How Did it Go?

I sometimes find it hard to hold an accurate representation in my head of how a gig went.

Tonight was a good case in point. I did a five minute spot at a new material night. I was second on in the second half, following one of the most hate-filled acts I've ever seen. The MC even introduced him as such. It was a character act, well-observed and well-delivered, yet almost impossible to follow, with such a short set. I became a space-filler while people got their breath back. I know my place. 

If I'd realised before, I would have planned a more attacking, energised set. As it was, I'd decided to go with some of my gentler, story-based material. In the few minutes before going on, I mulled over whether to adapt. I decided to stick with it. My intention had been to work some newer stuff in, so work it in I must. 

As I stood at the mic, I became aware of the vacuum I needed to fill. The audience seemed quiet and tired, and I felt like I wasn't getting the story across. I knew the reason for it (the previous act had been shouting in people's faces how he'd gargle their cum, while I was talking about my childhood hatred of the Bleep Test. It couldn't be more ying-yang). 'Fuck it', I thought. I'd been building up to this five minutes all day, for it to be scuppered by my own morale, and my position in the line-up. 

Thankfully, I made a point of recording it. The promoter edits together a video of your set for a fiver, which is invaluable - but because I'm aware of the time frame to get my show together, I thought I'd document it myself as well. I just listened back to it on the train. It got laughs in most of the places I wanted. It got a good reaction, considering the bile it followed. 

If only I paid more attention at the time, and didn't cut myself up. It's bizarre how I seem to be capable of timing laughs, while also not being aware of them. At least I'd done what I'd set out to do, and got a reasonable response for perhaps my gentlest bit of material. I also ate some exceptional Pad Thai at the slipperiest-floored restaurant of all time, by Putney Bridge. That said, I also had to get a taxi from Stevenage to Hitchin, because a train in front of us had broken down. Overall, it was a win / lose / draw situation.

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