Brighton #2: All Work, More Progress.


One thing I didn’t anticipate on my way to tonight’s show in Brighton was I’d be performing to (amongst others) 27 German students.

Informal.
Their teacher popped his head around the door an hour before I began, to see (1) if there was anything on, and (2) if my show would be something I thought his class would understand. This was a hard question to answer as, while language wouldn’t necessarily be a barrier, they might struggle with some of the content, what with my propensity for choosing quite niche cultural references; did Noel Edmonds’ Nineties-era work make it as far as the Rhineland? Let’s hope not. My reluctance to answer with a clear yes or no may have been cause for doubt, as he didn’t commit to coming back.

I took a bit of a risk tonight, by making some big changes to my set at the last minute, so I could be true to my original intention of using the three dates to chop and change what I do, to make the most of the chance to work things up. This meant I spent the whole show eyeing my setlist to see what was coming next. I only just had time to finish editing the slideshow and rewrite my notes before the house opened, which left me pretty anxious; something which hasn’t been helped by my labyrinthitis, which has reared its head again over the last few days. Thankfully for me, the show after me had been cancelled, which gave me the chance to go up a little late, so I could meditate for ten minutes and centre my head. I dipped down the stairs to the fire escape to get myself together, to return minutes later to find the room was packed; there were over fifty in, with the German students amongst them; all the more reason for the changes I’d made to be a bit of a risk.

Thankfully, it went well. It was hot, so concentration was a little stretched, so I tried to keep the energy up to maintain attention. A few minutes into the show, I asked how many German-speaking students were in - I knew I had to make sure the rest of the room knew why some of the audience might be silent - for a sea of hands to go up; a sea that rapidly depleted to a puddle when I asked how many spoke reasonable English. It must have been a tiring hour for them, but to their credit they were very nice; particularly one woman who piped up when I got to the bit about 3-Headed Shark Attack, to agree with just how bad a film it was; it’s good to know that poor cinema knows no borders.

All in all, I was pleased with the show and happy with the response to the new stuff. It still needs finessing -and to be put in the most effective order - but the best thing of all was that, apart from the opening and my last line, all of the old show had gone. One thing I hadn’t realised was how many references to Hitler there were; one of which couldn’t be avoided, as the word 'Adolf!' was in the slideshow; if nothing else, I apologised for Brexit and thanked them for making The Beatles great; I like to do my bit for European relations.

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