Skip to main content

You Can't Do That.

With the current coronavirus crisis progressing as it is, it was nigh on inevitable that we'd cancel next week's Hitchin Mostly Comedy; it wouldn't have been responsible to go ahead, irrespective of whether the government's banning public gatherings yet.


The question is: what happens, from here on in? If the virus continues to spread, theatres, venues and the entertainment industry as a whole will grind to a halt, as may be necessary for public safety, but what might be a luxury item for the audience is a way of life for those who work in it. And in the same way that heightened terrorist activity or economic crises often lead to poor turnout, the fear of contracting COVID-19 could potentially decimate the number of people going out.

Short-term, postponing next week's gig was the right thing to do all around. Firstly, ticket-sales were already down, presumably for the same reason, with the show nowhere near to breaking even with less than seven days to go. And while we'd make a loss, either way, that loss is minimised by pushing the show on, both in terms of having more time to sell with a potentially decreased risk.

But what will happen in the months ahead? The minimum outgoing for a cancelled gig is the hire fee for the venue, but there are other running costs to cover, including our office rent. I've already been putting in a fair amount of my money to keep the club afloat recently, and it looks like I'll have to do more still to keep it alive, which also means not paying myself too.

But it's not just losing Mostly that worries me: what about the Edinburgh Fringe? The nature of the festival - with its dingy venues and population influx - makes it very vulnerable to cancellation, with a potentially huge knock-on effect. A lot of money changes hands for it to happen and a lot of that money could be lost: I've already started paying for my digs, venue and to register my show, with a lot more due in the coming weeks. And I'm just one of many. But having lost money last year when I had to pull my show last-minute, I'd sooner not have similar problems this time too). Plus I'm also doing the Bath and Brighton Fringe in the lead-up, which could also be hit by the pandemic.

Having said all of that, I know people's health is the priority, and it's frightening to think how many lives could be lost. But the impact on the economy will be massive too. So forgive me while I wash my sore, chapped hands for the forty-seventh time today and hope for the best.

Popular posts from this blog

Shakerpuppetmaker.

Have Parker from Thunderbirds and Noel Gallagher ever been seen in the same room? The resemblance is uncanny. So much so, I think something’s afoot. If my suspicions are correct, I've stumbled across a secret that will blow the music and puppet industry wide apart. In the mid-60s / mid-90s at least. It doesn’t take long to see the signposts. There’s the similarity between the name of Oasis’ first single, Supersonic, and Supermarianation, Gerry Anderson’s puppetry technique. The Gallagher brothers would often wear Parkas . Live Forever was clearly a reference to Captain Scarlet and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants to the size difference between Noel and his bandmates. The more you think about it, the more brazen it gets. It’s fishier than Area 51, Paul is Dead and JFK's assassination put together. The only glitch to the theory is scale . According to Wikipedia, Anderson’s marionettes were 1’10” and Gallagher is 5’8”. How does he maintain an illusion of avera...

'...I'm Gonna Look at You 'til My Eyes Go Blind."

Over the past week or two, I’ve been on a bit of a Sheryl Crow kick, largely thanks to rediscovering her cover of one of my most-liked Bob Dylan songs. She has one of my favourite female voices, yet despite this, I only own one CD and that’s just a single (her '97 release ‘Hard to Make a Stand’); on that basis, you can only imagine how much of her back catalogue I’d own if I hated her (it would fall into minus-figures). Dylan, conversely, takes up more of my collection than anyone else, save The Beatles and Paul McCartney’s solo work. He’s one of those artists who, when you get him, you really get him - and once I’d tuned into his style as a student, I'd time and again be blown away by his lyrics; he’ll have more jaw-dropping imagery in one track than other people fit in a whole career. These days, I mostly listen to music in the morning when getting ready, and more often than not, this will consist of a suggested YouTube playlist when I’m in the bath, r...

"Speaking Words of Wisdom, Let it Shine."

Tonight saw the second instalment of BBC1’s latest advertise-a-musical-for-months-and-then-cast-it-with-performers-too-inexperienced-to-do-it-a-thon ‘Let it S̶h̶i̶t̶e̶ Shine’ (or as I call it: ‘REAL AUDITIONS ARE NOTHING LIKE THIS’). I didn’t watch it (clearly), but being reminded of how angry seeing just five minutes of it made me last week caused me to mull over what I would call a musical based on the band’s songbook, if I was responsible for it. Here are a my suggestions: IDEAS FOR TITLE OF A TAKE THAT MUSICAL: Barlow! Dirty Fat-Dancing Orange! A Million Love-changes-everything Songs Owen! Howard's End Pray Misérables Mamma Marka! Babe (with a pig as the lead) …BUT MY FAVOURITE HAS TO BE: Jason & His Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat. "It was Orange, Orange, Orange, Orange..." (TAKE) THAT’S ENOUGH OF (TAKE) THAT.