mostly david ephgrave

It's fair to say my last week on the Fringe didn't progress as I intended. The first enemy at the gate was my old friend, the vestibular migraine, which surfaced a couple of times over the first few weeks like a sinister prelude for what lay ahead. Then on the penultimate weekend, what started as a low-level toothache escalated to the point that I had to call 111 to arrange an emergency appointment for a suspected abscess (good times). I hadn't realised how swollen my bottom jaw was because my beard had concealed it the same way it hides my hideousness from day to day. By last Monday evening, it was extremely uncomfortable and had sent my vertigo into hyperdrive. I was vomiting and felt like seven shades of shit (and that's a lot of shit-shades to deal with). To cut a long story short, that meant no more shows for me. Firstly, my face was too swollen to speak at length, which is pretty much the definition of standup. I was prescribed antibiotics for the infection, which...

From today, after twenty-three years there, I officially no longer live in Hitchin. Elwood looks down at Hitchin: the master of all he surveys (01.02.19) What's changed is I've sold the flat my dad helped me buy seventeen years ago, with the funds going toward his childhood home. Still, leaving Hitchin is a big thing to process. The beautiful little market town has become hardwired as my home; a base to come back to when I was touring; a location to run a comedy club; a place to carve my own identity (with the emphasis on the "tit" bit). That's not to say I'm not pleased to be moving to the village where my dad grew up. And it's not a completely new experience as it was our base for much of the pandemic while we waited for the flat to go. But the moment the sale went through was significant; to no longer have a base in the town I've lived since I was a nineteen-year-old drama student was a big moment. I'll always love it. And if asked at gunpoint w...

Yesterday, controversially, was the first day in nineteen months with a Mostly Comedy at the end of it, which is the longest gap between gigs in our nearly thirteen-year history. Sharing a showbiz stance with Phil Cornwell. It's fair to say we had no idea how long we'd be closed when we cancelled our show planned for March 2020. If anything, we felt we might be being over-cautious. But little did we know what lay ahead. And while that still applies today, to an extent, it was at least good to take baby steps towards pre-pandemic normality. Now, we just need public interest and confidence to build to the point that we start to pull in enough punters to make a profit while being as Covid-secure as possible. For the most part, the show was like putting on a pair of comfy shoes once we got past a couple of tech issues which meant we opened late. While we only started approximately fifteen minutes after our advertised kickoff, the mad dash to the end of our soundcheck left me feelin...

I was sad to stumble across the news on Twitter that Lynn Ruth Miller - who up to then was the world's oldest working stand-up - passed away last week. Interviewing Lynn Ruth Miller for More Than Mostly Comedy (13.12.20) I'd only been talking to her via email in July when we rescheduled Mostly Comedy's reopening to September and moved her next appearance at the club to next month as a result. But sadly, that lineup wasn't to be. She was More Than Mostly Comedy's penultimate guest  back in December, and what an eye-opening it was. It's no wonder she made the Telegraph's obituary section at the weekend as she practically squeezed four lifetimes into one. And she was a picture of resilience, having picked herself up more times than a pin in a bowling alley. It sounds like a stock phrase, but she was truly inspirational, and the comedy world is markedly emptier and less colourful in her absence. Not to mention younger. It's not often you share a bill with so...

From September 2010, every month for two years, Glyn and I would carry four 4.5' square rostra 176 yards from Glyn's dad's chip shop to Mostly Comedy's then-venue The Croft before/after each gig, in all weathers, for a step in the venue floor to render them invisible when we put them in place. It was an utter ballache. Nine years on, these chunky wooden bastards still bug me. The Croft's stage was hardly the Palladium. And when I say "all-weathers", I genuinely mean all-weathers. The worst was snow, although it's not like a sunny day made it any more enjoyable. Not only were the rostra heavy, but they were also very cumbersome. They were wide and a nightmare to keep purchase; it was like holding a butter-coated tombstone with clammy hands. Navigating from A to B was akin to a scene from the Eric Sykes / Tommy Cooper film The Plank with equal slapstick; my knuckles practically dragged along the floor at the end of Orangutan-like arms by the end of our j...

Unfortunately, we're unable to reopen Hitchin Mostly Comedy this month as we'd hoped, as we can't meet the current COVID-19 restrictions in a way that makes the event viable. Our official stance (with legs widespread). Fortunately, Hitchin Town Hall is  very keen to get us up-and-running again, as are we, but at the moment, too many problems stand in our way: the biggest being that the venue's current capacity is lower than our breaking-even point. While we're prepared to shoulder some losses just to get going again, it's just not practical if we can't cover our costs even when we're sold out. The event would also have to be run cabaret-style, with chairs & tables instead of rows to assist social distancing, but the smallest booking we could take is a party of six, which would limit interest immediately, which we can't afford when we're already on the backfoot. The good news is we're already discussing ways to make it work as soon as we c...

Today would have been the last performance of my Edinburgh show about my dad, Good Grief. While I'm sad that I couldn't do it this year, if there's a Fringe to go to in 2021, I'll be up there with it; I don't bow out of potential debt that easily. Joking aside, it's strange how it all turned out. Like many people, I've watched the content of my diary vacate en masse thanks to the pandemic. I went into the office for the first time in weeks on Thursday and consulting my wall planner was like enjoying a visual joke, as nearly everything I'd planned didn't happen; no Bath Comedy Festival, no Brighton Fringe, no previews, no Edinburgh, and only two Mostly Comedys since January. I might as well have not put it up and saved money on Sharpies and Blu Tack in the process (and we're talking big bucks). I know I'm not the only one that's facing uncertainty, but there's still so much up-in-the-air. We're currently discussing with Hitchin Tow...

Wednesday afternoon's interview with Josh Widdicombe was the relaxed, easygoing chat I hoped and expected it would be and will make for an entertaining episode, I think. Us and Josh, during last night's Zoom interview (15.07.20) It's funny as, from the outside looking in, he's one of the bigger names we've interviewed, although the way we came into contact with him makes this feel less significant, as regards intimidation at least. Not only was he one of the club's regulars during its earliest days, but we also shared a Free Fringe venue with a split-bill show of him and James Acaster with them in immediately after us, so we were relaxed with them both. It helps that, like James, he's just a nice guy with no arrogance, who's remained that way, irrespective of his success. And as far as I'm concerned, those are the best people. So this allowed the interview to flow with ease and without pretension. Plus it was great to catch up. And it's ...

Finally, five years on from our last instalment interviewing Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee in a conference room at Hitchin's Sun Hotel before their set at The Market Theatre next door, we have a new episode of our More Than Mostly Comedy Podcast available. This time, the comedian and impressionist Kate Robbins and standup and star of Red Dwarf Norman Lovett were in the spotlight; almost literally, in that we interviewed them onstage during the second half of February's Mostly Comedy at Hitchin Town Hall. It just so happened this was the last show before the coronavirus lockdown prevented live performances from taking place and it already feels like an age ago. I look forward to when we can return for many reasons; not least because it was great to make what was usually my favourite point of the evening - the chance to interview such fascinating people - part of the show. And though this first attempt at chatting informally in front of an audience was a little nervewracking...

Here's a little video message from Glyn and me to thank everyone who's donated to the JustGiving page to protect Hitchin Mostly Comedy from closure due to the coronavirus crisis; we're not out of the metaphorical woods yet, but the extraordinary generosity of the club's fanbase has certainly bolstered our chances to keep it going. If you haven't donated yet, don't be shy, as - to use that tired, old phrase - every little helps; throw your bunce in the direction of this link...

We've had so many lovely messages from everyone who's donated to protect Mostly Comedy through its enforced break. At the point of writing, fifty-eight people have contributed to the fund , raising £1340, which is enough to pull us through the current crisis for a good few months at least. Without it, the risk of closure pressed worryingly, which put me in the frightening position of losing my income overnight. As it stands, I won't be paying myself for a while, but I can at least reimburse a few of the running costs I've been covering from my pocket. But it isn't just about the money, though that's important. It's the evidence of how many people care about the club and would be upset if it went. We knew it was popular as it usually sells well, but as it's grown and its audience has changed through the years, you start to assume it's just a commodity that serves a purpose at time-of-use and that's it. And if it closed, people would make...

For the second time in a year, I've turned to JustGiving to help me through a financial plight; last time it was to contribute to the funding-hole left for Edinburgh when my dad's estate was frozen after he passed away; this time, it's to bolster Mostly Comedy through the coronavirus situation. Like so many industries, the COVID-19 pandemic has thrown live events into crisis. Suddenly, the future of venues & gigs looks worryingly unsustainable. Sadly, that's the case for Mostly Comedy too. Glyn and I run the club as self-employed performers on a low income. As it stands, Mostly makes just enough money to sustain each consecutive event and our running costs, but its survival relies on (1) the gigs going ahead, and (2) our taking little money from it. And when the money isn't there, we plug the gap. Until our shows can continue, the club has no money coming in (our ticket provider holds all funds until a week after each show). Meanwhile, our running c...

If my careers advisor Mr Chilcott could see me browsing government websites to find out if a self-employed performer is eligible for any financial relief, he'd be laughing on the other side of his sepia-toned head, the fucking git. Yes, that's right: his bonce followed a strict, olde-worlde colour scheme like he'd been photographed on a Victorian filmstock; that, or he'd been forged from melted-down Olympic medals, with a bronze face, silver hair and gold glasses (think of the strength it took to nod it). And it wasn't just his head that was reminiscent of days of yore, as his brain followed outdated thought patterns too. Consequently, he told me that being an actor & musician wasn't a real job, and I should consider being a teacher instead. Well, in your jaundiced face , Mr Chilcott, as most teachers aren't working now too. Didn't see that coming, did you? Admittedly, they're protected by salaries, unions and the like, while all I'v...

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. ( https://www.thecomet.net/what-s-on/theatre-arts/hitchin-mostly-comedy-night-postponded-1-6561683 ) 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, presu...

It's been a while since I've posted a Mostly Comedy press release in place of a blog here. And as our next Hitchin gig's just thirteen days away, now seems as good a time as any to do it: Press Release – 04.03.20 mostly comedy a monthly comedy club at hitchin town hall On 19th March, Doggett & Ephgrave’s popular monthly club at Hitchin Town Hall, Mostly Comedy, will play host to the Olivier-nominated comedian, writer, broadcaster and all-round British institution ARTHUR SMITH , who will both perform and then be interviewed by the duo for their More Than Mostly Comedy podcast. Arthur is best known for his appearances on BBC's Grumpy Old Men , QI , Have I Got News For You and The One Show , plus hosting BBC Radio 4 Extra’s Comedy Club and BBC Radio 2’s Smith Lectures . He is a Spirit of The Fringe award-winning Edinburgh Festival stalwart and the Olivier-nominated writer of An Evening With Gary Lineker . He started out as a member of the 1980s’...

After five and a half years, Glyn and I have moved to a bigger office on the same premises, which now puts us at the advantage of having room to swing a Bengal tiger. When we took on the first space, we worried if we could justify it, but despite being the size of a modest broom-cupboard (with just enough room to keep a dustpan & brush), we put it to good use; all my solo shows were written and rehearsed there, and the majority of our radio shows were recorded there too, which was a bit of a squeeze for the three of us involved.  It was also a storeroom for our Mostly Comedy gear in-between shows, which pretty much rendered it impossible to run our material there without kissing. (Like that's an excuse.) While it's sad to see it go (admittedly only across the corridor) the move is a positive step that reeks of potential. The new office is actually two rooms - one the size of our original office and another approximately six times bigger - which enables us to ke...

Today, Neil Innes told me off for writing a song so catchy it stuck in his head, which was a compliment I'm delighted to take on board. Posing with Neil Innes after tonight's Hitchin Mostly Comedy (03.10.19) He said it to me just after Glyn and I finished soundchecking Ukulele Girl for the evening's show; something I felt very conscious he was watching at the back. Being nonchalant about it was never going to be easy - this was someone who'd worked with Paul McCartney and George Harrison, after all - but I did my best to act like he was the sort of audience I put up with every day. He turned out to be lovely, which is always a bonus when you meet someone with his pedigree whose work you highly rate. I suspected I'd at least be able to talk to him quite freely about the work of him and his contemporaries, but it was nice that he was happy to discuss them, and was just generally a good sport. It goes to show how the biggest and best people we have at the c...

Today I changed the ink pad in the Mostly Comedy hand-stamp for the first time in eleven years; it's fair to say we got our money's worth. Stampy-wampy, catchy-monkey. If I could be bothered, I'd dig out some graph paper and work out a rough tally of how many hands it's stamped, although it wouldn't take into account people who snuck in without being branded, of course. It's probably best I don't anyway as it would be a dull endeavour, although I'm sure the grand total's still impressive. That stamp has travelled from venue to venue and somehow managed to stay intact. You could even say it's a little iconic on a local level at least. When I wasn't replenishing my ink stocks - euphemism - I was prepping equipment for tomorrow's show to make life easier on the day. Our get-in is super-tight so the more ready we are, the easier it will all be. It's another busy one too with 200 or so people coming, so it's good to not ...

Tonight's special charity Mostly Comedy at the Queen Mother Theatre was a resounding success, proving just how much nicer it is to run the gig in a proper theatre space over a function room. It just so happened that tonight was also the first time we've let slip that, after three and a half years at The Sun, we're moving to pastures new. As it stands, our unofficial/official home will be Hitchin Town Hall - that's certainly where our main shows have been shifted to up to the Summer - although that's not to say we wouldn't happily move to the QMT if we can make our diaries align. Everything about their setup is more conducive to running an event like Mostly, plus we've definitely reached the point where we're tired of having to set up a venue from scratch. While The Sun was integral to the club's growth over the past few years, the nature of the space meant we'd gone back a few steps as regards our pre-and-post-gig workload, so whether we perman...

Tonight's Mostly Comedy was a good one, which was a relief for me, as Glyn wasn't there and I wasn't really in the right mood. Running a club's a multitasking exercise at the best of times, not least when you're on your own. Your attention's all over the place as you methodically make your way through the setup process, trying not to be sent off-course. Inevitably you spend the least amount of time thinking about the material you'll do and more about the get-in and setup, which is a recipe for panic, particularly when you're responsible for the whole event with no buffer from the audience.  I'd love to be able to rock up, plug in and be good to go, but instead, I'm my own lackey (unless I rope someone in to help). This is all compounded when I'm on my own, and when, in the case of yesterday, a series of things conspired to make me arrive at the venue later than planned, not to mention the fact my dad's health issues have taken over to...