Edinburgh Festival - 4th August 2013

4th August 2013  Pleasance Court Yard 

5th show in the run

Length 45 minutes.

I have forgotten exactly what a bad gig at the Edinburgh festival feels like. That inevitable  whiff of hostage situation that emerges between you and the audience (except sometimes real life hostages start to develop a rapport with their captors). That initial hope that things maybe able to be turned around. The eventual realisation that it is not going to get better for either party but like a bad marriage you plough on out of misplaced sense of duty. 

That shared belief that the other party doesn’t know what the hell they are doing. The moments when you preview the upcoming material in your head, listing all the routines that the audience are about to not enjoy. Flashbacks except from the future. It hasn’t happened yet and already I am traumatised by it. The dwindling faith of the audience as they increasing come to the conclusion, that I will never pull a rabbit from the hat. The conviction I have that even when I do it will be mistaken as a pile of shit, after all I am now viewed as a man who doesn’t know what the hell I am doing. And yet it didn’t have to be this way. It was all going so well at one minute in... 

Before Gig

I feel more relaxed today than at any point during the fringe. Today is the first day I have had nothing else on other than my show. I have a sauna at lunchtime. I try to get into a play about Gordon Brown- it is sold out. I have more time at home to run through the material and practice facial movements in the mirror. I practice the opening of the back stage, finding new ways of saying it. I really feel it is coming together. The audience sound up beat as they come in. The microphones are working perfectly today. I don’t need a piss. My legs ache from the Edinburgh hills.

During Gig

I say good evening. I ask the audience how they are. A man nods, a man belatedly says “good”. It provides a jumping off point for some banter. This is probably the best opening of the run although I am not doing material yet. Two guys come in late, the first latecomers of the run. They apologise for being late. They had just come from a gig by the “Red Bastard” . I misunderstand this and think they are saying “some bastard kept them late” more banter so far so good. We clear up the confusion. They say “the red bastard was good, you better be fucking good.” They mean this playfully but it comes out as aggressive and I treat it in the spirit it was intended instead of treating in the tone it came out as. In hindsight I should hammer them at this point. They have challenged my authority but I feel I have the audience onside and instead I play with it too much. Of course, I am fucking good, haven’t you seen how the others shows have gone? Obviously they haven’t. Didn’t you see me at Joke Thieves last night? No they didn’t. Didn’t you see me showcase last night? Apparently not. But this is what I am thinking. It is my room. Nothing to worry about. So i go into material, i start the show and I can see now this looks like a retreat. The start just doesn’t work. The “but its the 1970s line”, always lands. It doesn’t tonight. Shit. Trouble. “His wife had four jobs”, always kills, tonight tepid response. I don’t worry, I think I can get traction, but as I move from routine to routine it doesn’t build.

At about ten minutes the two late comers leave. They are polite as they go. It is obviously a verdict on me. I am glad they didn’t hang it out. There is a noticeable lightening in the mood as they go. There is relief. The gig rallies briefly. But after a brief Indian Summer it slumps again. There are two couples who are enjoying bits of it and if only I can get a few more of those people I can build this up. I really try to work on eye contact and making it as coversational in tone and as personal as possible, but I can’t hook other people in. I am sweating now. It is hot but am I worried? Probably. I get some routines in the wrong order and this can only be pressure. I play it professional to the end. I keep trying to make it work. I keep acting as everything is Ok. I don’t think there is anything to be gained by admitting the obvious. I keep it polite. Do they think I actually think it is OK? Do they think I am mad. 

I don’t think there is much point breaking down material in this report. The gig was so fucked little can be gained from moving from routine to routine and comparing them. 

After Gig

I don’t think I could take another gig like this at the festival. It would kill me. There was no press in tonight. Thank God. No one need ever know about this gig.