mostly david ephgrave

The last few days have been a bit of a mad panic dash to book line-ups for our autumn Mostly Comedy season in Hitchin, which - despite being organised very close to the finish line - has turned out really rather nicely, if I do say so myself. The show I’m personally looking forward to the most is the one I’ve literally just confirmed in the last hour or so: October’s gig will be headed by Kate Robbins, with the no less excellent Jay Foreman bringing up the rear. And while I haven’t had the chance to speak to Glyn about it yet I suspect it will be the same for him too, as Kate was someone we’ve both had in the back of our minds as an act we’d like to book, ever since we went to see her Edinburgh show in 2008, while we were in the midst of our first EdFringe run with The Balloon Debate, which was at the Gilded Balloon too. It was just so good, and such a great mix of music and comedy from someone who was a consummate, grounded performer who was as gr

It would be little surprise to anyone who knows me that I love cake. It would also be no shock to those who follow me on Twitter that I like tweeting along to competitive cake-baking, in much the same way I like to tweet along to competitive ballroom dancing (#Strictly) or competitive hyper-intelligent student quizzing (#UniversityChallenge). So it was that I found myself doing just that, not long after stepping off the train from Edinburgh to home, as I watched the first in the current series of the Bake-Off on C4. It can be disconcerting when a new series starts as you're slightly thrown by all the unfamiliar faces in such a familiar format; consequently, I’m usually at least a few weeks in before I can comfortably recall the names of most people who appear on it and - more importantly - which annoy me. Here are yesterday’s Bake-Off ramblings: 8:12PM: "He's updating the thirteenth Century aberfrow..."; about tim

It’s almost worth doing the Fringe for the feeling you get as you travel away from it: ideally at speed. At time of writing I’m on the train to Peterborough, where I’ll meet my connection to Hitchin and not a moment too soon (unless I'm early). That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the last month - although I’m not entirely sure ‘enjoy’ is the right word for it - but nevertheless, it will be a relief to be home; taking a show to Edinburgh’s always a grueling experience, so it’s best to give yourself a little distance from it (both literally and metaphorically) before you reflect over how it went for you, for good or for bad. One thing’s for certain: I don’t ever want to do a show at midday again. My two previous solo Fringes were at the same time too, but this year, the downturn in numbers was painfully evident, which was such a shame when I think the show was my best, in the sense that it had a lot more depth. On the plus side, I felt the p

I spent my last evening in Edinburgh live-tweeting University Challenge, during a brief break from tidying my digs to a reasonable standard for me to bugger off back down South. It appealed to my OCD that I managed to tweet once per minute for the first six minutes of the show; I only wish I could have kept it up all the way through. See below what was said not quite so frequently: Strathclyde Vs. Durham (27.08.18) 8:31PM: I'll probably be tweeting about #UniversityChallenge for a bit. Sorry. 8:32PM: Is it me, or is Paxman starting to resemble someone's mum? 8:33PM: The first two chaps from Team Strathclyde would "cut yer". 8:34PM: Cameron Yule's collar position was no accident. 8:35PM: Moll Flanders; best sung to the tune of Goldfinger. 8:36PM: Toynbee: hair like an otter's pelt. 8:38PM: Strathclyde Pollock: a form of jig. 8:42PM: Pollock - P + B = Bollock

To end my run with a cancelled show because just two people showed up was a bit of a damp squib, but at least it meant I could pack up in a more leisurely manner. The only shame was it meant turning away the technician from Glyn's and my first Fringe run, Craig and his girlfriend - as they were the people who’d come to see it - though they of course understood it couldn’t go ahead, particularly when they were shown through about ten minutes late, when we were about to pack up. Frustratingly, it was their second attempt to see it too, but that’s the Law of Sod, which follows me around, though I’m very grateful they persisted. The point is I need to be on at a better time if I’m going to do this again, as midday's far too early to do me any favours. I knew this before I came up, but despite being prepared for it, it was still a blow, particularly as my numbers suffered this year more than ever and it probably had a bearing on me getting reviewed too. Once we’d decided we

It was good to get back on the Edinburgh Fringe horse today, metaphorically-speaking, after a nearly week-long hiatus, which was finally rectified by having my ear syringed so I no longer felt like I'm living under a bell jar. When I left my appointment yesterday, everything sounded so clear on my walk through Princes Street Gardens it was as if my soundtrack was being provided by an award-winning Foley artist (who won the prize for Most Convincing Recreation of a Scottish Tourist Hotspot). This return to normality put me in an inordinately good mood for someone at the latter stage of an Edinburgh Fringe run, probably because I knew I’d finally be able to do my show again, which is the reason I’m here after all. The only slight setback today was we went up a good five or ten minutes late due to a tech issue, which meant I was behind on time from the get-go, though it still managed to be a fun gig irrespective of that. The audience was tiny admi

As I hid from the Edinburgh rain in my digs tonight with just two shows left to go, I found myself pondering whether it's all been worth it. I mean this pragmatically. I’m not likely to lose sleep over it as I know the way it goes, but it’s at this stage that I can’t help but wonder whether putting so much energy and focus into the Fringe ever pays off. It’s genuinely been my priority all year - as it was in many ways in the two or three years that proceeded it, and to a lesser extent the years that passed since Doggett & Ephgrave were up here too - and yet, unless you have a top production team actively promoting you, it doesn’t matter how much good work you do, you’re still likely to sink without a trace. One thing’s for certain, I tried something very different to my previous output this year and tackled some difficult subjects along the way, and I’d like to think I came out with a more rounded show than the other three as a result. Stra

Today was the second show in a row I’ve had to cancel due to being unable to hear, which is very frustrating; not least as - what with the audience arriving late on Tuesday - I haven’t actually had a show this week. At least this time I made the decision before leaving for the venue and setting up, but it will still late-in-the-day enough for me to have less than an hour to get the message to the venue, my technician, my flyerers and a friend who was coming to watch, plus it was also the performance my mum had specifically come up to Scotland to see. I know I had no choice, but it’s still not the most auspicious way to end my run, plus it'll make it harder to settle the remainder of my venue hire-fee from ticket sales too. No sooner had I cancelled the show than I set to work at trying to book an appointment with a hearing specialist, but unfortunately the earliest I could be seen was tomorrow afternoon, which leaves it up in the air as to whet

I had to cancel today’s show despite having a good turnout (for me), for the simple reason I couldn’t hear a bloody thing. The cause was both dull and grim in equal measure: I occasionally have too much earwax for my own good, which is related to my whole vertigo situation, which at its worst will block my ear canal so much that no sound can get in (or out, should it need to); this is particularly the case when I’m rundown, which I clearly am at the moment. I had a similar problem before a show last year too, although it cleared itself just at the right moment; I had my fingers crossed that the same would happen today, but no such luck. I’d gone so far as to walk behind the curtain ready to make my entrance, but had been struggling so much to hear while chatting with my technician Robert just before - who’ll probably spot his name when this blog post briefly pops up on the screen at the end of my show tomorrow, so HI ROBERT - that I got into a bit of a pa

I was surprised and amused to discover one of the three jokes I make a point about being the only gags I’ve ever written at the top of my show made it into the i Newspaper’s 50 Best Jokes at this year’s Fringe; what with my line about Anne Boleyn getting into last year’s Telegraph and Comedy Central rundowns, I’ve now got just one joke left to feature somewhere notable to achieve a 100% success rate. I don't get it. Joking aside (no pun intended), it was a relief to have something like this happen, as prior to it, I only had a single disappointing review to speak of as the sum total of this year’s coverage - save a couple of Q&A interviews - and I didn’t want that to be the legacy of what’s otherwise felt like a successful run, at least regarding show content; while it wouldn't be the first time, it’s frustrating when you only have an unrepresentative write-up as the online legacy of your run. It’s funny to be included in another Bes

For a terrifying seven-minute period, I thought I’d have to abandon my Twitter coverage of tonight’s episode of University Challenge as my phone froze completely and wouldn’t work. Thank God I had my laptop to hand, or there would have been at least five people out there deeply disappointed they weren't able read my usual pithy (or take-the-piss-y) commentary. But I wasn’t prepared to let technology stand in my way. If all else failed, I would have sprinted up Arthur’s Seat - as I’m currently staying just around the corner from it - and orated my intended tweets like the Dalai Lama from a mountain top; provided I had sufficient Wi-Fi coverage to watch it on iPlayer that is. See below for my slightly late-starting social media-based thoughts. Clare - Cambridge Vs. Hertford - Oxford (20.08.18) 8:37PM: "I'm reading Law..."  (Huh)  (What is it good for?)  "...absolutely..."  (Nothing)  &quo

Tonight I went to see Brian Wilson play The Beach Boys' seminal album Pet Sounds, plus a truckload of his other classics at Edinburgh Playhouse, which was just what the doctor ordered at this stage of my Edinburgh run. I was glad I managed to secure a ticket a week or so after a bit of an online struggle with Ticketmaster as I knew it would be a treat to look forward to, which was perfectly positioned, what with it being the night before my final day off and a short walk from where I'm staying; I’d much rather be watching him than any comedy show or play on the Fringe as he’s a genuine legend and musical genius - to chose two vastly overused phrases - rolled into one. After The Beatles, McCartney and Dylan, I own more of his material than anyone, so to say I’m a bit of a fan is an understatement. While I was sat the gig and just prior to it, I essentially live-tweeted my experience (although I put my phone down for the duration of Pet Sound