big part of this album—kind of coping with that situation and how it affects my life.
There’s some stuff I’ve been working on for a few years that I’m ready to put out into the world. Once it’s out there, it lives forever. I think most comedians typically go with things that they’ve been working on for a while because of that. I think a joke’s never really finished, but when you put it on an album, you’re kind of saying, like it or not, it’s finished.
There are two shows for this recording, at 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. Will the two sets feature different material?
It will be primarily the same for recording purposes—if something in the audio would mess up on one recording or, God forbid, I would flub a joke, I want to have a safety. I’m going to try to do a couple different versions of jokes on the late show probably because of certain satellite radio channels. I’m not a very dirty comedian, but I’m not squeaky clean. And there are squeaky clean comedy channels. I might mix it up on the order I tell the jokes in or maybe add one here or there.
How does your background in improv play into your stand-up? Do you always leave a little room for improvisation?
There are always moments of spontaneity because every audience is different. I think improv lends itself to stand-up comedy. It makes you a better comedic actor, and part of stand-up comedy is storytelling. I have to breathe life into a lot of characters. If I want to talk about my mom, I just become my mom. If I want to talk about my uncle, I just become my uncle… Or the person on the street who said a certain thing to me. I think improv taught me how to step in and out of characters very easily, and I think that’s something that can be a difficult skill set for stand-ups to acquire. I let improv play a part in the process of preparation and figuring jokes out, but once I have them, I stick to them.
What’s your writing process like?
When I write, I write in big chunks of what I think is funny. I don’t judge it. I don’t allow the critic in my head into the creative space. I write in a different physical space in my house than when I edit to ensure the critic is locked out. I take a bit/joke on stage, record it, go home and listen to it, then I let the critic in to do their job. When I start editing, there’s a rhythm to it. It’s almost like songwriting to me. There’s a certain flow to the joke, and every syllable matters. I try to cut down and get to the funny part as quickly as I can. So there’s a lot of processing that goes into it, and then when you have it, you have it, and then you work on expanding a joke or making it better. George Carlin once said in an interview, “I consider myself a writer who is privileged to perform his own material.” That has stuck with me over the years and probably influenced my approach.
