mostly david ephgrave

I did a short spot at an open mic gig in Finsbury Park tonight, which is becoming a habit; primarily as it's so near to home.  There was a real sense of luxury when I came out of the gig and it was only half eight. This makes me wonder why on earth I put myself through something if I'm that pleased by the realisation that I'll get home early; is this normal? Does everyone get that excited at the thought of finishing whatever they've set out to do? I know many people see work as a means-to-an-end and aren't defined by their job, but isn't performing meant to be different? You certainly don't do it for the money (unless you were one of the central cast of Friends or Frasier, when I imagine the massive episodic fee was a pleasant by-product).  That's not to say that I didn't enjoy tonight; it's a nice little gig, and was useful as a chance to try out a couple of stories I haven't told in public before - but ...

I'm currently hurtling from Finsbury Park to Hitchin on my way back from a gig, but I can't get comfortable because THE TRAIN I'M ON IS NOTHING LIKE THE TRAINS THAT NORMALLY RUN THIS ROUTE .  I've been travelling from Herts to London on and off for twenty years, and in all that time, the journey has never been serviced by a train like this. It's the kind I'd expect to take from St Pancras to Brighton or from Vauxhall to Leatherhead; not from Finsbury Park to Hitchin (seasoned travellers of the South East will know what I mean). The colour-scheme and seat design is completely wrong, and the adjustable shelf in front of me isn't the right shape. I feel like I'm having the dullest outer-body experience ever: everything around me is wrong - and what I don’t get is no-one else seems fazed by this. Three paragraphs into this blog post and I’m safely home, but still shaken by my commuting experience. All the way back I was ...

I did a short spot at a gig in Finsbury Park tonight; my second in that part of town in so many weeks, though they were at different venues. I used tonight as a chance to try out a bit of new material I started the day before yesterday, and to solidify some of the stuff I tried at a gig last week. Inevitably for the sort of show it was, the room was tough; it was in a lovely pub restaurant with a lot of character and a warm feel, but the stand-up took place in a room adjoining the bar with no door to separate it from the main area; consequently, the gig had a underscore of whatever music happened to be playing in bar - and, while this could have been a lot more distracting than it was, attention was still difficult to keep hold of, particularly if the audience started to talk. I went on at the beginning of the second half when concentration was starting to wane. I don’t enjoy five-minute spots as a rule, as there’s not time to settle into a rhythm ...