Comrade Tripp’s downward gaze and melancholy demeanor on stage as he talks about the meaning of life are not mere personas, but genuine expressions of his inner self.
During a stand-up show, Tripp openly discussed his personal experiences with anxiety and depression.
The anxiety’s like, ‘What if everyone here hates you?’ And then the depression’s like, ‘Yeah, they do. There’s nothing you can do about it.’
COMRADE TRIPP
“I’ve been dealing with it for the past ‘four-ever,’” he said. “I feel like they cancel each other out though. The anxiety’s like, ‘What if everyone here hates you?’ And then the depression’s like, ‘Yeah, they do. There’s nothing you can do about it.’”
The audience erupted into laughter.
Tripp’s journey as a comedian began to take shape during his high school years as he honed his skills by performing at open mics. Starting with knock knock jokes, Tripp, who is Black and Asian, gradually developed his self-deprecating humor, which gained significant traction on TikTok.
He admitted to feeling out of place on and off the stage. However, comedy became an outlet for him to express himself and forge connections with others through the power of laughter.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
How does your cultural background and personal experiences shape your comedic style and material? Are there any particular topics or issues that you find yourself drawn to?
People say my jokes are sad, and it’s because my life is sad. It’s because I’m a person of color in Minnesota, and that’s sad. I mean, it’s hard not for that to influence who I am, because it is who I am.
Yeah. My comedy’s pretty personal and I’ll go into, sort of hardships of loneliness that come from being a person of color in the Midwest. I’m OK being sad, like yeah, it is helpful to talk about it. If people laugh, that means they’re also sad. That helps with the loneliness, but still sad so, yeah beyond that, I’m not sure.
Does representation matter in comedy? What role do you think local comedians play in bringing diverse perspectives?
Yeah, I mean that’s the whole point is being personal and getting to know people, and if all the comics are the same, then you’re not really going to know people—you’re going to know their slight variations of the same person, and it’s kind of boring for comedy.
Oftentimes at comedy shows, they do a showcase style where it’s like five or six comedians on the show and usually it’s only one person of color and one non-male identifying person.
COMRADE TRIPP
Oftentimes at comedy shows, they do a showcase style where it’s like five or six comedians on the show and usually it’s only one person of color and one non-male identifying person, so I think beyond it just being tokenism, it’s rare that you get to be on a show or work with other comedians like yourself.
There are very funny comedians of color and very funny LGBTQ and women folk who don’t get to do comedy shows together, because yeah, they’re just too many of the other kind of people and you’re lucky enough to have two Black people on the show. That becomes the theme of this show. If there’s multiple women on the show, then it becomes a “ladies night show” kind of thing. So, I help produce shows where we try to have more people.
Have you encountered any unique challenges or opportunities as a comedian of color in the industry? How do you navigate those experiences?
Oh, I’m lucky if I’m the only person of color at a show. I’m lucky if I’m even asked to be on a show. There are plenty of shows where there are none, where it’s just straight white men. It’s quite sad and yeah, so it’s difficult but oftentimes, it’s pretty easy to put on a comedy show.
I mean, it’s pretty easy to produce a comedy show, but most of the shows aren’t good. That’s a great advertisement for myself. Most of my shows aren’t great, but I produce some. I’m able to do them how I want to do them, and I’m able to put the people on them who I think are funny, and you know, the hierarchy is strange, especially in the last few years.
I mean, live entertainment has changed a bit. Anyone can put on a comedy show. It doesn’t have to be good. It can be terrible as long as it’s honest and it’s inexpensive. I can put on a free comedy show. It’s terrible but no one is going to yell at me. I wouldn’t trust my reality if every show I put my blood, sweat, and tears into was good. Just blood, sweat, and tears aren’t good components to making things. Those are all viscous fluids. I’d rather put something more substantial into it.
What do you hope to see in Minnesota’s comedy scene moving forward?
Just more comedy. I hope that more interesting people decide that they want to try it, because you don’t have to be funny, you don’t have to be good—you just have to be interesting. That’s the baseline, and they can learn to be funny. You can’t really learn to be interesting.
More funny people doing comedy, and then they get good and start producing their own shows and then book me on their shows so that I can do more comedy as well. I hope to see more of the good stuff and less of the boring stuff.
