mostly david ephgrave

One thing I'm trying to do while in lockdown is get my voice back into shape. My voice goes through phases where I'm either actively keeping it ticking over with daily warmups because I'm using it regularly (like when I was playing Buddy Holly) or not touching it save a quick once-over before a one-off gig. I know the latter's inadvisable as it's expecting too much at little notice - particularly when I'm suddenly trying to hit top As in the Mostly Comedy theme, for example - but I know I'm not the only singer guilty of it. At least I'm not as bad as bands in the 1960s who'd class a coffee and a fag as sufficient prep. As a former actor/muso (and you'd best take that 'former' with a pinch of salt) I've found myself occupying a strange hinterland between real band-member and musical theatre performer as regards limbering up, where I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. Believe it or not, I'm a trained singer (la...

If my careers advisor Mr Chilcott could see me browsing government websites to find out if a self-employed performer is eligible for any financial relief, he'd be laughing on the other side of his sepia-toned head, the fucking git. Yes, that's right: his bonce followed a strict, olde-worlde colour scheme like he'd been photographed on a Victorian filmstock; that, or he'd been forged from melted-down Olympic medals, with a bronze face, silver hair and gold glasses (think of the strength it took to nod it). And it wasn't just his head that was reminiscent of days of yore, as his brain followed outdated thought patterns too. Consequently, he told me that being an actor & musician wasn't a real job, and I should consider being a teacher instead. Well, in your jaundiced face , Mr Chilcott, as most teachers aren't working now too. Didn't see that coming, did you? Admittedly, they're protected by salaries, unions and the like, while all I'v...

I've got to break through the fug of my current mindset to get my comedy-writing mojo back. My ideas pad (mostly full of bus times and general admin). It's hard to find the energy or will to write at the best of times when procrastination looms & lurks like a loom-lurker, without the current circumstances ramping my lethargy up a gear. It's not that my sense of humour's gone, though I now need dowsing rods to detect a joke. And even when I find one, my bastardly depressive mind kicks in to scupper it: "What's the point, David? No-one will pay you for this." When Glyn and I started renting an office six years ago , I'd get into the routine of going down there first-thing to work. But before long, I'd be swamped with admin of running a comedy club without the joy of something creatively worthwhile to offset it; at least when I was writing a show I had a place to run it - albeit a tiny one - though, in time it became another isolatio...

I know now's not a good time to feel defeated, but I do. It doesn't help that my main source of income - Mostly Comedy - is on enforced hiatus (although I've been predominantly ploughing money into it lately) or that the Bath Comedy Festival and Brighton Fringe have both been postponed until after Edinburgh (the thing they were in the diary to prepare for, although there's currently a big question mark hanging over that too). On top of that, there's my ongoing situation with an unaccountable relative, which involves so much scapegoating and negative reinforcement, the best course of action is to step away entirely before you're enveloped in the blame-game; it must be nice to be so guilt-free. But there's more to it than that: I'm tired of feeling like nothing's going anywhere. Being self-employed for eighteen years requires an iron constitution and endless energy, and frankly, I'm spent. I miss the collaboration that went with being ...

I'm still trying to fight the feeling my life's hit a stalemate. This year is my seventeenth since leaving drama school and, while I've dipped in and out of a variety of jobs in the interim, I feel stuck. In a way, things were simpler when I was jumping from actor/musician work to work as I was pretty much always employed with a sense of an upward trajectory to my career. Then in-between that I'd do the odd play at the small theatre in my hometown to keep my hand in on straight acting and stop me feeling like I'd stepped too far from my original plan. Admittedly, this wasn't without its setbacks. For much of this period, I was still feeling the brunt of my band's split - which was forced by my constant touring - and the sense of having made the wrong choices and taken the wrong route; this played on my mind daily and stunted my enjoyment of my work. My perception of this only really changed when I joined the writers' group The Comedy Project in 2005 ...

I’m probably being hypersensitive, but I often feel on the outside of the comedy community or clique. What triggered this thought today - though it comes up a lot - was seeing someone I know who's performing in Brighton this month (and whose promotional tweets I regularly share) tweeting about someone else's show, and then clicking on that tweet to see it had been shared multiple times while remembering what little interest was given to my show earlier this week. I know I shouldn’t be this petty, but it’s hard not to correlate your popularity against others around you to find yourself lacking; I sometimes feel my role is to offer other people gigs and present reasonably high-profile line-ups myself while getting nothing back. I know I shouldn’t put so much emphasis on what happens on social media when it’s fickle in nature at best. However it seems some people are permanently on broadcast mode and would never consider thanking you for helpi...

Sometimes, good news comes in small, yet no less valid packages; so it was for me today, when I received a breakdown of my Edinburgh settlement. Now, don’t get me wrong: the amount quoted won’t act in lieu of a pension (Ha!:“Pension”), but I'm pleased to say not only will the remaining half of my venue hire fee be covered by my ticket sales, I’ll also get nearly two hundred quid back. ‘What’s this, David?” I hear you ask. “They're paying you ?” “Yes, that’s right,” I reply to no-one in particular, “£191.07, to be precise.” Let’s not get too excited; if you tally up the cost of PR, digs, flyerers, technicians, printing, travelling and living, I’m nowhere near being in profit - but I am up on last year, which suggests if I'd had a later performance time, I may have fared even better. There’s definitely a small sense progression when I compare things to 2016; particularly now I’ve had a few months’ distance. The outlay ...

I had a nice relaxing evening tonight, switched off from thoughts of anything work-related. I feel guilty when I say things like this, like p eople would question what I do as being 'work'. That's a ridiculous mindset for a 34-year-old to consistently be in - or does everybody insecure about this? I shouldn't feel the need to justify what I do; I'm a self-employed performer who has always earnt a living in this field. My CV vouches for this. I've toured the country, appeared on TV (albeit in adverts) and been in the West End (and not just as a tourist), yet somehow my career doesn't seem real or tangible. Not just that; I also feel the need to rationalise why I might want a night off from thinking about what I need to do the next day. ...I'm essentially a bit of a fucking idiot. It helps that I met with Glyn today and we discussed a lot of things that need to be done. It was time well spent. I also phoned our Mostly Comedy technician Paul to talk thro...