mostly david ephgrave

It's fair to say my last week on the Fringe didn't progress as I intended. The first enemy at the gate was my old friend, the vestibular migraine, which surfaced a couple of times over the first few weeks like a sinister prelude for what lay ahead. Then on the penultimate weekend, what started as a low-level toothache escalated to the point that I had to call 111 to arrange an emergency appointment for a suspected abscess (good times). I hadn't realised how swollen my bottom jaw was because my beard had concealed it the same way it hides my hideousness from day to day. By last Monday evening, it was extremely uncomfortable and had sent my vertigo into hyperdrive. I was vomiting and felt like seven shades of shit (and that's a lot of shit-shades to deal with). To cut a long story short, that meant no more shows for me. Firstly, my face was too swollen to speak at length, which is pretty much the definition of standup. I was prescribed antibiotics for the infection, which

Today proved how much better my show works with a bigger audience, something that's probably not that surprising, though it was lovely to have it confirmed. I didn't have that many in - probably about twelve, though a few more were shown through about ten minutes before the end when it was far too late to do a recap so God knows what they thought I was on about - though the impact on the atmosphere was huge. Suddenly, there were laughs to ride and the chance to have fun with the material, and I felt like a standup again too, which was a bonus. That's one of the positives to doing a lot of shows to small audiences on the Fringe: by the time you're back in front of a more substantial crowd, you quickly see the benefit of all those gigs when you had to work for a reaction. This was the case when we filmed my last show, 'David Ephgrave: My Part in His Downfall', a month after the 2018 Fringe. Putting it in front of a packed crowd felt like a treat, and the fact I wa

 A little over a week has passed since my last blog post, and I'm still in Edinburgh doing my thing. Monday was my first official day off, which was much-needed, though I did squeeze in an interview for my McCartney McAlphabet co-host Clary Saddler's podcast Mouth-Off and a therapy appointment too. The show itself is going well , though I'm still struggling for numbers. I don't mind performing to a small audience generally as it reminds you to connect instead of going on autopilot, though it's not a cost-effective way to do a fringe run. It also doesn't help you build a grassroots following when so few people get to see it. What's nice is people are getting on board with the subject matter. No show is a wasted opportunity, though it's the stuff around it that's frustrating. For example, yesterday, I set up my gear - no mean feat itself - to pack down moments later because just one person came. Days like this when no one has booked in by the time I

It's a week today since I caught the train to Edinburgh to bring my show 'Good Grief' to the Fringe, and it's also the first chance I've had to take stock and write something to post here. The short answer to the question, "So, how's it going so far, David?" is, "It's going well, David; thanks for asking", though, as it's the Fringe, that comes with many caveats. Or am I just being pessimistic? The fact is Edinburgh's one hell of an endurance exercise, however you look at it, with a definite sense of one step forward, two steps back.  (And that's just navigating Cowgate.) The biggest challenge is doing it alone. Firstly, there's the logistical impact. Some people who bring shows to Edinburgh have producers and directors assisting them. Not old muggins Ephgrave. The only person I have working for me is my PR, who's brilliant and lovely, but I pay for that (well, not the lovely bit, which comes naturally) as I know with