Jo Koy brings the funny to UBS Arena

Jo Koy has a special perspective on life. The 52-year-old stand-up comedian from Washington grew up with a Filipino mom and a white dad. Throughout his material he often discusses the vast differences between the two and his experience being raised biracial. 

Koy, whose real name is Joseph Glenn Herbert but goes by the nickname his aunt gave him, delivers his animated stories with both heart and exuberance. However, his popularity came late in life. Although he built a steady following on the late-night TV circuit, his career didn’t fully pop until he dropped his 2017 Netflix special, “Live from Seattle.” His bits like “Rice Is Rice” and “My Brother-in-Law Dre” went viral garnering millions of views on YouTube, which propelled his act into arenas.

Before bringing his world tour to UBS Arena at Belmont Park in Elmont on Nov. 24, Koy spoke with Newsday about falling in love with stand-up, finding his comedic voice and taking on an arena-size crowd.

When and how did you first get exposed to stand-up comedy?

I was always a funny kid in school and my friend would call me a comedian, but I had no idea what that was. When I was 9, he played me his dad’s Richard Pryor tape and I could not stop listening to it. By 12, I saw Eddie Murphy’s “Delirious” and I got to physically see what a stand-up comedian did and I knew that’s what I’m supposed to be for the rest of my life.

When was your first time on stage?

I was right out of high school. I entered this talent contest called “Starmania” at a local bar. I wasn’t even old enough to be there. I had to pencil in a fake mustache on my face. I bombed so bad. This guy, who won the contest doing a Lionel Richie impersonation, told me, “Yeah man, you didn’t do good, but you were fun to watch. You have good stage presence.” If it wasn’t for him, I probably would have quit.

When did it click for you?

It took me three years to figure it out and understand how to be conversational and natural. I realized that the funny guy that I am when I’m at lunch with my friends can be the same guy on stage.

What was the evolution of your humor?

By 2005, I started hitting my stride at the Laugh Factory in Los Angeles. My son was just born and I’d talk about my day in more of a storyteller style fashion rather than direct jokes. I began gathering material from my home life. When you are a new parent, you are stressed out and there’s nothing more stress relieving than laughter. People could relate to what I was going through and that was comforting because I felt like I wasn’t alone. That’s what I love about comedy. You don’t need to be a certain ethnicity or religion to relate because we are all the same.

You rolled the dice on your career by shooting a comedy special, 'Live from Seattle,' and selling it to Netflix after getting passed over. Was that a nerve-wracking moment?

Yes! I had been in the game for 26 years and I was willing to bet everything I had to prove that I was right. It was the biggest gamble of my life, but I’m glad I did it. Even if Netflix didn’t buy it, I was going to put it on YouTube anyway. But initially when they passed, I was so hurt that I felt invisible. My numbers were nothing to them. Meanwhile I was selling out hundreds of shows at the Improv breaking records. To not be recognized was heartbreaking and caused me to be depressed. I truly felt like quitting. But I saw my numbers and that’s why I bet on myself. To be clear, the people that gave me my current deal at Netflix are not from the regime that passed on me. That was the old school mentality. 

Your mom is an incredible character in your work. How did you start incorporating her into your material?

One Christmas I bought my son a Wii gaming system and my mom started playing with him. All of a sudden, she’s talking smack to this 5-year-old and I was getting a kick out of it. I went on stage the next night and told the story of how she looked at him saying, “Game Over!” after she beat him in Wii tennis. The crowd died laughing and I realized this is the way to introduce my Filipino mom into my comedy.

You are currently performing at an arena level. What have you done to alter your delivery to match the size of the venue?

The energy I have to maintain consistently for 90 minutes to two hours is exhausting. It’s like mental Olympics. Imagine playing 25 comedy clubs at the same time. Plus, there’s so many different people and attitudes to juggle. You have to cut excess fat on every routine and get to the punchlines quicker. Your pace has to be fast but not too fast. It’s a fine balance.

How do you keep up this high level of hilarity?

You have to be your genuine self and be vulnerable on stage. You can’t be afraid or question the thoughts in your head because that’s where the real laughter comes from. Plus, I don’t take breaks, I’m constantly writing. I have to keep this engine running or I’m going to lose everything.

By David J. Criblez

david.criblez@newsday.comDavidJCriblez

David J. Criblez is a reporter for Newsday's exploreLI, covering entertainment-related events from local music to stand-up comedy to festivals.