mostly david ephgrave

As of today, I've been a professional actor and musician for twenty years. Allegedly.  Doesn't working in the same field for two decades technically constitute a career? If so, I look forward to the sense of security kicking in, both psychologically and financially. However, I know I should at least give myself a pat on the back for managing to stay in an industry so notorious for people dropping out. To still be acting twenty years after my showcase at London's Fortune Theatre is not to be sniffed at, whatever my bank balance/sinus issues say to the contrary. All in all, I haven't done too bad. My first two jobs - both No. 1 tours for Bill Kenwright - set a high bar in terms of the scale of theatre I was playing and the work I was doing. Being a musician definitely increased my opportunities in the early days, though I risked being typecast in a genre I was determined to not get stuck in. However, it gave me some great opportunities of which playing my heroes Paul McCa...

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...

Today, I finally finished compiling my 2017/18 tax records (with my wife as my unpaid assistant), which makes for depressing reading unless you're a fan of minus figures. (If so, then get ready for  this : -4922.679232) (I know: phwoar) I find myself at a crossroads over what to do next. The past four years have been primarily about performing stand-up to fringe audiences to work up my solo chops, having always performed comedy as one half of a double-act up to that point. While I've taken shows to London, Brighton, Bath, Leicester, Hitchin and Letchworth over that time, there's no doubt Edinburgh was the biggest underlying factor, with the other dates being either a warm-up for or a cool-down from three consecutive Edinburgh Fringes, with me writing another solo show in 2015 that I didn't take to Scotland, but was still put together with going there alone as my motivation. There's no denying the experience has been challenging, both creatively and financial...

I'm regularly drawn back to Sixties-era Motown and more specifically to songs like this. I know my chosen example’s hardly obscure but it’s still worth another listen to remind you how note-for-note perfect it is. It’s not just the song; it’s the performance and production, which manages to capture the sentiment of head-over-heels love in a vivid snapshot. There’s something about the sound the Motown studio committed to tape back then that’s so different to what the UK produced - it probably helps that it’s almost always the same backing band, though that’s not just it - and while the mics and engineers were partially responsible, I think it's largely due to the musicality of the lead vocalists and backing singers that blend so perfectly. This song brings back memories of the first time I toured the Netherlands in 2004 as the bassist on a Sixties compilation show. We were staying in the Dutch equivalent to a Center Parcs with the band spread across four or five log cab...