Do longer-running podcasts change from season to season? On TV, we witness shows that tackle new storylines, add or subtract characters, and even alter the "feel" of the show. The Walking Dead, Supernatural, NCIS, and The Big Bang Theory made substantial changes over the course of their long TV lives.
How about a podcast that's been on for over five years like Nobody Listens To Paula Poundstone?
In case you're not familiar with the show, here is the show's synopsis: "Join Paula Poundstone, co-host Adam Felber and a long list of
characters, real and imaginary, on Nobody Listens To Paula Poundstone
(the comedy podcast), a podcast taking the fun of a late-night show, the
wit of a public radio show, and the knowledge of a guest experts while
setting the volume to the max. Acerbic yet infectiously funny, Nobody
Listens To Paula Poundstone (the comedy podcast) invites listeners into
the audience of this absolutely ludicrous variety show, if they can
follow along…or not."
This comedy podcast mirrors the quirky stream of consciousness mindset of its eponymous host, Paula Poundstone. Known for her smart, observational humor and spontaneous wit, Poundstone is well known for her appearances years ago on A Prairie Home Companion, her current guest spots on Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me and her stand-up act, which gears up for more than 85 shows a year. Poundstone’s enduring strength as a comedian does not really depend on a tightly scripted routine, but on her magical ability to improvise and begin talking to an audience to uncover comedic nuggets from the mouths of admiring fans.
I've seen her live several times, and she often comes on stage and begins to talk to the audience. From those interactions, her improvisational comedy flows. Unlike a tightly scripted routine like Sebastian Maniscalco or Kevin James, Poundstone lives on the comedic edge. Her podcast reflects that spontaneous tone.
When you listen to Nobody Listens To Paula Poundstone, however, you are assaulted with a hail storm of sharp-witted jokes, zany characters, idiosyncratic contests, lunatic projects, cranky animals, imaginary celebrity guests and a carousel of talented musicians.
That part of the podcast has remained stable over the life of the show, yet the craziness changes constantly. The show has the weirdest book club imaginable -- now reading the Valley Of The Dolls by Jacqueline Susann. There are odd gardening tips, the ongoing search for a survivalist gone missing, and new musicians every episode that become the "house band."
A big change has been the location of the podcast studio, and there have been several over the course of the show. In the beginning, the show was recorded at the Ray Horseman Studios on Miranda Street in Los Angeles, an area infamous for its urban decay.
Over nearly 300 episodes, Poundstone and her crew have conjured
up characters that will wrinkle your forehead, including Southern grand
dame Mrs. Culpepper, whose husband, the colonel, died tragically from
eating bad cheese.
“Adam, it was the gouda that got him,” Mrs. Culpepper confesses to Felber in their ritual mock interview.
Recently, in episode 297, the show eschewed a special guest in favor of the crew playing games like Password. The show was laugh-out-loud funny. The people in the Chik-Fil-A drive up line did not appreciate my guffaws.
Episode 78 was one of my favorites. Called “We’re Dying Up Here!” the show welcomed guest mortician and author Caitlin Doughty, who spoke about the rituals surrounding death with her own brand of irreverent humor seamlessly blending with Poundstone’s gallows humor.
The guest interview is where Felber shines. First, he has that dilettante quality where he seems to know enough about a lot of topics and second – and more important -- he keeps Poundstone from veering off the interview path where she can riff for five or more minutes while the guest is mute and momentum is lost.
Outstanding guest experts include Hulu’s The Orville writer and former Star Trek science consultant Andre Bormanis who “dropped science on them” and ecologist Dan Cooper who explained to Poundstone how to communicate with the birds in her front and backyards.
What's also changed -- and is an object lesson for indie podcasters -- is the energy that Poundstone and her crew invest in monetization via growing a loyal fan base. Loyal fans -- and Patreon backers -- are called "Nobodys." The Nobodys are referenced regularly, often feted, and quite often become part of the show. Poundstone puts a lot of effort into her merch for the show, and she's not afraid to aggressively sell her show to listeners.
Like all comedy podcasts, Nobody Listens to Paula Poundstone attracts listeners who like her as a comedian. That's the essence -- and the success quotient -- for comedy podcasts. "I think this person is funny, and now I can hear them regularly instead waiting for a live show or a Netflix special."
Of course, as Poundstone, who was once thought of as "edgy," has grown older, so too has her audience. The key here is to attract new listeners, since numerous podcast surveys reveal that podcast listening rates for people over 55 years old are low, and not appreciably climbing.
Listening to Nobody Listens to Paula Poundstone
is akin to walking around a crammed antique store with narrow aisles
and items stacked floor to ceiling. That’s where you’re likely to find
treasures galore like Mrs. Culpepper, the store that sells dented appliances down
the street, the missing survivalist, the kaleidoscope of musicians and
the strange alchemy that makes Nobody Listens to Paula Poundstone a
worthwhile listen.
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