The Best Comedy Albums of 2023

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Comedy specials can be daunting, both for the performers who have to reckon with the high cost of production, and for the viewers who find themselves contending with their own ever-shortening attention spans. Flicking on a comedian’s hour, especially one you’re not familiar with, can feel like a commitment that you’re simply not ready for. However, for the serial comedic dater, albums are a much more approachable alternative. Pop on your headphones and you’re off to the races.

Most comedians who put out specials also share them in audio format, but we’re focusing here on albums that were solely released as records. Otherwise, this list would be a lot more unwieldy.

And instead of ranking the best comedy albums of the year, we’ve decided to list them alphabetically. While all of these releases utilize the same medium, it can feel an awful lot like comparing apples and oranges when it comes down to deciding which record is “better” than another. I’m opting for fairness this year, or at least my version of it:

Maria Bamford: CROWD-PLEASER

From the jump, Maria Bamford brings her signature frantic, haphazard energy, doing a Chicago word association (“Hot dog, wind”) as she greets the audience. The Lady Dynamite actor is about as endearingly goofy as comedians get, and it’s because of this that her jokes, especially her diatribes about mental health, work so well. Bamford is a rare comic who can make you laugh about intrusive thoughts and suicidal ideation thanks to both her absurdity and unflinching frankness.

Key to Bamford’s silliness and, thus, her success is her voice. Referring to someone’s voice as an instrument can definitely elicit an eye roll from me, and yet no word feels more appropriate here. CROWD-PLEASER is consistently, characteristically Bamford—and by definition that means you’ll be surprised by her suddenly slipping into an accent or doing an impression of a helium-voice kiddo. Bamford will whisper ever so softly, and then yell out a joke with Oprah levels of loud grandiosity. Her mere delivery of lines is funny, devoid of context, because her voice is so effective. Bamford’s rhythmic patter during other parts borders on poetic, especially because of her careful word choice. Listening to this album makes you appreciate comedy as not just an art, but a craft. [Full Review]

Liz Barrett: Gettin’ By

After a deep sigh, Liz Barrett shares her secret to living well: “I am having a great year because I have given up.” Given up on losing weight, given up on pretending to like salads, given up on giving a shit about what other people think. It’s this final choice that makes Barrett’s droll, wry sense of humor so entertaining.

Between her deadpan delivery and shrugging, sarcastic observations, Barrett’s comedy is a perfect marriage of tone and content. She jokes about vegetarians, sober friends, newlyweds, and in-laws with an acerbic wit that she just as often aims at herself. Barrett initially started comedy over a decade ago, amidst struggling with her career and infertility, and that dark edge, the desire to laugh at whatever bullshit is thrown your way, forms the solid backbone of her set. At times that can mean certain punchlines feel predictable—her crack about Naked and Afraid comes to mind—but Barrett is such a confident and charming performer that these moments are easy to gloss over. [Full Review]

Derrick Brown: A Close Shave with Heaven

Derrick Brown takes to the Boston stage accompanied by twinkling piano, courtesy of Amanda Rafkin, and this musical choice sets the tone for an LP that clearly would be at home on the airwaves of NPR. And yet Brown keeps from being pretentious; he is consistently self-deprecating and reminds us to “Stay stupid, everybody!” The ivories aren’t abused here either—smatterings of piano may be used to accentuate some jokes, but the instrument is by no means a crutch.

Over the course of A Close Shave with Heaven, Brown reveals himself to be something of a romantic, recalling past relationships and emphasizing the importance of pursuing love in all its forms (“Is this a feelings show? Yeah, it might be,” he admits at one point). Brown’s lust for life is one of the most compelling aspects of the album, and most effectively communicated through his rich poetry. Between more traditional jokes—often wistfully delivered one-liners or silly personal vignettes—Brown recites poems that are both rife with evocative language and irreverent humor. I still can’t get over his hilarious and apt description of erect nipples in his “sexy poem.” Brown somehow manages to not take the art form too seriously (on the subject of making fun of poets he says, “Maybe we deserve it”) but also crafts verses with precision and love. Brown’s not taking any cheap shots here, instead expertly balancing the strange bedfellows of poetry and stand-up. [Full Review]

Cara Connors: Straight for Pay

There’s a lot of pressure on a stand-up comedian’s debut album to properly introduce them to us, sight unseen; you need to be confident in your ability to sell jokes based on your voice and your voice alone. Luckily for LA-based comedian Cara Connors, her voice is one of their strongest suits, bolstering her record Straight for Pay, which was taped at the Hideout Chicago.

Connors’ vocal elasticity is truly a wonder, immediately bringing to mind Adam Sandler’s goofy impressions. At other moments, hearing Connors deliver a line in a strange, high-pitched manner makes you feel like you’ve been dropped into a Broad City episode and Ilana’s doing a bit. Connors’ various impersonations are akin to meeting a whole cast of characters that you’re already familiar with, even if you’re not fully acquainted yet: creepy divorced Uncle Jim; the drunk, dance floor-ready mom at a wedding; a well-meaning but misguided straight ally. Besides these caricatures, Connors also exploits her voice to drive home points, either as a punchline or to emphasize their own unease. And as a millennial, she’s got plenty of anxiety to go around, channeling it in ways that are not only funny, but also make the listener feel seen. [Full Review]

Jon Glaser: Jon Glaser’s Soothing Meditations for the Solitary Dog

If you know Jon Glaser from his more mainstream roles, like his stint as Councilman Jamm in Parks and Recreation, or more recently as Nathaniel in Single Drunk Female, this record may come as a bit of a surprise. No, he’s not his jerkwad, pathetic characters; comedy album Glaser is much more relatable. He may veer off on a curmudgeonly tangent every now and then, but these are always valid—especially his diatribe about the danger of e-scooters and e-bikes zipping around the city willy-nilly.

Jon Glaser’s Soothing Meditations for the Solitary Dog begins with spa-ready ambient music and twinkling sounds in the background as the gentle voice of “Uncle Jon” reassures lonely canines that their humans will surely be home soon (unless they’ve been run over by a car or some other tragedy has befallen them). His plans to record the perfect, calming audio companion for needy dogs are dashed, though, as more and more issues crop up. It’s the type of escalating chaos Glaser excels at, aided by the sound design expertise of Melissa Weiss and additional design as well as mixing and mastering from Nick Zampiello. As Glaser strays further from his noble task, increasingly grating noises disrupt the dulcet background music, from jingling keys to zooming traffic. [Full Review]

Papp Johnson: Timeless

The first thing you notice about Papp Johnson is the timbre of his voice. It’s sonorous, adding depth to his unhurried, carefree delivery. His set is full of pregnant pauses, some so long that you’ll think you’ve accidentally stopped the track. Johnson’s tendency to let moments linger shows off a quiet confidence. More often than not jokes hit harder after lulls, though occasionally they fizzle out. Sometimes Johnson’s trailing off is the punchline itself, and again this demonstrates just how comfortable he is on stage to make such a risky choice. Many comedians fear an audience’s silence so much that they fill up every last second with the sound of their own voice, quality be damned, but Johnson is one of the rare few who realizes that sometimes less is more.

After starting off with an obligatory pandemic mention (I’m personally a fan of his theory as to how covid started), he moves onto exploring life as a tall man, his stint working security, the appeal of Hillary Clinton as president, the MeToo movement, and sex. The breadth of the subject matter means we get a decent, if slightly superficial, picture of who Johnson is. And that’s okay—not every comedy album has to dive into the deep end. In fact, Timeless’ main appeal is just how luxuriously laidback it is; this is a record for savoring on your own schedule. [Full Review]

Greg Proops: French Drug Deal

For the last two New Years Eves, actor, comedian, and frequent Whose Line Is It Anyway? guest Greg Proops has recorded comedy LPs at Punch Line San Francisco. The first, In the City, was taped as the final moments of 2021 ticked away, and you can certainly tell; there’s a bitterness—hilariously delivered—that tinges the whole show. Proops pokes fun at Capitol rioters, anti-vaxxers, and conservatives of every variety in a way that feels as much like a cathartic exorcism of the frustrating past 12 months as it does a comedy album.

Proops’ new LP, French Drug Deal (though mid-set he proposes the alternate title I Demand Fresh Water: An Ocean Storm Comes in Gradually), is comparatively whimsical. That’s not to say he does away with his sarcasm and dry wit on the new album (French Drug Deal has that in spades, especially when Proops mentions the woes of bespectacled people in the rain) or that In the City lacks imagination (as always, Proops is a master of simile and evocative language). It’s just that a year has passed Proops by, and the change is palpable in his subject matter. French Drug Deal involves an extended tangent about bats, an anecdote about The View, a bit about performing at then-Prince now-King Charles’ birthday, and multiple stories starting off with travel destinations—the latter of which is certainly a sign of the times. [Full Review]

Natasha Vaynblat: We’re All Dads Here

Natasha Vaynblat emigrated from Russia at the age of seven, and some of her funniest anecdotes touch on the differences between Russian and American cultures. Her parents are a definite highlight, whether arguing with Americans about the weather or getting deep into house music. We’re All Dads Here is a hilarious look at Vaynblat’s family life, her marriage of 10 years, and the various scrapes she’s gotten herself into. There’s nothing too deep here, and that’s not a negative. We get a solid 55 minutes of laughs, which we desperately need these days.

Vaynblat’s voice is composed and knowing—that is, until she breaks out of her calm and collected demeanor, slipping into a thick Russian accent or pretending to be someone sneakily guzzling carne asada out of a mug on a Zoom call. She combines searing smarts and unabashed goofiness. Her droll delivery of increasingly silly jokes, like a call-and-response bit where the crowd guesses the veracity of odd workout classes, is the perfect packaging. [Full Review]

Clare Martin is a cemetery enthusiast and Paste’s assistant comedy editor. Go harass her on Twitter @theclaremartin.