Behind the Fringe - Edinburgh Festival Series 2

Piccadilly Comedy Club 9^th May 2013

This year’s first Edinburgh Preview

Before Gig

Tonight is my first preview for my new Edinburgh Festival Show “Gambling Man”. So no polished finely honed routines tonight. 100% brand new stuff. 100% raw rookie material. And as I move towards the Edinburgh Festival the new set will start to gel but tonight is the first preview. Tonight is the most un-gelled this show is ever going to be. Tonight I feel a stranger to my own material. I feel like the groom on the night of an arranged marriage. I think I may have glanced this material across a crowded room but I’ve never really been alone with it. I will need a tolerant, forgiving audience this evening. God I hope they’ve never seen stand up comedy before. I hope they are not expecting professionalism. I stumble on to stage with a notebook. A heap of uncharted new material. I scarcely know where to begin. 

During Gig

This women is brilliant, she is amazing, she is the best ever. This women sitting at the back row, I think she is the best audience member I have ever had. For starters she not only laughs but she laughs in the right places - that is a rarer quality than you may think. Some audience members feel the need to fill any pause with a laugh. Tsk, tsk. Not her no, she understands a thing or two about punchlines and set-ups. God this was meant to be. She has timing, wonderful impeccable timing. She never tramples on my punchlines.  And she laughs for the correct duration of time. Not too short to leave a bald silence but not too long to muck up my rhythm. I think she may have done this before.  And the quality of the laugh is pure gold. She does not have a sarcastic laugh, or a annoying laugh or worst of all a funny laugh. I hate funny laughs.  Laughs should never be funny in themselves. People start laughing at their laugh instead of my material. Her laugh is warm, it’s infectious it spreads along the back row like a pandemic.

And she’s brave too. She happily laughs when no one else is laughing. Sometimes this solitary confidence can alienate other audience members who’ll refuse to join in out of pure stubbornness. But she charms them with her laughs: they want to join in too. But she actually gets the material, that’s the thing. SHE. ACTUALLY.  GETS. IT. I can see her face, I can read her body language, she is with me every step of the way, she follows the logic of every step, she correctly anticipates the next move. There is that little conspiratorial look that she gives me, she knows where the material is going. Even when I stumble she forgives it and picks things up again when I get back on track. To be honest she is carrying this audience, if it wasn’t for her I’d be dead in the water. But she keeps the faith and she is their leader. Where she goes they follow. Thank God she’s here. There are around thirty people in the audience, some of them tourists. I don’t think the audience knows quite what is going on. It is some approximation of a comedy routine, but something’s not right. Why is that Scotsman on stage reading off bits of paper and why does he sometimes um and ahh as if he’s not quite sure what he’s saying? Why do routines suddenly trail off to nothing and why is there no thread to his thoughts? Why does he grasshopper from one subject to the next without any links? This, I imagine is what they’re thinking. So thank God for my best audience member ever. She is so into the routines that she is whispering to the person next to her. That is how much she is engaging with new material. It speaks to her and she can’t help speaking to the person next to her a little bit. There we go another whisper. That’s fine I don’t think anyone else in the audience can here her whispering. It’s slightly off putting to me but the audience cannot hear it. Yes I think they can actually hear it. Is she whispering or is she actually talking to her neighbour? Has it got louder or is it just me? I wish she wouldn’t do that. It’s rude, it is distracting to the audience and off putting to the comedian. At least if you are going to chat please heckle and then it is out in the open and I can deal with it. Ah she is heckling now. She has pre-emptied the end of a routine, the routine is still born. No point ploughing on with it. I admit my defeat on that one. She covers her mouth like a naughty kid. She knows she blew that routine to Kingdom Come. At least she has learned her lesson now. Except she hasn’t because she is at it again. Every jokes a spring board for a conversation as far as she is concerned. This is starting to irritate me. I mention something about Gordon Brown being the most successful failure I know. Now she’s off on one now, discussing the banking crisis. I try to riff along but it falls flat. She knows she killed that routine stone dead. Don’t claim you were trying to help me. Don’t claim you were trying to help me. She says it. Apparently she was trying to help me.

Oh for Fucks sake!!! You are the worst audience member ever! I don’t mind heckling when I know the material and I can divert off script. But this is different. This is an Edinburgh preview, the purpose of which is to try out new material, which I can’t get around trying out because you are monopolising the airtime. Now I am annoyed. She is eating into my time like a giant PacMan. I wish I were one of the PacMan ghosts that could attack her. Now she is on about something about a plane crash. “I wish you were in a plane crash” I retort. But there is too much on an edge to it. The audience knows I am annoyed. And she is surprised, a little hurt. The rest of the audience pulls back a bit. It’s awkward. It’s overkill. I went in too hard. I taken a sledgehammer to kill a fly. At least I’ve shut her up but at what price? No she isn’t shut up. She’s back again, wounded but alive. I have failed to neutralise the target while I am now guilty of a war crime. It is the worst of both worlds. I went in too hard and alienated the audience but I didn’t shut her up. She is the worst ever. I hope she never comes near a comedy club again. Why did I like her?

After Gig

Total waste of time. Only tried out about half the stuff I wanted to. Now I am back to liking her again. At least she tried.

Archive - 15th Jan 2013 - The Stand Glasgow

Show Report Tuesday 15^th January 2013

The Stand Comedy Club – Glasgow

Before Show

Red Raw is the name of the new act night at the Stand Comedy Clubs. It is the first rung on the ladder for aspiring new comedians north of the border. Every comedian from Scotland has played Red Raw. Kevin Bridges has played Red Raw. Daniel Sloss has played Red Raw.  Everybody that has ever done comedy in Scotland has played Red Raw. I have never played Red Raw. I missed out on earning my Red Raw stripes because I started stand up comedy in London.

Tonight however, I am putting that right. I am playing Red Raw in Glasgow for the first time.  Ahead of a weekend of gigs at the Stand in Edinburgh I want to try out new material. Although Red Raw is technically a show for newer acts, more experienced acts frequently use it to try out new material. Basically it’s where less experienced acts can pitch their best material against more experienced acts doing new stuff in the hope that that provides some kind of level playing field.

I am pretty relaxed tonight. I don’t need to worry. I know it is the first time I have played this gig but seriously I probably have more experience than all the other acts on the bill added together. And how many people will there be in the audience anyway? Fifty if you’re lucky. How many people come to watch a new act night? Maybe forty. And it is a Tuesday night and the entry fee is £2 (£1 for students) so what the hell can the audience be expecting? – all thirty of them.  I have nothing to worry about. I don’t mean to be complacent but this is going to be easy. I just have to remember what I want to say and hold my nerve if something doesn’t work. Just stare them down. Tuesday night audiences are easy to bully. They’re not like the feral bastards you get on Friday nights. If something doesn’t work, dare them not to like it. There won’t be that many of them anyway. Twenty tops. This is going to be a stress free experience. I don’t want to conjure up phrases involving “walk” and “park” but this is how I’m feeling.

I arrive at the Glasgow Stand. The place is rammed. The sign says sold out. I have trouble getting in the door. It is standing room only. There must be 250 people in the place and there is an energy and excitement that doesn’t say Tuesday night to me. How the hell can this have happened? “Frankie’s on” a member of staff informs me. “Frankie’s doing some new stuff” mutters a comedian. Somebody else just says “Frankie” by way of an explanation. Frankie of course is Frankie Boyle, who has now ascended to the level of single name celebrity status like Madonna or Kylie. He is just “Frankie”. I don’t think I can ever be “Stephen”  there are too many of us.

Big name acts invariably keep it secret when they drop into to try out new material but word always leaks out.  This audience are here for Frankie Boyle.

“You’re on next Stephen”

“Next? What do you mean next?”

“You were told to be here for 9.30 right?”

“Yes so naturally I assume that meant I wasn’t on till at least 10 O’clock. You never tell a comedian to be there for the right time.”

“Why not?”

“Because of the buffer zone”

“What buffer zone?”

“The buffer zone. It is a thing in comedy. You tell comedians to be there earlier than you actually need them.”

“I have never heard of that.”

“It’s universal.

“Well I have never heard of it. Have you guys heard of the buffer zone?”

“It doesn’t matter whether they guys have heard of the buffer zone. You can’t take a vote on it. It’s not a matter of opinion. It’s a matter of indisputable fact like gravity or gamma rays.”

“Well you’re on now.”

Great! I am on now. I haven’t had enough time to mentally prepare. This is bullshit. Telling me to be here for the right time. There are too many people here too. Why didn’t they tell me it would be rammed? They didn’t tell me it wouldn’t be but I think there was an unspoken understanding. I didn’t prepare for 250 people in my head. I need to recalibrate. I don’t have time to recalibrate. They’ll want polished routines. I don’t have polished routines. They’ll want people off of the telly. I’m not off of the telly. I have new stuff that is patchy. They’ll hate this. Maybe they will love this. Don’t judge them Stephen. Why not? They can judge me. Two can play at that game. I can’t remember the new stuff in detail.

During Gig

I tend to bookend the new material with tried and tested stuff. Opening and closing with an old joke but ironically tonight the tried and tested stuff works least well.

I do some new material about speaking to ugly people on twitter. It seems a bit harsh the way I set it up and I realize as I’m saying it the middle should really be the beginning of the routine. I am getting into it all wrong. There is good comedy in there but that routine is all arse about face. This happens a lot. Routines can have messy births and come out in the wrong order. But lesson learned. I will rewrite it for the next time.

I feel things really pick up when I am talking about gambling and I hit my stride. This is the advantage of talking about a subject I have researched thoroughly. I ask a rhetorical question about playing the lottery and a woman answers me explaining something about some accountants she knows who are rich. She has a very husky voice.  I hone in on this. I tell her she has a sexy voice and I like it very much. Her husband pipes up saying that was one of the major attractions. They seem a lot of fun and under normal circumstances I would pursue this line of enquiry further. But I only have ten minutes and I really want to get through this new stuff. I have to close them down. I pretty much say what I did just say, namely that I don’t have time and ordinarily we would be bantering like nobody’s business. This supplies a big laugh. What the fuck? I was saying a fact. Not a joke. Maybe the truth is always funny. I get about 90% of the way through the gambling stuff and I forget the end of the routine. The end is invariably the best bit. I can’t remember it. I try to tread water for a few seconds hoping it will leap back into my brain, but it won’t come. I tell the audience that I can’t remember the end and they don’t laugh at this. Now they hate the truth. I tell them they should like my confession because it is the truth but they still don’t like that- and that was the truth. Then I remember the end and I do the ending and the audience go with it and like it. The ending material isn’t even based on fact. It is made up. Now the audience like lies. There moral compass is all over the place.

I do some material about American gun sprees but I won’t say anything on it here. I don’t have time. I don’t want to talk about it but in a neutral way. Nothing bad happened I just don’t wish to talk about.

After Gig

The woman with the sexy voice approaches me after the gig. She wants a photograph with her and her friends. She is a very amusing and chatty. She is good fun to chat to. I know she would have been great to banter with on stage. She casually informs me that her voice is the result of treatment for throat cancer. I apologise to her for any offence I could have caused but she bats the apology away. She’s glad I like her voice and says rather flippantly “at least something good has come out of the cancer.” 

I admire this woman. Many times people in audiences have taken offence at what I consider to be nothing – particularly when they are offended on behalf of other people. “Oh you can’t say that” etc. And yet she had grounds to be upset or offended but isn’t and accepts the comments in the spirit in which they were intended. She also mentioned the cancer to me off stage because she knew that mentioning it during the show would screw me up. See I knew she was a great heckler. She promises to come and watch me again. I hope she does and I hope she heckles me too.

Archive 18th October 2012

Another from the archive

Show Report Thursday 18th October 2012

Venue – Hook, Hampshire

This is the first ever comedy gig at this venue. Tonight is the pilot

night. The venue owners are trying out a comedy night to see if it is

something this wish to do on a regular basis. I am to be the first act

on (after the compere) so the future of this gig is entirely in my

hands (plus the other acts, and the compere and a myriad of other

factors).

Before Gig

It is entirely possible to fall out with either individual audience

members or an entire audience before ever taking to the stage. As the

compere kicks off tonight’s show it is clear they are a good audience.

They are “up for it”.  They already feel warmed up. They are laughing

loudly and generously.

So all the more galling that there are two troublemakers guys in the

front row, in full view of everyone, openly texting on their phones-

probably to each other. They resist all urging by the compere to put

the phones away. There is an air of arrogant defiance about them like

they want the night to fail. I imagine theses guys do something in the

Financial Service Industry. I have no specific evidence to back this

up. They may in fact work for the NHS or a homeless shelter. Why do

all arseholes have to work in something unethical?

I am running through a cycle in my head of imagining how they will

misbehave, planning responses, getting annoyed, realizing I am getting

too annoyed, calming down, then looking at them again, getting annoyed

again.

During Gig

The gig starts well. The audience are really up for it. The

troublemaker guys aren’t any trouble. They have put their phones away

and they don’t shout out. They're not enjoying the gig in any active

sense. They stare, they whisper to each other, they make a point of

not laughing when everybody else is. They try and stare me out. Just

low-level gamesmanship stuff nothing the audience can detect.

I say rhetorically “People drink a lot in Hampshire right?” “No” one

guys says very assertively from the back. This provides a good couple

of minutes of adlibbing around the idea that he is a spokesperson from

the audience and that he needed to have “a line on this” I later

regret not ad-libbing further and seeing how far I could have pushed

it.

When I performed the drinking beer section, I ad-lib a bit around

Jimmy Savile and this receives the biggest laugh of my set so far. He

is very topical at the moment and audience always give topical

references an extra 25% (my estimated figures) laughter just for being

current. At this point one of the troublemakers gets up and walks out

(I presume to the toilet). Now unlike some comedians I don’t think

having a full bladder is, of itself, a crime. So I don’t tend to pick

on people for going to the toilet. If they leave from a prominent

position in the audience then I tend to reference it but not in a

judgemental way…but tonight is different. Something about their

previous behaviour and concerns about possible future behaviour and

Jimmy Savile coalesces in my mind and I go into an attack. I suggest

it is suspicious that he had left at a bit of material about Jimmy

Savile. I go on to suggest that the audience troublemaker is in fact a

paedophile. (There would be no controversy in suggesting Jimmy Savile

is a pedophile. Most people's views have settled on that now). Only

later do I realize that I am trying to make sure the troublemaker

doesn’t return and cause more disruption. He doesn’t return. At a

later section about having sex for the first time. The second

troublemaker also leaves. I don’t really lay into him. I realize that

he, like his mate is not coming back. But why do they always leave at

bits about sex.

There are other disruptions. A man’s mobile goes off. His ring tone

plays “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly”. He is suitably embarrassed

about this and after dealing with the guys in the front row. I am

benevolent about his mistake.

The rest of the gig is hugely enjoyable

After Gig

The two front row troublemaker guys never return to their seats. They

leave the gig and do not return for the second half. I believe I have

called it right and have help remove a nuisance from the gig. I

hubristically boast about this to other acts. Only on reflection later

do I realize that both the guys walked out a big laughs thus leaving

at a moment when I wouldn’t be speaking. This could have been

calculated to cause minimum disruption. Perhaps they realized the

night was not for them and they left as low key as they could from a

prominent position? Or maybe they were pricks? Who knows?

A man approaches me after my set to have his photograph taken with me.

He is Latvian and is very jolly despite only being in his twenties (I

tend to associate jolliness with middle age or older). He tells me he

enjoyed my set immensely. Apparently he has spent some time living in

Scotland and that during that time he came to appreciate the Scottish

sense of humour. Without this time in Scotland, he fears, he wouldn’t

get my jokes. He then spends several minutes encouraging me to gig in

Latvia, “you should go to Latvia and do gigs” before adding “they will

not understand your sense of humour there”.

A Latvian woman approaches with a camera and clearly wants a

photograph. It becomes clear that she wants me to take a photograph of

her on her own. I explain this is not right. Clearly, I need to be in

the photograph. Why does she want a photograph of herself on her own?

That makes no sense. She could get that anytime. No, I have to be in

the photograph. She is unsure. She hesitates like I may have

blundered. The bar manager approaches and backs me up. “You should be

in the photograph too”. She eventually agrees to go along with this

novel scheme although she clearly feels we have both made a colossal

mistake. I smile for what seems about ten minutes as I wait for the

manager to take the shot. Eventually just as my smile is collapsing

due to the earth’s gravitational force he snaps the shot. Now the

woman examines the photograph on her camera phone. There is some

extended period of consultation. She is clearly unhappy with the

photograph but too polite to say anything. “Do you want to take it

again?” I offer. “I’m afraid somebody wasn’t smiling”, the manager

adds. We will never find out who that somebody was. I think it was me.

We take the photograph again. I make sure I am smiling this time.