mostly david ephgrave

I get annoyed when acts at open mic nights don't have the courtesy to support the rest of the bill by smiling or engaging with whoever's on stage.  It doesn't take much to be supportive. It helps the whole night zip by with energy, instead of creating a ponderous, wading-through-treacle-like evening, which doesn't help anyone. For me, it's basic etiquette, and while some comics always connect with what's happening and want to be entertained, others are selfish and not prepared to help anyone but themselves.  This was the case tonight, when I did a short spot at a show that's actually one of the nicer New Material nights in London. It didn't help that the gig took place in the worse of the two rooms it runs in (a space that would be a strong contender in any Least Focused Room on the Planet competitions) and that the usual MC wasn’t there to keep a tight ship. While I spent the first half trying to be encouraging, the...

I did a short spot at an open mic gig in Finsbury Park tonight, which is becoming a habit; primarily as it's so near to home.  There was a real sense of luxury when I came out of the gig and it was only half eight. This makes me wonder why on earth I put myself through something if I'm that pleased by the realisation that I'll get home early; is this normal? Does everyone get that excited at the thought of finishing whatever they've set out to do? I know many people see work as a means-to-an-end and aren't defined by their job, but isn't performing meant to be different? You certainly don't do it for the money (unless you were one of the central cast of Friends or Frasier, when I imagine the massive episodic fee was a pleasant by-product).  That's not to say that I didn't enjoy tonight; it's a nice little gig, and was useful as a chance to try out a couple of stories I haven't told in public before - but ...

The downside to doing a five-minute spot at an open mic night like I played tonight is you have to keep yourself somewhere between relaxed - when you're not going on stage for a long time yet - and primed for the moment you finally do.   This is particularly the case when you're the penultimate act in a long line-up, as I was tonight. In my case, I caught the train to Finsbury Park at the end of a stressful day to walk in the rain to a venue I've never been to before (having taken a wrong turn more than once), to a pub full of people I'd never met. The sole purpose of going there was to try a few new lines to break the back of some untested material, while also judging whether the venue might be a good place to visit regularly, to road-test ideas as I try to piece together a new show. If I liked the space, it could be perfect, as I'd have finally found somewhere I could go that wouldn't involve a travelcard and ...

Today, I've been a ball of anxiety, with the only relief being I ended the day with a good gig, which went some way towards reminding me that I'm vaguely capable of doing the thing I'm trying to do in the first place.  I've been chasing my tail since I woke up; running out of time from the word go. I spent most of the morning printing out contracts for the venues I'm doing previews at, along with bank statements for a financial advisory appointment I have tomorrow morning, and ad-hoc flyers for my three shows this week, to take the place of the professional printing I'd ordered and since discovered won't arrive before the actual performances. You've got to love wasting money; it's good for the soul. Frustratingly, I only managed to run the first half of my show before I had to go home and get ready to head into London for tonight's gig. There was a temporary respite this afternoon, however, when I met my friend Stephen for a coffee; you need th...

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...

Continuing my 'fit-as-many-gigs-in-before-April's-Bath-work-in-progress-dates-to-try-out-new-material' run, I did a short spot at Party Piece at Shaker & Company on Hampstead Road tonight. First off, I have to praise the venue for their exceptional vegetarian burgers (a phrase that has seldom been used before or since). I arrived an hour before I needed to sign in with the emcee, so I decided to make the most of the pub's gourmet burger selection, devouring my second veggie burger in so many days. Yesterday's was ingested whilst out on an Old Man Pub Crawl with my friend Steve at one of my favourite Hitchin pubs, the Half Moon. It was described as a beet & bean burger, which sounded violent; appropriately so, as the resulting patty was an alarming shade of blood red. It was delicious, but today's burger still knocked it out the park. Tomorrow, I'm gigging near Liverpool Street - and if there isn't a meat-free snack ...

Tonight I did a very strange gig. A very very strange gig. When you’re a comic at my level who’s working up new material, it's a struggle to get stage time. This can be frustrating, particularly when you’re also a promoter who spends your whole life (exaggeration) offering other people gigs, yet seldom get your offers reciprocated. (This sounds sexier than it is.) As a result, you hunt far and wide for somewhere – anywhere – to try stuff out, in a room that’s at least halfway toward being conducive for comedy. It's a depressing experience, when you realise just how few small-scale venues are actually equipped for this. It wasn’t that the venue I played tonight was awful – the room was pleasant and the person who ran it meant well – but everything about it was unclear. When I arrived at 6:00pm (admittedly an hour before the show was meant to start), the club was closed with no sign of life. I sought solace in a lovely recor...

Sometimes, doing stand-up isn't good for your mental health; when a set doesn't go well, it can serve to reinforce all the bad, yet false things you think about yourself. I find this flares up for me the most at open mic nights. (I'm feeling dramatic, so bear with me.)   I like to think of myself as a supportive audience member in these situations. I listen to the other acts, rather than shutting myself off, and above all, I smile when they're on. This isn't a contrivance; it comes through knowing what it's like to perform to a sea of blank faces. It's a small thing, but it can help to egg a performer on. I enjoy listening to people's stories, and watching them do their thing. Sadly, this often isn't reciprocated.  Tonight was a case in point. I did a five-minute spot at a well-run New Material Night and decided to take the title literally, and use it to road-test three new stories I hadn't told in pub...

I did a short sport at the lovely New Material Night Touching Cloth this evening – and, true-to-form to its already-mentioned loveliness, I had a lovely time. It’s such a friendly well-run room, with not a hint of the competitiveness of a lot of other open mic comedy nights. I’m booked to do a spot there in a few weeks but wasn’t officially on the line-up tonight, but as I was in town to meet a friend, I thought I’d pop down on the off-chance of getting a walk-in spot. I arriving long before anyone else and, as the pub above the gig was packed with people watching the football (on a big screen, not in the premises) I headed downstairs with a book and a lemonade to wait things out. (I’m such a hedonist.) I was third on in the first half, which was great, as it meant I could relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. I used my spot as a chance to give the material I did at the last month’s Mostly a second airing. I purposely kept my approach loose, as I’d promised myself, to...

I went into North London today with my wife: officially because I had a gig, but unofficially, for a jolly.  (I'd like to known henceforth as Rupert for using the word jolly in this context.)  The sunny weather brought the people of Islington out in force. You couldn't throw a metre-square quadrat down at random without encircling three hipsters. Everyone was better looking and more financially solvent than me, though to be fair, you can apply that summary to the majority of the human race. We went to the lovely tapas restaurant, Gem, on Upper Street, which just so happened to be the location of my final meal before proposing to my wife. I don't mean that in a death row sense. The food there was as lovely as my recollection of it; I ate so much, I thought it might hinder my performance (if anyone happened to see my set and didn't like it, this was clearly the reason). We had a quick drink at the pub theatre the King's Head, which I've never visi...

Open mic comedy gigs are great if you like performing mostly to silence.  Maybe it's just me. I don't think it is. They're so strung out. This is due to the amount of acts on the bill. It couldn't really be done another way - the point of an open mic gig is to give lots of performers a chance, with most acts doing a very short set, and for some it's their first time on stage - but you don't get a fair reading of material when the audience are exhausted from so much information, or it's entirely made up of other acts who are too busy thinking about their own sets. ‎ I don't want to sound like I'm talking the clubs I've played down. They've been lovely for the most part. I'm very grateful for the opportunity and for the stage time they give. As a promoter myself, I know organising the line-ups must be no mean feet. It's just not the forum for me. I prefer to be on at a shorter, more structured night, with fewer acts, and an audi...

I'm currently on my way back from an open mic gig near Spitalfields Market.  I managed to exorcise the demons of my last spot on a new material night. I didn't have a good experience that night. It didn't help that there were no lights on stage, meaning the audience were better lit than the acts. The MC, while being funny, was very downbeat, so the show lost momentum. All of this conspired to throw me and I lost my way with my new material. When you're only doing five minutes, it's hard to claw things back.  Tonight wasn't like this. It's one of the nicest open mic gigs I've played; tightly run, with a great host. I didn't get huge laughs - it's hard to when you're playing to a room of other comics who are more concerned with their own stuff - but I got across everything I wanted. The newest bit of all, which hadn't been tried before, got the best response of the bunch, so that's good. I also used my Caffè Nero loyalty card to...