Raul Kohli

He talks fast, pacing the edge of the stage with a bounce on his heels and a Newcastle accent dialed up for maximum projection. A setup will sound like standard weekend club talk about night buses or bad food before swerving directly into theology or the partition of India. When a crowd gets nervous after a line about racism, he does not back down or soothe the room. He pauses, flashes a wide grin, and points out their discomfort, daring everyone to catch up before speeding into the next punchline.

Kohli occupies a specific pocket of the circuit. He regularly works northern clubs that demand a high laugh count, but he also builds ambitious solo shows for the Edinburgh Fringe. Longform hours like All My Heroes Are Dead, In Jail, Or Touched Up Your Nan take apart political arguments without adopting the careful, subdued tone common on television panel shows.

His best material works because of the tension between his regional background and the academic weight of his subjects. He can explain imperial trade routes by framing them as neighborhood beef, making dense historical arguments sound like local gossip. When a set falters, it is usually because his rapid delivery outpaces the joke, cramming an entire lecture into five minutes without letting the premise settle.

Raised in Newcastle upon Tyne by an Indian Hindu father and a Singaporean Sikh mother, his upbringing is central to how he carries himself. He never acts like an outsider seeking permission. He treats British identity as local ground he already owns outright.