Jerry Lee Friestad’s voice is the aural equivalent of a seesaw: It goes up and down, up and down, the volume and tone jumping and dipping with every bold proclamation and one-liner. A Southern twang pours in like syrup, but in different flavors – sometimes, it sounds like the good ol’ boy you’d expect someone named Jerry Lee to be; other times, it sounds decidedly like a white boy affecting a ghetto drawl.
The common ingredient in both is tongue-in-cheek delivery, something that comes organically to Friestad, mastermind of The Net Champs, a podcast highlighting the talents of Valley comics. Friestad, a digital journalism junior at Arizona State University, started the show in June 2011.
“I was a big fan of Joe Rogan’s podcast (The Joe Rogan Experience) and there was an episode where it said something like, ‘If you want to do something, do it. Don’t wait around for something to happen,’” Friestad says. “So I started doing this around the same time I started comedy.”
For the uninitiated, podcasts are essentially digital radio shows that listeners can download and listen to on their computers and portable media players. After the initial recording equipment investment, they’re relatively inexpensive to produce and thus have democratized content production and distribution, especially in comedy.
Rogan, Adam Carolla, Marc Maron and Kevin Smith were all early adapters and now comedians from Jay Mohr to Chris Hardwick augment their comedy tours with podcasts. It’s a fun and creative outlet for comics to test new material. It’s also an economical way to increase their exposure and gain new audiences – as of 2010, 45 percent of Americans (roughly 70 million people) had watched or listened to a podcast, according to The Current State of Podcasting, a survey conducted by Edison Research.
“There are so many talented and naturally hilarious people who are so motivational and fun to be around,” Friestad says. “I wanted to give them an avenue to get exposure beyond a bar or an open-mic night. If they make fun of me the whole time, then that’s fine.”
He enlisted his comedian pals from the ASU comedy scene and from all over the Valley. For most of 2011, The Net Champs were a disorganized bunch – there wasn’t a regular recording schedule, constant hosts or cohesive mission for the podcast. Friestad says he was “an asshole,” and focused too much on his own ego, to the detriment of the collective.
He streamlined the operation and re-launched the Champs in January with a fiery new focus and devotion to digital broadcasting. His Tempe apartment is The Net Champs headquarters, and the living room/recording studio goes live every Monday at 5:30 p.m. with the new starting lineup – Friestad and comedians Jake Davis, Jeffrey Wiles and Day “Day Day” Adam Peace. A rotating cast of other comedians do guest spots when they can.
“You’ve caught us at a great time,” Friestad says one Monday evening, about an hour before recording starts. “We recently amped it up. We’ve been getting a lot more buzz, more downloads online. We gotta deliver something.”
The other guys trickle in and Friestad showcases his Southern hospitality – he was born in Montgomery, Ala. – by offering his fellow comedians bowls of teriyaki chicken as he explains his attire. He recently cut off the bottoms of all of his pajama pants on a whim, and regrets that his bedtime wardrobe now consists entirely of “pa-shorts – the mobility of shorts with the comfort of pajamas,” he says.
He also recently cut his own hair and festooned one wall of his living room with papers and white boards chockablock with lists, charts, letters (one particularly vitriolic one from an ex, another he wrote as a mea culpa to his mother), inspirational quotes and reminders (“take vitamins … drink water”). These are all part of his “motivational kick,” which has been the impetus for his remodeling of his life and the podcast.
The guys read the letter from the ex in astonishment and rib Friestad for looking like a pirate in his striped and tattered capri-pant pajamas. Jokes spew like carbon dioxide with these fellas, and they spend about half an hour before the show catching up and making fun of each other. When the mics and cameras (they post videos of each pod online) finally switch on, there’s not much difference from their pre-show banter. The volume increases slightly and they mug for the camera a bit, but the energy level and chemistry they share is authentic and not forced for the show.
In the world of podcasts, voices are important. A grating voice can turn a listener off forever. A compelling voice will keep a listener’s attention during lulls in hilarity. Davis’ voice is sonorous and authoritative – it could easily belong to an old-school preacher, politician or news anchor. Peace’s is smooth like a radio DJ’s, punctuated occasionally by a spirited laugh (usually at Friestad’s expense). Wiles’ is reedy and familiar, the kind of voice your best friend, boyfriend or brother might have. They are all distinct yet complement each other.
Friestad likens the foursome to a SWAT team.
“Jake’s the all-around guy who’s good at everything,” Friestad says. “Jeff’s the specialist, the talent. Day’s the grizzled veteran and I’m the engineer, the crazy tech specialist.”
They’re working out the kinks and trying to make each podcast smoother than the last.
“We’re still stepping over each other’s lines,” Wiles, a Tempe-based comedian, says. “Part of making a good podcast is being able to have an extended, interesting conversation that people want to listen to, and I feel like we’re always trying to make sure we do that.”
Peace, a Detroit-born comedian now living in Glendale, says being real is what makes the podcast effective.
“We start off with a joke and want it to be funny,” he says. “But then you open yourself up and be relatable.”
The guys show up with ideas and talking points for each show as a safety net but are free to go on tangents if that’s where the funny goes. They also have regular segments like Bone Patrol and Internet Champ of the Week, and running jokes from “bring your gun to school,” to “hug her from behind” to their constant jokes about Peace having an affair with Friestad’s mom.
“We’ll talk about serious things and then Day immediately says something derogatory about Jerry’s mom,” Davis says.
At last count, the podcast had received 12,000 unique downloads – a staggering feat for a start-up helmed by a student. Friestad says he and The Net Champs are just hitting their stride.
“It’s the first time I’m putting 100 percent effort into something I really care about,” Friestad says. “I was always working for something, but once you flip the switch and start working towards something, it’s amazing … Once I made the show about them and not about me, when I let go – it got funny.”
The Net Champs can be downloaded on iTunes and are live on Ustream every Monday at 5:30 p.m.
Contact the reporter at llemoine@asu.edu
