I’m often surprised by how well Glyn’s and my radio show holds together when I listen back to it, compared to how I feel as we were doing it.
That’s not to say I usually think it’s going badly, as I’m generally pretty happy with it, but in the case of this week’s show (which just went out), I didn’t feel in the right mindset at the time of recording, so was relieved to discover it flowed well when I heard it tonight.
The problem is I’m hypercritical, particularly about myself, so if I’m not firing on all cylinders, I'm the first to negatively judge what I (or we) have done. I’m my own worst critic, which may come as a surprise when you read what others have said about me; the bastards.
What I like about In Your Inner Ear is the freedom we have while we do it. There’s no-one to answer to, except ourselves, and I like to think we have good judgement. The format is simple, but seems to work. We draw up a pie chart, with the slices divvied out between us, and don’t give each other more than a vague gist of what we’re going to bring up, to keep our reactions fresh. It might sound a risky strategy from the outside looking in, but we’ve worked together long enough to trust each other and feel safe with where we’ll end up, and know how to keep each other in check.
|The plan for the first hour of tonight's In your Inner Ear.|
It’s great to not work to a script, as there’s no real right or wrong. I love the disposability of it, compared to the hard slog of writing a stage show. It’s great to get the chance to sit in a room with two of my favourite funny people for a couple of hours, which is more fun than working on my own. I’m more of a collaborator than a loner; if I can inspire laughter from someone I trust, I have faith that I’m doing the right thing, instead of having to sit in a room by myself, with only my brain for a sounding board.