Strum People.
One notable thing I took from watching Bill Bailey live in Stevenage last
night was how he often uses music just because it's good without feeling the
need to do anything comedic with it.
I found this
encouraging when considering how to approach this year's show. Perhaps the
main reason I’ve used my musical ability so sparingly in comedy in the past was
because I was trying to distance myself from the actor / muso rut I found
myself in, plus I didn't want to force-write a load of funny songs. While
I’ve written the odd comedy song in the past - the most prominent being Ukulele
Girl that I co-wrote with Chris Hollis, which featured on Spandex Ballet’s
album ‘Seriously, Don’t Release This’ and occasionally in Glyn’s and my live work
- they were composed for my own amusement, with no intention to foist them on
the outside world.
When I used to do
solo acoustic gigs - or even when I was in Big Day Out - it was always the
banter that was funny, not the setlist. I had an obsession with songs being
truthful and honest, and comedy numbers were by their nature a little too contrived and
throwaway for me; I liked listening to them, but that was about it.
That said, I’ve
thawed to the idea of using music recently. Last year’s Edinburgh show featured a
handful of jingles I wrote to segue my material, plus the eight-second
standalone ditty ‘John Snow’s Socks Go All the Way Up (He’s Got a One-Piece
Body-Stocking Under There)’, and while I didn’t accompany myself live, I played
everything on the backing tracks (ooh, get me). Now, I'm considering taking
things further and introducing a few songs from my past that relate to the idea
of charting my role in my own downfall (see my show's title) plus a
couple of newer ones that will hopefully also sit comfortably with it.
My main concern is whether the songs will slow down the stand-up and stunt
the reaction to it through not being strictly funny themselves. However, I keep returning to the fact that my main aim is for the show to be entertaining, and that
doesn’t necessarily mean I have to squeeze myself into the carbon-copy
world of your typical young(ish) white male stand-up. I want to be true
to myself and make the best of my abilities, and to ignore my musical side
is to metaphorically fire on half a cylinder. Don’t expect me to write a modern day ‘Jack
the Peg’ though, for obvious reasons.