Becoming a silly guy entails an unexpected degree of calculation. You need to engage in stand-up for thirteen years, even if the audience’s reaction is tepid. You must immerse yourself in acting, music, comedy, and theater. A harmonious belief in the mystical is essential—it’s a combination of manifestation and diligent effort. Consistently going viral and posting on social media is necessary. You have to be an astute observer of the internet, navigating the algorithm with finesse. Frequent touring, practicing yoga, and consuming low-acidity fruits and veggies are also required.
Being a silly guy demands unwavering dedication.
At least, that’s true for 38-year-old comedian and content creator Morgan Jay, who originated the phrase “silly guy” to label his mix of lighthearted crowd interaction, musical performance, and playful irreverence. Clips from his live performances, where he sings and engages with his audience using a microphone and autotune, have propelled him to 5 million Instagram followers and 7.5 million TikTok followers.
In one clip, he interacts with a person named Ethan and asks the audience, “Do we fucking love Ethan?” That segment amassed 140 million views. In another, more recent video, he inquires of a couple meeting for the first time if they would “make love tonight.” Nearly three million viewers have seen it on TikTok, and a staggering 204 million have witnessed it on Instagram Reels.
This isn’t mere luck. It’s success driven by intention.
To clarify, Jay isn’t the sole comedian who takes performance preparation earnestly—most comedians do. He follows in the footsteps of comedians like Aziz Ansari, Todd Barry, and Jerrod Carmichael. However, Jay has accomplished something distinctive: he has unearthed not only how to make his comedy thrive online but also how to render a live performance genuinely enjoyable to watch on TikTok—so delightful that people are eager to attend in person.
“Every song I create has a structure incorporated for crowd interaction,” he shares with Mashable. After each performance, he meets with his team to discuss what succeeded, what fell flat, and which “moments we can clip.” He jots down notes and hands the footage to an editor, who trims it down and returns it. Together, they decide on what to share.
He shares this during a video call from his home in LA, where art adorns the walls around him—his four guitars; sketches transformed into sculptures; pieces of pinks, oranges, and blues. The ceilings are lofty, and natural light floods the room as he draws back the curtains to his left.
“I’m a strong believer, and I understand this may sound unconventional or whatever, but I am a strong believer [that] making space for better things invites the universe to provide,” Jay states. “Naturally, you must meet the universe halfway… I was putting in the effort, and I had considerable experience. A lot of elements just seemed to align perfectly, and it all paid off.”
He is dressed in a Khruangbin band t-shirt and a silver chain. He remains composed, which is quite an achievement for a musician being asked to endure a multi-hour interview on his computer, but Jay is, after all, an actor educated at NYU Tisch School of the Arts and the Stella Adler Studio of Acting. When he reflects, he rests his head on his hand. And Jay reflects frequently.
Travel back a few years, and you would find him conducting bike tours in New York City or interning on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. He made an appearance on NBC’s Bring the Funny, a program he believed would serve as his significant breakthrough—”but it didn’t lead anywhere.” He spent ten years doing stand-up.
“I experienced numerous near-successes and possibilities,” he notes. “I nearly got booked as one of those talking heads on shows like, I Love the ‘90s. I was this close to being a recurring figure on [The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon]. I had all these ‘almost’ moments, dude. For a long time, I felt overlooked.”
In 2017, he resigned from his position at the Apple Store to chase comedy full-time, and he was doing quite well. However, in October 2019, when he began posting on TikTok, he encountered virality.
“I had a friend working at TikTok who suggested, ‘Hey, you should share your content on this app.’ And I was like, ‘Dude, I don’t want to,'” Jay recounts. That’s a relatable reaction—artists like Halsey, FKA twigs, and Charli XCX have all expressed concerns about the pressure to post on the platform, and even less prominent artists have discussed the creative drain that social media presents. But it wasn’t the creative drain that Jay was sidestepping; he was already active on Instagram, and the thought of incorporating another platform