London, Brighton, Hitchin, Peckham.


Today's been a good day, but a busy one, with a gig in Brighton to round things off.

I caught the train into London this afternoon to meet a potential PR for Edinburgh at The Ivy (he said, as if this was an everyday occurrence). Before arriving, I'd had visions of being turned away at the door for being insufficiently important; I was so unsure as to the club's rules for admittance that I meant to ask a friend who'd been in The Mousetrap at the theatre over the road if I needed to wear some sort of blazer-and-cravat combo or learn a special handshake. Thankfully, i needn't have worried, as a mention of the chap I was meeting didn’t provoke confusion or a punch in the face; in my life, you can't ask for more than that. 

The meeting was encouraging - and that, combined with me having watched a video of my set from last week's Mostly before leaving for London and enjoying the content gave me a much-needed shot-in-the-arm of confidence to carry me through the rest of the day. I made my way back to King's Cross to catch the train from St Pancras to Brighton feeling strangely positive for a man of my disposition; it was nice to know I had a long enough journey ahead to relax for a bit, read my copy of Private Eye and listen to this week's (excellent) episode of The Missing Hancocks that I'd had the foresight to download to my phone before leaving the house; it helps that the journey to Brighton is one I'm very familiar with; it doesn't feel that long to me now I've done it so often. 

(I'm rambling.)

Too easy.

I arrived in Brighton just after 6pm, with enough time to find the venue and sit in the park opposite, so I could flick through my notes before going in. I walked upstairs to find the gig's host and her techie in the room, setting up. We chatted briefly about each other's forthcoming Brighton Fringe shows before the room filled up (with more acts than audience) and the show kicked off. 

Brighton: the Meaning of Bowie's Life.

I closed the first half with ten minutes of an equal mix of new & old material, which went down well for a room filled with more comics than real punters. I said a quick thank you to the host and then sprinted out the door to the train. This sprint wound up being more ambitious than I’d first thought, as it was mostly uphill with a large flight of steps at the end of it. Still, it was worth it, as I managed to catch an early enough train to be home before midnight; all in all, it was a successful day, even If the burst of exercise towards the end of it proved I’m not as fit as I thought.

Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Image
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
Read more

Stevenage: A (Tiny) River Runs Through it.

If ever a river was mis-sold, it’s the Roaring Meg in Stevenage. I just walked past it on my way to the retail park that has taken its name. They’re similarly uninspiring. The river is less of a roar and more of a dribble; cystitis sufferers produce greater flow. The retail park is soulless. What was once a thriving enterprise is nearly devoid of atmosphere, save an underlying essence of emptiness and despair. With a Toys R Us. When it was first built I was excited. Back then, the thought of a bowling alley, an ice rink, a Harvester and a Blockbuster Video within a small surface area was enticing. I celebrated many birthdays on site. There was an indoor cricket pitch there for a while where I once had a joint party with a friend. Why someone with an almost pathological fear of sport would agree to such a venture is beyond me, but I did it. Now, there’s very little at the Roaring Meg of note. The river would be a metaphor for the shopping ce
Read more

Hoo-ray and up She Rises.

So much has happened since my last post in March that this blog risks sounding like an itinerary. The main news is that Hitchin Mostly Comedy will return in the summer at a new venue, the Queen Mother Theatre . The road to this decision was convoluted, though enough fell into place en route to leave me optimistic about this new start. The catalyst was a survey I ran via our mailing list a few months back, in which I asked, "If the club returned in the current climate, with tickets still around £15 (and with similar line-ups), would you still attend?"; the response to which, in simple terms, was a resounding yes. Nearly 250 mailing list subscribers responded in a single week, with around a hundred also taking the option to leave some feedback. And only two people were abusive, which counts as a win when you consider they posted their comments online anonymously. Imagine how many more insults we would have received if the comedy club was a woman. Particularly if she was Diane
Read more