Skip to main content

The Final Countdown.


It’s official: at time of going to press, I only have two Edinburgh shows left.

It’s strange to finally be at a point on the calendar I almost never thought I’d reach. Many’s the time I’d look at the wall planner in Glyn’s and my office, scan my eyes over August and think I’d never get a show together in time for it, let alone reach the end of the run. It was the cause of fear, self-doubt and anxiety on and off from the moment I decided to go to Scotland to do my first solo Edinburgh run; now it’s nearly over, those feelings have been replaced with pride and even a little faith in my own ability - though like any performer, my insecurities haven’t left completely.

In a strange way, as I’ve got more tired over the last week or so, my show's become more enjoyable. I play with the material a darn sight more than I did a few weeks back. Today was a case in point, when a slightly older, quieter contingent to the audience needed constant cajoling to keep them on board. For the first few minutes, I kept being distracted by a woman who was constantly looking in a large paper bag on the seat next to her and fiddling with the contents. On questioning her, I found out the bag was full of maps, which wasn’t what I'd expected. She didn’t mind my constant teasing and was good sport.

Conversely, I found myself repeatedly drawn in by a man whose eyes were boring into my soul, seemingly hating my every word and movement. I’d spoken to him briefly outside the venue before the gig, when he snappily asked Steve and my flyerer Ewan, “Are you the queue?”
“No, we’re not,” I replied.”What show are you looking for?”
“It’s at Venue 88. Are you the queue?”
As I walked huffily up the hill towards the entrances to the caves, I silently prayed he wasn't there for me, though I knew he inevitably would be.

After the show, I went for lunch with Steve, popped into a whisky bar for a 'wee dram' and then saw him off at the station, as he was going home today. As I left him, I felt my mood and enthusiasm drop. I’d remained upbeat, thanks to the constant stream of visitors this week, but now they’ve gone, I’m conscious of just how long I’ve been up here and how tired I’ve become. Each day, I wake up with scarcely any energy, and while I manage to get my adrenalin going for the hour of my show, it’s all the walking past people on the street with no spacial awareness or avoiding flyerers that has finally taken its toll. There’s only so long you can keep momentum going before you long to wind things down. Don’t get me wrong: I’ll make the most of the last two shows, but when they’re done, I’ll return to my stasis chamber willingly, to consider my next move.

Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...

Comedy That's Worth a Letch.

Today, I nipped to Letchworth to meet with illustrator (and one-time - two-time - comedy poet) Mushybees, to discuss an event Mostly Comedy will act as surrogate parents to as part of Letchworth’s Arts Takeover in a couple of weeks. Months ago he got into contact to see if we’d be up for co-organising a comedy stage as part of Letchworth’s weekend of arts-based attractions in July; something I’d provisionally said yes to, before things got hectic in the lead-up to Edinburgh and we didn’t take it any further. Despite not getting down to the nitty-gritty straight away, we managed to pull a line-up together in a back-and-forth of emails yesterday, leading to me getting Glyn’s blessing and us deciding we’d officially go ahead with it (whatever ‘officially’ means in this context). In reality, it’s not complicated: from 12pm until 6pm-ish on the 22 nd July, Glyn, Mushybees and I will host four Edinburgh previews from four acts (including me), before Nor...

"Heh Heh Heh Helection Half Hour."

Thursday morning’s a time I look forward to, as the episode of Hancock’s Half Hour that was broadcast that week becomes available to listen to on iPlayer, and consequently becomes the soundtrack to my bath. Today was no different, with this week’s instalment being the frighteningly appropriate ‘The Election Candidate'. In the episode, Tony is convinced to stand for parliament as a celebrity candidate (*cough* Donald Trump *cough*) and while it’s definitely one of the best - though let’s face it, pretty much all programmes that exist have stood the test of time wonderfully - my favourite moment has to be when Hancock is asked who’ll he’ll vote for, before he’s convinced to through his own hat in the ring. “Neither of them,” he replies. “I shall show my contempt by going down to the polling booth, taking my form, crossing both their names out and writing ‘get knotted’ in”. (Some things never change.) The episode was first broadcas...