At Home With Acaster.
We recorded our first More Than Mostly Comedy interview of 2021 last night with James Acaster, pulling the largest number of live viewers of a Zoom show to date.
It's mad how far James' reach has extended since we first met at our second-ever Mostly back in October 2008. That said, if anyone from those days was going far it was him. He was a one-off from the start. While I get the impression he's a tough self-critic and would no doubt dismiss those early sets out of hand, his distinctive and now much-imitated delivery was there already. That unique turn-of-phrase, which must just be him, was well-established, as was his slightly formal dress sense. I've never known a chap his age own so many pairs of corduroys.
(Says the man who just used the word, 'chap'.)
What's nice is he's remained loyal to the club, despite his stellar career leaps, often returning when he can. So when I asked if he'd be free for an onstage interview in the autumn, and he wasn't, rather than just dismissing it, he suggested Zoom as an alternative before me. So I didn't have to bring it up. He didn't have to do that (or at least he wouldn't if it weren't for the incriminating photos we keep using as a bargaining chip).
Our conversation was helped along by the many questions we received in advance via our website as well as those submitted by our audience via the chat window mid-recording. It was also nice to reminisce about those first few gigs. I reminded James that he'd stayed at Glyn's parents the first time he came to Hitchin because he couldn't get back to Kettering that night and asked if he could remember the quality of the breakfast. He said the fact he couldn't was a good sign. You can't fault that logic. And you don't get to raid Glyn's dad's fridge when you play the Hammersmith Apollo.