I’m often
surprised by how well Glyn’s and my radio show holds together when I listen
back to it, compared to how I feel as we were doing it.
That’s not to say I usually think it’s going badly, as I’m generally pretty happy with it, but
in the case of this week’s show (which just went out), I didn’t feel in the
right mindset at the time of recording, so was relieved to discover it flowed well when I heard it tonight.
The problem is
I’m hypercritical, particularly about myself, so if I’m not firing on all
cylinders, I'm the first to negatively judge what I (or we) have done. I’m
my own worst critic, which may come as a surprise when you read what others have said about me; the bastards.
What I like about In Your Inner Ear is the freedom we have while we do it. There’s no-one to answer to, except ourselves, and I like to
think we have good judgement. The format is simple,
but seems to work. We draw up a pie chart, with the slices divvied out between
us, and don’t give each other more than a vague gist of what we’re going to
bring up, to keep our reactions fresh. It might sound a risky strategy
from the outside looking in, but we’ve worked together long enough to trust each other and feel
safe with where we’ll end up, and know how to keep each other in check.
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| The plan for the first hour of tonight's In your Inner Ear. |
It’s great to not
work to a script, as there’s no real right or wrong. I love the disposability
of it, compared to the hard slog of writing a stage show. It’s great to
get the chance to sit in a room with two of my favourite funny people for a couple of hours, which is more fun than working on my
own. I’m more of a collaborator than a loner; if I can inspire laughter from
someone I trust, I have faith that I’m doing the right thing, instead of
having to sit in a room by myself, with only my brain for a sounding board.