Show Report Thursday 20th
December 2012
Neath, near Swansea, Wales.
Before Gig.
This gig is a good 200 miles drive
from my home and another 200 miles back. That’s a 400 mile gig. Generally the
longer it takes me to get to a gig, the better it had better be just to justify
the long journey. What I do is take the number of laughs I get at a gig and
divide by the number of miles and see if I am happy with the ratio. Long
distance gigs have a lot of pressure on them. They have to perform well. While audiences think, “I hope
the comedians are good”. I am thinking, “I hope the gig is good”. The gig
better be shit hot tonight.
It is dark and I have been driving
from London on my own with nothing for company but a talking book. Talking
books make me sleepy. The dark makes me sleepy. So I swig coffee all of the
way. I have just cut out sugar from my coffee. It tastes disgusting without the
sugar. It doesn’t really energize me either; I suspect that all this time it’s
the sugar that has been giving me a hit and not the caffeine.
I arrive in the town and drive
through Neath looking for a parking space. I see gangs of young men standing
outside pubs. They are wearing checked shirts. I see other gangs of young men
walking down the street. They look violent. Perhaps they are heading to my gig? Perhaps they will not be
enjoying my comedy in a few hours time? Perhaps their future selves are even
now beating up a future Stephen Carlin?
When I walk into the venue I relax.
The venue is a pub that plainly has an established pedigree in live music. It
is suitably dingy. The carpet is actually threadbare. I can still smell stale
smoke that lingers from before the smoking ban. There isn’t even proper
lighting on the way to the toilets. I am in safe hands. I distrust venues that
are too gleaming; they clearly have something to hide. This gig obviously knows
what it’s doing. It is clearly an experienced gig. As an established live venue the building is well versed in
performance etiquette. The show is already in progress and consists of
interesting character comedy. The audience seem consummate audience members. It
is clearly down to me. I worry that my pure stand up comedy will be too
straight and conventional for this obviously comedy savvy crowd.
I have just drank a whole flask of
coffee, I feel flat. I need something to perk me up. I want to have a coke
before I go on stage but remember my sugar embargo. I order a lemonade at the
bar instead (I think lemonade also has sugar in it). They only have the cloudy
lemonade, the good stuff, the stuff that is actually made from lemons and
tastes of lemons. “Sorry about that” apologies the barman “We don’t have any
proper lemonade in.” Proper
lemonade – the stuff made from chemicals. This attitude reassures me further.
It reminds me of my Scottish heritage.
“Do twenty to thirty (minutes)”
says the promoter. “Thirty if it’s
going well. See how it goes. Twenty to thirty”
During Gig
As I take to the stage I notice
that the microphone lead has been wrapped around the mic stand. I spend the
first few moments of my set unwrapping the mic lead from the stand in a very in
expertise fashion. I think this makes me look fumbling and amateurish. Also it
may have been wrapped around for a good reason such as there is a bad
connection in the cable. So unwrapping it may also be a very bad idea. There is
a beam across the back of the stage that is lower than my head. While shorter
acts can stand underneath it with impunity I will bang my head if I move too
far back so I spend the first few moments also recalibrating my future moments
on stage to avoid this health and safety nightmare.
The first five minutes are under
par and in my head I blame being distracted by the microphone lead
situation. But listing back to the
recording I rushed the first five minutes. It’s not really until I do the
section on Uncle Liam that I feel the gig really takes off and also strangely
the pace and timing become right (maybe there is a connection? we will never
know?).
The “dumping a mate” material is
very sensitive to regional attitudes. It is generally lapped up in the south of
England, treated with suspicion in Scotland and out right hatred in Liverpool.
What do the Welsh think? At first they seem unsure of it and I wonder if I
should get out early but I preserve with and they come around to it.
I adlib a bit around the “Sex for
the 1st time stuff” not really conscious of what I am actually
saying. I say some new line that really works and some people in the audience
repeat it back to me. It is comedy gold. I must incorporate it into future
gigs. I better remember it. I forget it and the recording is too muffled at
that precise moment to reveal what it was. It’s gone forever. Fuck!
I resurrect some old Christmas
material because it is Christmas and everybody knows Christmas especially at
Christmas time. I do a section about Christmas cards. It turns out that most of
the audience do not send Christmas cards. I thought Christmas cards were
mainstream but they have gone niche. This is the problem with society. It can
never make up its mind about what it thinks and what it’s doing.
At this a man in the audience gets
up moves towards the stage and hands me a business card. It says “Seasons
Greetings. I am too tight to buy you a Christmas card etc”.” I ad lib around this for about five minutes.
I am conscious that I keep wanting to push the adlib further to see how far I
can go with it. I resist the urge to snap back into the material. It takes the
gig to a different level but I now worry that it will jar when I finally drop
back into material. (I now wish I had added this to the ad lib. This
impossibility of getting into material after a sustained period of successful
adlibbing).
I sometimes do a section on Joyce
Carol Vincent. It is in dubious taste at the best of times and at Christmas is
in even more dubious taste. It seems to divide audiences in unpredictable ways.
I never know if any particular audience will go for it. Also I have to do the
whole thing for it to work. I cannot just do bits of it. I have to do the whole
lot to get the pay off. So it is always a risk and that is what I like about
it. It appeals to the degenerate gambler in me. I do it. It pays off. I
therefore feel I have licence in future to take unnecessary risks.
After Gig
“I enjoyed that,” informs the
compere. “I’m impressed and I wasn’t expecting to be impressed.” This is one of the best things anyone
has ever said to me after a gig. Complimentary but from a position of totally
honesty.
I want to hang out and chat with
the audience but I also remember the 200 miles drive back home and I leave. I
wish this were my last gig before Christmas. It would be a great one to go out
on. But it isn’t.
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