It occurred to me
today that part of the reason I felt nervous before my solo set last
Thursday was because a lot of the material I was about to do
was fiercely autobiographical.
This is something
I haven’t done with Glyn. Most of our work centres around
passing comment on things we’ve found. While we’re often self-deprecating
(sometimes too much), the spotlight is seldom on us. We’re never the focus. The
fact we use a projector and a screen compounds this; we spend our whole
set saying ‘Look at this. Isn’t this funny’, rather than ‘look at us’. Psychiatrists would have a field day.
This is much less the
case with the stuff I’m writing for myself. This blog is partly to blame. You
can’t write every day without eventually turning the spotlight inward (I’m
enjoying my lamp-based metaphor). I haven’t revealed anything shocking, like
the existence of an illegitimate lovechild – I’m holding that back for a bit –
but I’ve documented a lot of what I think. I’ve also called on stories from my
personal life.
The strange thing
is I’m very private. I keep myself to myself. Yet I get up on stage
for a living – and post something based on my experiences, or my outlook, here
every day. Work that one out.
The vast proportion
of the material I performed last week was about my childhood. There were no
bombshells dropped – it was all pretty innocuous – but it was still about me.
If people didn’t laugh, I was more likely to take it personally.
As it stood, I wasn’t
on form. Most of the new material got a reasonable reaction, but I didn’t
pitch it right. I was too tired and my delivery was too placed. That’s the
downside of running your own club; you spend so much time rushing about, and little of it focused on your performance. That becomes an afterthought. Still, I'll
reserve final judgement until I watch the video of it. Either way, I’m
likely to pursue this route with the show I’m putting together. That way, I can’t
be accused of ripping off someone else’s material. Well, I still can, but I’ll choose
to ignore it.