Big Jay Oakerson is blue as hell. His new album, Live at Webster Hall, is essentially a crash course in penis envy. Try finding one bit on this album that doesn't tailspin into tales about having a small dick. If you can, you're probably listening to the wrong record. "Dick Variations" might have been a better title.
His delivery is reminiscent of Louis CK at his most deer-fuckingly crass and Tom Segura, also at his most similarly crass. Oakerson isn't without his dimensions however. The lion's share of his material is most certainly toilet humour, but his experiences as a father coupled with his childhood memories make for a pretty deep toilet to plumb.
Oakerson's crowd work is a highlight of Live at Webster Hall. Irreverent, daring and with very few off-the-cuff flubs, he interacts with the audience with a deftness only possessed by those who don't particularly care about the outcome. While swapping penis stories with the audience, he comes very close to crossing the big red line of racism. Surely in some people's opinion he left that line in the dust without a second thought. But Oakerson's audience is made of stronger stuff than most, and their resilience to the unspeakable horrors he subjects them to is insanely funny.
Oakerson's views on friendship — and of course, how friendship works when dicks come into play — might make for some of the best material on Live at Webster Hall. He seems more reasonable and relatable in these bits, particularly in his "My Friend Dave" gag. He's just as ridiculous when discussing topics of an everyday nature, however that extra hint of relatability does his material a world of good. Ridiculousness is always funnier when it's believable.
For Jay Oakerson, there is no approach too risky, no angle too mild for dick jokes. Throughout his hour-long album, there is perhaps only one joke that does not — however it starts — turn out to be about dicks. Some might say the dick joke is dead or that it's all been done, but for Oakerson, everything comes back to dicks, big and small.
His delivery is reminiscent of Louis CK at his most deer-fuckingly crass and Tom Segura, also at his most similarly crass. Oakerson isn't without his dimensions however. The lion's share of his material is most certainly toilet humour, but his experiences as a father coupled with his childhood memories make for a pretty deep toilet to plumb.
Oakerson's crowd work is a highlight of Live at Webster Hall. Irreverent, daring and with very few off-the-cuff flubs, he interacts with the audience with a deftness only possessed by those who don't particularly care about the outcome. While swapping penis stories with the audience, he comes very close to crossing the big red line of racism. Surely in some people's opinion he left that line in the dust without a second thought. But Oakerson's audience is made of stronger stuff than most, and their resilience to the unspeakable horrors he subjects them to is insanely funny.
Oakerson's views on friendship — and of course, how friendship works when dicks come into play — might make for some of the best material on Live at Webster Hall. He seems more reasonable and relatable in these bits, particularly in his "My Friend Dave" gag. He's just as ridiculous when discussing topics of an everyday nature, however that extra hint of relatability does his material a world of good. Ridiculousness is always funnier when it's believable.
For Jay Oakerson, there is no approach too risky, no angle too mild for dick jokes. Throughout his hour-long album, there is perhaps only one joke that does not — however it starts — turn out to be about dicks. Some might say the dick joke is dead or that it's all been done, but for Oakerson, everything comes back to dicks, big and small.
