US comic Akaash Singh has a theory as to why it seems every second man on the planet has their own podcast: “There’s no other space for us to talk in any kind of therapeutic way. It’s not socially acceptable. That’s why these male podcasts all popped up.”
It’s not actually Singh’s theory, but was elaborated by a guest on Singh’s own podcast, Flagrant. Co-hosted by fellow comic Andrew Schulz, the show has racked up millions of downloads and YouTube views. It’s popular enough that Singh is about to embark on his first tour of Australia with his live show Generational Triumph.
On the surface of it, Singh’s podcast seems to follow the textbook bromance model of podcasting: couches, brews and a bunch of manscaped dudes holding forth on any topic that comes to mind.
“Our friends will get together on Flagrant, and we’ll make some jokes that are inappropriate, and we’ll make fun of each other. We’ll make fun of everyone,” says Singh. So far, so Joe Rogan.
Amid that miasma of celeb roasting, sports talk and friendly beefs, however, you don’t expect to hear blokes enthusing over the benefits of therapy. That’s where Singh stands out.
“By the time Flagrant started, I was a pretty big proponent of therapy. It was really life-changing for me… I’ve been in therapy for 10 years now. Breath work, all these other things. Read the books, write affirmations.”
Singh was surprised when he discovered that his podcast was being lumped in with the burgeoning online world of misogyny known as the manosphere. He only knew of the manosphere as “that red pill thing, which is ‘women are all awful’, and then they’re selling you a course or whatever garbage shit they’re doing, which was gross to me. I hope men just grow up and evolve.”
That said, Singh’s co-host has been a lightning rod for controversy, frequently criticised for his use of gender and racial slurs, offensive stereotypes and ableist language. Flagrant’s guest list might include therapists, but it’s also featured Donald Trump and Jordan Peterson.
TAKE 7: THE ANSWERS ACCORDING TO AKAASH SINGH
- Worst habit? I lose everything. All the time.
- Greatest fear? Losing a loved one.
- The line that stayed with you? I’m not sure yet…
- Biggest regret? Fearing failure.
- Favourite book? The Autobiography of Malcolm X.
- The artwork you wish was yours? Dave Chappelle’s The Bird Revelation.
- If you could time travel, where would you go? 100 years into the future.
Singh’s own manner is less polarising, but his stand-up toes the line when it comes to what was once quaintly called political correctness. In his 2024 stand-up special Gaslit, he jokes about the proliferation of gender identities: “If four dudes in here can name nine genders, I’ll suck all your dicks right now.”
He might not exactly be anti-woke, but he’s not anti-anti-woke, then. “We’re very free to say whatever we want. Your career isn’t affected. I don’t know how many comedians are still doing that thing where it’s like, oh, I can’t say anything. There’s a couple. Not saying this as an insult, but it largely feels like guys who are probably a bit older, and they’re trying to navigate a world that has changed underneath their feet.”
Those older comics might have a hard time figuring out their masculinity issues circa 2026. These days tech bros cry in saunas because emotional wellness increases productivity, while jacked-up gym rats eschew any form of entertainment, food or sleep on international flights to prove their superior willpower. And all those men whining about cancel culture? Dinosaurs.
“I think the cancel culture thing existed more before we all had our careers via the internet. When there was only movies and TV shows, you had to worry about cancellation. If there was any controversy, these brands would probably not want to work with you. That is kind of gone,” says Singh.
Not that everyone is all live-and-let-live. Singh’s wife, Jasleen, has a master’s in business journalism but recently began hosting her own podcast centred on ‘unfiltered girl talk’. “I don’t think cancel culture’s a thing, but the piling on does happen. Even my wife, who just started posting content, I’m seeing some pushback she gets from some fairly tame clip. And then the commenters feel free to be as nasty as they want to be,” says Singh.
Controversy generates views, and there’s a sense of soap opera to the way so much content in the Flagrant-adjacent arena consists of calling out other podcasters or defending themselves from similar attacks. Singh and Schulz have had ongoing feuds with other podcasts such as Bad Friends and the definitely-in-the-manosphere Fresh & Fit. But the cohosts have also engaged in what clearly seem like manufactured fights between themselves, the latest roping in Jasleen to produce an obviously confected drama concerning their relationship.
If cancel culture has slipped into the wings, in its place is a parody that resembles professional wrestling’s kayfabe: let’s pretend our beefs are real and laugh all the way to the bank.
Why should comedians be held to a standard higher than any other entertainer, though? “We speak truth to power? I never wanted to be one of those guys,” says Singh.
The comedian-as-saviour figure was amplified during lockdown, he says, when providing some comic relief felt like an essential service. “A lot of comics rode that false hero narrative. When we were cooped up during COVID, going to a live show and laughing with people felt like the greatest thing in the world.”
That novelty has worn off. “I think now people are realising comics are just as fallible as anybody else. We like money, we like attention. There’s something that makes you say: ‘I’m going to dedicate my life to making a room full of people like me for 20 minutes then never seeing them again’. We’re doing this because we have a void.”
There’s that therapy talk coming in again, which might prompt the clichéd psych-couch response: tell us about your childhood, Akaash. As a second generation Indian-American growing up in Texas, Singh was never supposed to be a comedian. “You were supposed to be a doctor or an engineer. There weren’t successful Indians in Hollywood back then. There was Russell Peters, but my parents didn’t know who he was. And if they’re not on TV, they’re probably not successful in your parents’ eyes.”
His folks must have been pleased when Singh finished his pre-med studies and had a year to apply for medical school, but that was when he decided to head to Los Angeles to see how he would fare on the comedy circuit.
In the 20 years since, he’s had ample opportunity to win them over. Does the title of the show he’s about to tour to Australia – Generational Triumph – signal that his parents have finally been won over to his cause?
“I don’t know if they have a choice. I’m 41, am I going to become a doctor now?”
Akaash Singh: Generational Triumph is at Melbourne Recital Centre on February 8, Powerhouse Theatre, Brisbane, on Feb 12 and Sydney’s Enmore Theatre on Feb 13.
