mostly david ephgrave

While there was no reason to doubt it, I was delighted by the excitement today's announcement that Dr. John Cooper Clarke will play July's Hitchin Mostly Comedy Festival provoked. I'd like to think my judgment of what our audience wants to see is pretty sound, based on the club's popularity, but every so often there'll be a slight undercurrent of worry, particularly when there's either a lot of money involved or the event's taking place at a different venue to usual. In the case of John Cooper Clarke, I'd been working on the booking for a few months and had every crossable appendage assuming the position in the hope it would come good, but knew all along it would only work if we held it at Hitchin Town Hall so we could get enough people through the door to fund it. This obviously meant whittling down a date that both John and the venue could do while striking a deal with both that wasn't too expensive when a show of this nature has more overhea...

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...

Today's Edinburgh show was my busiest to date and the best one so far; two things that don't always go hand in hand from experience. I’ve often found smaller fringe audiences to be the most responsive, as there’s something special about talking to an intimate room if that room’s on board. When there’s a bigger crowd you tell yourself it’s going to be a good one for it to inevitably fall flat; two of the best reviews Doggett & Ephgrave have received to date were to tiny crowds, if there’s such a thing; a handful of punters are often more impressed if you give a sparsely populated gig your all. This morning’s show contradicted my theory perfectly. The audience was absolutely lovely and with me from start to finish; for the first time I was able to ride laughs, which was brilliant. I found I had to give it more energy than usual, which was surprising, but it was a great atmosphere and was a lot of fun to do - and the feedback on the door a...

Tomorrow night, I preview my Edinburgh show in Cambridge , and the question on everyone’s lips is, “Will I wear my Monkman t-shirt?” MONKMAN! Well, ‘everyone’ is a bit of an exaggeration; it’s more likely just a few. I did raise my quandary on Facebook and Twitter this evening to an entirely positive response, but that was only from the people who replied, which in fact were minimal; is it right to assume mass-silence as a positive vote? In reality, I don’t think I have any choice, as not wearing a t-shirt with the face of one of Cambridge’s biggest cult icons (and moat recent University Challenge finalists) emblazoned on it - when I own such a garment - would be an opportunity missed. The only genuine poser faced is “Which Monkman t-shirt?” as I’ve actually got two: a brown one and a red one. Perhaps I should change colours in the interval. Hopefully it will be a fun gig and a useful one too. I started a run earlier this evening but...

The nicest thing about tonight’s preview - aside from the fact it went ahead - was that some of my ex-students came to see it. I’d clocked their name on the booking list for the previous Actors’ Temple show, which we ended up having to pull, and wondered if it was them (their surname rivals mine for its unusualness) so I was particularly pleased they were able to make the rescheduled date; it’s lovely when someone goes to trouble of booking - let alone planning to travel into town specifically to see you - that you hate to be the reason it doesn't go ahead. They enjoyed the show, which was a compliment as they were always very funny themselves. They were the first to put their hand up for any improv game I set and they always made me laugh. Their class was full of talent, and the keenness they injected into proceedings made the job a lot of fun. The show was fairly good and was certainly very useful, even when putting tearful reunions to o...

Today I stumbled across a picture my wife took through the window of a caravan that acted as the backstage area for a gig in what essentially amounted to falconry display venue in Liskeard back in 2009. Glyn didn't get the memo. It was a memorable gig as the audience were up on their feet and dancing throughout (probably because they were surprised we didn’t all have Kestrels and Tawny Owls balanced on our outstretched arms); the set certainly made it feel like a bird display. The sound wasn’t great for that one, as we had someone different to usual behind the desk, so it was a little ropy, but the audience loved it. As ever, they didn’t really seem to mind or notice. I quite like doing outdoor gisg for the novelty value, but there was a red alert when I noticed’ all the signs where just a step away from saying “Puppet Show and Spinal tap; be that as it may, I still had a great time, primarily because my wife came down to join me and we s...

One thing I've learnt from collating my 2015/16 Tax Return is that receiving a chiropractic treatment costs the same as a train to Kettering. Both services come in at £37.00, which isn't cheap, particularly when one leaves you in incredible physical discomfort and anguish and the other is a chiropractor appointment. But which was the most indispensable? I definitely gained more from having my bad back looked at, as the trip to Kettering was for a gig that, while in a lovely building (a converted bookshop that doubled as a music venue, with guitars, mandolins and ukuleles on the walls), the show itself was very disorganised. It was run by a couple of secondary school students with their parents, for which I didn't get my expenses recouped and came out the other side feeling like the elephant in the room, because I wasn’t a teenager; I tend to walk into these things (when I don't catch the train).  It could have been worse. That £37 t...

One of the things I did today, besides meditating, visiting ASDA and running my show (I didn't do it in the supermarket), was write the press release for this month's Mostly Comedy.  See it below, in all its promotional glory; what a cop-out for a blog post. Press Release – 01.11.16 mostly comedy a monthly comedy and music club, at the sun hotel in hitchin Following on from last month’s sold out eighth anniversary show headed by the multi-BAFTA-winning comedian and impressionist RORY BREMNER, Hitchin’s stand-up duo DOGGETT & EPHGRAVE will host another cracking Mostly Comedy line-up in their hometown this month, featuring two performers who are perhaps better-known under their character pseudonyms than as themselves. “Top Ten Foster’s Comedy God” TOM BINNS will appear as his comic alter egos IVAN BRACKENBURY and IAN D MONTFORT . Tom’s an award-winning character comedian who’s made a huge impact on the scene since his first TV ap...

In many ways, today’s show was the best of the run so far, and the most fun. For the first time, everyone filled from the front, making for a pack of punters right in my eye line, who were on board throughout. I had enough laughter to sit back on and help me enjoy telling the stories, rather than feeling I had to fight to keep the ball in the air (clunky football analogy). It may have been a little indulgent, but I mentioned my one-out-of-five score from a Twitter reviewer who said I failed to produce laughter, to an audible gasp; it was probably unnecessary to say it, but if nothing else it was good for mental health to vocalise my inner monologue at a show where the response from the audience couldn’t have been more at odds with that summary. It was nice that today’s show was a good one, as I had a friend in that I hadn’t seen properly for twenty years, despite having kept contact on Facebook and Twitter. We had a lovely chat over a drink in the ...

Tonight I did a short spot at Touching Cloth, to road-test a couple of bits and bobs of newish material to see if they work.  As to whether they did, I'd say "probably yes", which is a good enough outcome. I kept my set loose, and if anything had too much to get across in just five minutes, but I came away from the venue feeling relaxed, which is a good indicator, particularly after a stressful week.  I bumped into my friend Sarah on the train home, who kindly gave me a lift back to Chez Ephgrave (the place where I live). It's the second time we've stumbled across each other this week, though the first time was more special, when I came out of Waterstone's in Hitchin at the precise moment she was walking past while dialling my number on her phone. I appeared like a well-read incantation; " If you call me, me will come." Today started with another friendly hook-up, when I met Glyn for breakfast, to discuss what we'll be doing at Mostly Comedy n...

Every nose-blow at the moment is like a small, yet potent explosion.  My cold is going through its various stages very quickly. Yesterday, I had next-to-no voice, so we had to cancel recording IYIE. Today, it's gradually found its way back to existence, though at a quieter, more gravelly level than usual. I sound like a timid Rod Stewart (though Rod was never known for his timidity; picture his trousers, for Chrissakes). While I'm glad the germs seem keen to vacate my system fast, I wish they wouldn’t do it in force via my nostrils every five minutes. The noise (and all that goes with it) is very embarrassing. To compound the situation, I ran out of tissues this morning, so my trip to my mum's house to walk her dog was made with a big box belonging to my wife filling out my bag. It made me feel suspicious, though I may have been over-thinking it. I was meant to do a gig in Kingston tonight, which, had it been yesterday, would ha...

Tonight I did a stand-up gig in a restaurant.  The words 'stand-up' and 'restaurant' don't sit together comfortably; they're the antithesis of 'Ebony' and 'Ivory', 'Stoppit' and 'Tidyup' or 'Wogan' and 'wig'. When you've settled into a booth in an American-themed diner to devour your BBQed rack of ribs, the last thing you want is some bearded git - me - talking to you through a mic in the corner of the room, doing material about AIDS. It's not an appropriate digestif.  The situation could have been horrendous, if it weren't for the fact that the other acts were lovely, and the people who ran the restaurant were too. It couldn't be helped; sometimes an event has to go a certain way to know it shouldn't go that way again. Comedy needs full attention to work; it's not jazz (thank God). We were also treated to a meal on the house, which was a nice touch. Well, I hope it was free; i...

Tonight, I had the uncomfortable experience of eating a cod fillet next to a fish tank.  I was dining alone in a restaurant in Brighton before a gig, and hadn't considered where I was sitting until after I'd chosen my main course. Goldfish, catfish and koi swam within my eye line, judging me for my dietary preferences; no doubt hating me for my lifestyle choice. Being pescatarian means nothing when you could still be chowing down on someone's mum or dad.  To add insult to injury, I was wearing a shirt with pictures of fish on it. If anyone noticed, they'd have thought I was obsessed; not content with eating them, when I can wear them and watch them swim by me as well The gig was fun. It was in a tiny room below a pub, which was more like a Moroccan opium den than a comedy venue - and all the better for it. See below for a picture of the stage (Rowley Birkin QC / Ronnie Corbett out of shot). Surrounded by seating. ...

One thing that particularly pleased me about last night’s Mostly Comedy, as dull as this may sound, was the slickness with which we got the audience in. This can be a challenge to orchestrate, particularly when the demand is as high as it was yesterday for Stewart Lee. The show sold out in four hours back in June - and the emails, phone calls, texts, tweets and Facebook messages asking for tickets didn’t stop from then until a few hours before curtain up. We’ve never had such a constant demand, except for last September’s show, which also featured Stewart Lee; I think I detect a pattern.  Stewart Lee at last night's Mostly Comedy (photo by Gemma Poole ). The reasons it can be difficult are (1) we’re in an adjoining space to a small-scale theatre, so usually have to wait for a show to finish next door before we open the house, leaving us a tight window to get everyone in without starting too late, and (2) we’re often sold to capacity and, be...

Tonight's the second time in my life that I've become unreasonably excited on remembering I have a Kit Kat in my bag.  That's not to say there haven't been occasions when I've achieved acceptable levels of joy at the thought of a two-or-four-fingered treat (INSERT YOUR OWN PUNCHLINE HERE). I'm certainly never disappointed by the prospect - but it's fair to say that tonight's moment of realisation gave me a spring in my step that's seen me through the rest of the day (at time of writing, we have four minutes left).  The last time this happened was in 2003, when I was on tour with The Roy Orbison Story. It was in the midst of a matinee on a two-show day, after a very long week, that the fact I'd bought a chocolate bar earlier came back to me. The moment is seared in my memory. I was on stage at the time, wearing a white rollneck and a black suit jacket, playing the bass part to Mean Woman Blues. I'm sorry to say that the thought of that ...

I sometimes find it hard to hold an accurate representation in my head of how a gig went. Tonight was a good case in point. I did a five minute spot at a new material night. I was second on in the second half, following one of the most hate-filled acts I've ever seen. The MC even introduced him as such. It was a character act, well-observed and well-delivered, yet almost impossible to follow, with such a short set. I became a space-filler while people got their breath back. I know my place.  If I'd realised before, I would have planned a more attacking, energised set. As it was, I'd decided to go with some of my gentler, story-based material. In the few minutes before going on, I mulled over whether to adapt. I decided to stick with it. My intention had been to work some newer stuff in, so work it in I must.  As I stood at the mic, I became aware of the vacuum I needed to fill. The audience seemed quiet and tired, and I felt like I wasn't getting the story ...

I’d like to live in a world where my bag isn’t just big enough to fit the things I need to carry in it, provided I don’t want to take anything out at any point. It’s the ultimate status-lowerer. It’s intensely frustrating. Filling it is akin to a game of Tetris; there’s a very specific method to take, and Lord help you, should you attempt to deviate from it. As soon as I’ve slid my laptop in (I say ‘slid’; it’s more of a fifteen-stage force), there’s scarcely room for anything else. I then squeeze in my umbrella, knowing there’ll be no hope of extricating it quickly in the case of a sudden downpour. It would be easier getting it out if it was encased in concrete. (I exaggerate for borderline comedic effect). The simple answer to my problem would be to buy a new one. This relies on me having the funds to do it. I bought this one in a state of emergency and haven’t yet had the requisite cash to replace it. Such is the life of a professional actor / comedian / pauper. ...