Austin's Devon Walker on "SNL," new podcast
The big picture: "So many people are doing podcasts. Too many people," the Central Texas-raised comedian jokes. "There should be a review board who decides who gets to stay and who has to leave."
His is meant to stay, of course.
Driving the news: Walker's podcast, " My Favorite Lyrics," launched two weeks ago and revolves around his love of goofy rap lyrics and comedy.
He's since released two episodes, featuring comedian and "SNL" writer Alex English and comedian Petey DeAbreu.
New episodes upload on Tuesdays.
What they're saying: "God knows we don't need another podcast, but if I am going to be a comedian starting one, let's make it one that's about something near and dear to me," he tells Axios, adding that he hasn't seen another music podcast like his.
"As far as I know, that kind of podcast didn't exist yet."
Between the lines: It's a natural move for the Pflugerville native and Texas State alum, who cut his teeth at Cap City Comedy Club before joining the "SNL" cast in 2022 for the show's 48th season.
"He will absolutely be a guest at some point," he says.
The bottom line: For listeners tired of music podcasts taking themselves too seriously, Walker offers something unapologetically unserious — and "dumb," he promises in his promo.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
9 hours ago
- Yahoo
Bob Odenkirk thinks he was 'too hard' on 'SNL' as young writer: 'This show could be better'
Bob Odenkirk has found new respect for Saturday Night Live after leaving the show. While discussing Nobody 2 at San Diego Comic-Con 2025, the actor tells Entertainment Weekly that he has gained a better perspective on SNL in the years since he finished his tenure as a writer, which lasted from 1987 to 1991. Although he's previously said that he had a less-than-stellar view of SNL while he worked there, he now realizes that he judged the show too harshly. "I was too hard on the show," he says. "I had a lot of attitude when I got hired there, like, 'This show could be better, this show could be Monty Python, this should be more cutting edge, this should be more dangerous.' And I was frustrated by it not representing purely my point of view. I wanted it to be me, my show." Odenkirk now understands that his desire to personally transform the entire voice of SNL was foolhardy. "It's not my show! It's a show that is shared by everyone who's in that cast, and everyone who's in that writing staff, and it's shared by generations, and not one generation," he says. He continues, "Everybody in America watches it, and it's a reference point for everyone. I think the 50th just made me more aware [than] ever of the amazing work that's been done there." The Better Call Saul star also thinks that he got to write boundary-pushing comedy on a later project. "I think Mr. Show, the show I did with David Cross, I consider my effort to do something edgy and new and try to blast through some barriers and go to another level," he says. Odenkirk also admits that he didn't fully appreciate how SNL's lightning-fast weekly schedule makes its production so difficult. "It's a bigger challenge than I thought it was when I worked there," he explains. "When I worked there I was 25, I was like, 'C'mon, dammit! We can do better! This is easy!' And it literally was the years since I've left that I went, 'Wait a second, that show is almost impossible to do at all.'" Additionally, when asked if he'd consider hosting the show during its upcoming 51st season, Odenkirk responds strongly in the affirmative. "I would love that opportunity," he says. "I have mad respect for the effort of that show, and I would dream of being able to host."Though he's never hosted the show before, Odenkirk says that it remains within the realm of possibility. "There's been conversation about it," he explains. "They don't have me locked out. I'm friends with everybody there, and I know so many of the writers, and I know so many of the actors. It's just part of my life." Watch EW's full livestream of Friday's Comic-Con interviews above. Check out more of . Read the original article on Entertainment Weekly
Yahoo
11 hours ago
- Yahoo
Dan Aykroyd explains why he skipped 'SNL 50' special and reveals moment that made him emotional watching at home
Aykroyd is still a devoted viewer of "Saturday Night Live" to this day. After all these years, Dan Aykroyd still isn't ready for primetime, but in this case, it was his choice. Earlier this year, Aykroyd, who broke out as an original member of the Saturday Night Live cast in the 1970s, was noticeably absent from the SNL 50 anniversary special. But he's still close to his Studio 8H roots and is even releasing a forthcoming graphic novel that continues the story of the Blues Brothers, one of his most iconic SNL characters. As it turns out, Aykroyd loves the NBC sketch show so much that he actively chose to sit out the 50th so that he could watch the special without interruption from home. "I wanted to be at home and I wanted to watch the show beginning to end," Aykroyd reveals to Entertainment Weekly while stopping by our video studio at Comic-Con 2025. "I knew if i was there, I'd be in a dressing room, I'd be working," he continues. "I wanted to see it live. I'm a fan of the show today, and I watch it all the time. I love these new players; I think they're just great. I just wanted to see and live nostalgically with my family in my own home, eating my own popcorn." Several of Aykroyd's fellow original cast members were present, however, including Laraine Newman and Jane Curtin. Newman even did a sketch with more recent alum Pete Davidson in which she reminisced about her time on the show, while Davidson reprised his recurring character of Chad, responding "Okay" to Newman's heartfelt memories. Newman and Curtin also were responsible for one of the night's most moving moments, holding up a photograph of the late Gilda Radner during the cast's goodbyes at the end of the show. "Lorraine's piece definitely," Aykroyd responds when asked about what segment of the show made him most emotional. "That was beautiful. That was wonderful." Aykroyd also reminisces about his time making The Blues Brothers alongside blues legends that he grew up admiring. He remembers his time filming with Aretha Franklin in the diner in particular, noting that he was incredibly nervous to be sharing the screen with her. "As soon as she started to sing, I got a feeling in my stomach," he shares. "When I stood up off the stool, I thought my legs were going to buckle.""Jake and Elwood are still in jail in 1997, and now they're trophies and no one wants to let them go," Aykroyd teases of the book, which hits shelves on Oct. 7. "And the story picks up from there." Aykroyd also weighed in on Dylan O'Brien's portrayal of him in last year's Saturday Night. Watch his full interview in the livestream above. Check out more of . Read the original article on Entertainment Weekly
Fox Sports
12 hours ago
- Fox Sports
Hulk Hogan descended upon American culture at exactly the time it was ready for him: the 1980s
Associated Press The opening chords of Rick Derringer's hard-rock guitar would play over the arena sound system. Instantly, 20,000 Hulkamaniacs — and many more as wrestling's popularity and stadium size exploded — rose to their feet in a frenzy to catch a glimpse of Hulk Hogan storming toward the ring. His T-shirt half-ripped, his bandanna gripped in his teeth, Hogan faced 'em all in the 1980s — the bad guys from Russia and Iran and any other wrestler from a country that seemed to pose a threat to both his WWF championship and, of course, could bring harm to the red, white and blue. His 24-inch pythons slicked in oil, glistening under the house lights, Hogan would point to his next foe — say 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper or Jake 'The Snake' Roberts (rule of thumb: In the 80s, the more quote marks in a name, the meaner the wrestler) — all to the strain of Derringer's patriotic 'Real American.' In Ronald Reagan's 1980s slice of wishful-thinking Americana, no one embodied the vision of a 'real American' like Hulk Hogan. 'We had Gorgeous George and we had Buddy Rogers and we had Bruno Sammartino,' WWE Hall of Famer Sgt. Slaughter said Friday. 'But nobody compared at that time compared to Hulk Hogan. His whole desire was to be a star and be somebody that nobody every forgot. He pretty much did that.' He saw himself as an all-American hero Hogan, who died Thursday in Florida at age 71, portrayed himself as an all-American hero, a term that itself implies a stereotype. He was Sylvester Stallone meets John Wayne in tights — only fans could actually touch him and smell the sweat if the WWF came to town. Hogan presented as virtuous. He waved the American flag, never cheated to win, made sure 'good' always triumphed over 'evil.' He implored kids around the world: 'Train, say your prayers, eat your vitamins." Hogan did it all, hosting 'Saturday Night Live,' making movies, granting Make-A-Wish visits, even as he often strayed far from the advice that made him a 6-foot-8, 300-plus pound cash cow and one of the world's most recognizable entertainers. His muscles looked like basketballs, his promos electrified audiences — why was he yelling!?! — and he fabricated and embellished stories from his personal life all as he morphed into the personification of the 80s and 80s culture and excess. In the not-so-real world of professional wrestling, Hulk Hogan banked on fans believing in his authenticity. That belief made him the biggest star the genre has ever known. Outside the ring, the man born Terry Gene Bollea wrestled with his own good guy/bad guy dynamic, a messy life that eventually bled beyond the curtain, spilled into tabloid fodder and polluted the final years of his life. Hogan — who teamed with actor Mr. T in the first WrestleMania — was branded a racist. He was embroiled in a sex-tape scandal. He claimed he once contemplated suicide. All this came well after he admitted he burst into wrestling stardom not on a strict diet of workouts and vitamins, but of performance-enhancing drugs, notably steroids. The punches, the training, the grueling around-the-world travel were all real (the outcomes, of course, were not). So was the pain that followed Hogan as he was temporarily banished from WWE in his later years. He was the flawed hero of a flawed sport, and eventually not even wrestling fans, like a bad referee, could turn a blind eye to Hogan's discretions. His last appearance fizzled Hogan's final WWE appearance came this past January at the company's debut episode on Netflix. Hogan arrived months after he appeared at the Republican National Convention and gave a rousing speech -- not unlike his best 1980s promos -- in support of Donald Trump. Just a pair of the 1980s icons, who used tough talk and the perceived notion they could both 'tell it like it is,' to rise to the top. Only wrestling fans, especially one in the home of the Los Angeles event, had enough of Hogan. 'He was full-throated, it wasn't subtle, his support for Donald Trump,' said ESPN writer Marc Raimondi, who wrote the wrestling book 'Say Hello to the Bad Guys." 'I think that absolutely hurt him.' He didn't appear for an exercise in nostalgia or a vow that if he could just lace up the boots one more time, he could take down today's heels. No, Hogan came to promote his beer. Beer loosely coded as right-wing beer. No song was going to save him this time. Fed up with his perceived MAGA ties and divisive views, his racist past and a string of bad decisions that made some of today's stars also publicly turn on him, Hogan was about booed out of the building. This wasn't the good kind of wrestling booing, like what he wanted to hear when he got a second act in the 1990s as 'Hollywood' Hulk Hogan when controversy equaled cash. This was go-away heat. 'I think the politics had a whole lot to do with it,' Hogan said on 'The Pat McAfee Show' in February. Hogan always envisioned himself as the Babe Ruth of wrestling. On the back of Vince McMahon, now entangled in his own sordid sex scandal, Hogan turned a staid one-hour Saturday morning show into the land of NFL arenas, cable TV, pay-per-view blockbusters, and eventually, billon-dollar streaming deals. Once raised to the loftiest perch in sports and entertainment by fans who ate up everything the Hulkster had to say, his final, dismal appearance showed that even Hulk Hogan could take a loss. 'The guy who had been the master at getting what he wanted from the crowd for decades, he lost his touch,' Raimondi said. 'Very likely because of the things he did in his personal and professional life.' But there was a time when Hogan had it all. The fame. The championships. Riches and endorsements. All of it not from being himself, but by being Hulk Hogan. 'There's people in this business that become legends," Sgt. Slaughter said. 'But Hulk became legendary.'
