The Show Report Saturday 26th
January 2013
Brixham, Devon
Before Gig
Tonight’s gig is 220 miles drive
from London. I have been promised free fish and chips at the venue before the
gig. Free food is not to be sniffed at. I count it as a bonus. I will have to be there early to take
advantage of this offer: give myself sufficient time to eat and then digest the food. Don’t want to go on
stage in a post meal slump. I am not going to be there on time. The weather is
terrible, the traffic is terrible, the roads down here are terrible. I think a
headlight may be out in the car or is it always this dark in January? I walk
through the door of the venue at 8 o’clock exactly. The gig starts at 8
o’clock. The venue is a fish and chip restaurant. There is a bouncer on the
door. What kind of shit kicks off in a fish and chip restaurant? Everybody in
the venue has already eaten fish and chips. I have not eaten my fish and chips.
I am on first (and by first I mean first after the compere, so second in layman’s
terms) and will therefore be denied my fish and chip priviledges till after I have been on stage. I
really want some food. All I have eaten in the last five hours is a cereal bar.
Low sugar does funny things to me. I get grumpy, I loose all perspective and
then get fixated on weird things. The gig promoter is keen to start. I mutter
something about not starting until I have a pen. She offers me a pen. “Not that
pen” I say “I need my pen.” Why I need my pen is not clear even to me. Has the
pen magic powers? I search through my pockets slowly like I am Columbo. I
imagine this is irritating to the promoter. The promoter gives me a pen. It is
very important I write something down. I write “ Cross Channel Ferry” on a handkerchief and lose
interest. I don’t do material about Cross Channel Ferries and I never talk
about them in my private life. The
compere starts the show. The audience seem “up for it” and energetic but I feel
like something might go wrong. Why the bouncer? What do they know that we
don’t? Maybe it will kick off and my food starved brain won’t have the
flexibility to deal with it. There is no room to stand in the room itself so I
stand outside in the street looking through the windows into the gig that I am
about to perform at. I feel like an unpopular kid banned from the party. I
smoke a cigarette in the hope that one of the 150 toxic chemicals will sharpen
my mind. The compere introduces
me. I have to walk in from the street to go on stage. As I do I try to think
about what I will say but all I can think is “Brixham sounds like Brixton” .
During Show
“I’ll be honest I only agreed to do
this gig because I thought I’d been booked to do Brixton in London.” Comes out
of my mouth. “I have written this entire set for Brixton. It’s too late to change
it. You people are going to have to get on board with the Brixton stuff. It’s
not my fault if you steal other places’ names and then change them slightly.
You are all effectively guilty of fraud. I am the real victim here.” This goes down well. But I should have
run with this further. I should have berated them for being an all white
audience. I should have accused them of being racist. I should have said you
wouldn’t get away with this racism in Brixton. I should have told then they
don’t have bouncers on fish and chips cafes in Brixton. In Brixton fish and
chip cafes you take your chances,
There is a table of ladies near the front. Some of them are from
London. They are excited that I
have mentioned somewhere they have heard of -“London”
I launch into the heroin material
and I recontextualise it for this gig. “they have this thing called Heroin in
Brixton. I don’t have time to explain the background.” Maybe I should always
contextualise my material for each individual gig and that would make it special
all the time? But maybe I should only sometimes contextualise it because I
would end up crowbaring in local references? Maybe there is no absolute right
answer to things?
I choose not to say “Cunt” to this
audience. I substitute “Prick” I stand by this decision even now. I feel me and
the audience have bonded well but I sense I would lose a little trust if I used
the worst swear word you can say.
Perhaps it is something to do with it being a café or perhaps its
because the house lights are up? Either way I feel like I would be swearing my
head off in someone’s living room.
This is a routine about beer containing 5% alcohol. I am currently really
enjoying this material because I am reworking a lot and adding in new bits. But
the ending bit about drink driving falls a bit flat. This usually goes well and
I am not sure if I delivered it badly? However I am starting to notice that
attitudes to drink driving vary a lot throughout the country. There is a fairly
laissez-faire attitude to drinking
driving in the provinces moving towards an outright pro drinking driving stance
in some parts. This is a good lesson against the illusion of universal
references. The idea that everyone will get this because everyone thinks x
about y. The moment there are genuine universal absolutes we are all done for
as comics. They will replace us with robots.
I drop in a newer bit on giving up
sugar. Only as I do the routine do I realize it isn’t actually about sugar at
all it is about dentists and the lies they tell. Fortunately the good bit is at
the end so hopefully the audience don’t notice. I have a great bit in scratch
cards now. It doesn’t have an ending yet. I need to write and ending.
Maybe I called the “Cunt” situation
wrong? Because I judge my routine about gay marriage to also be high risk too.
I suspect they may not like it but I choose to go ahead with it largely on the
basis that to not do it, would be to accuse them of homophobia. My judgement is
wrong. They love it. I can’t trust my judgement now. The next time it advises
me to do something I will ignore it and come a cropper. Then I will berate
,myself “why didn’t I listen to my judgement?” and then I will remember this incident where my
judgement fucked up so spectacularly.
After Gig
I have some fish and chips. I feel
better. I watch the rest of the show. I enjoy the rest of the show. I go home.
* One of the later comedians used
the word cunt and the audience loved it. Mind you the house lights we’re down
at that point whereas they were up when I was on. So was my judgement flawed a
second time? We will never know. It is this not knowing I have to put up with
everyday of my life while you plough on with certainty.
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