After a few days off I was back on the road again, going down South, to Fareham in Hampshire, which is near France. I had to go through my script again in the dressing room beforehand, because a couple of times in previous shows I'd missed bits out, never important bits but it made sense to refresh the words in my mind. That was boring though, so I only did it for about five minutes. I was distracted by the posters of previous shows staged at the venue, which covered every inch of the dressing room walls. Some of the biggest names in comedy have performed on that same stage I was about to go on: Mark Thomas, Linda Smith, Rob Newman, The League against Tedium. Most excitingly there was a poster for Arctic Boosh, the show the Mighty Boosh were touring in 1999. The poster was signed by Noel Fielding and the thought of him and Julian Barrett hanging out in the same dressing room, doing their show on the same stage reminded me of the kind of adventure I was on.
There was also a poster for Rhinoceros, a French play about a group of people who turn into rhinoceroses. I went to watch it with my mum, the first time I went to Edinburgh, in 2003. I'd always wanted to go to the Edinburgh festival, and got a job there one summer working at the box office of a venue. They told me to turn up a few days early for training, which I did, but the venue hadn't even been built. They gave me a selection of Black&Decker power tools and told me to go off and help build stuff. I was terrified, I worked from 8 am til after midnight with a load of people who were loving every second, and then had to share a room with two people who I'd never met, one on the bed, two on the floor. Also it was unpaid. They told me I'd make money on tips, and that people were happy to work for free just to get experience of Edinburgh and free accommodation. It's pretty much the unhappiest I've ever been, I was only there for one day and night, and I woke up at 5 am, packed my bag and left a note saying I'd left. It's pretty much the only thing I've ever run away from in my life.
Everyone else who was working there were so obsessed with theatre and performance and I was completely indifferent to it all. I just liked going to watch stuff. It was three before I'd ever performed a gig, had never even contemplated it, I just thought it would be fun. Luckily my sister lived in Edinburgh at the time and so I stayed in Edinburgh for a couple of weeks, sleeping on her floor. Maybe it was because the beginning of my stay in Edinburgh had been so horrific, but I can't remember ever being as relaxed and pleased to be somewhere as I was in that Edinburgh flat on Marchment. Karen would go to work every day, so I'd either stay in and watch the cricket on Channel 4, or just wander around Edinburgh, baffled at what a huge thing the Fringe is. I had absolutely no money so couldn't go and watch anything other than free shows. This was before Peter Buckley Hill's Free Fringe, which I've benefited from in the past as both a performer and skint gig goer, but the BBC put lots of free shows on, and I went to watch Front Row, Just a Minute, Loose Ends. I loved my time in Edinburgh, hanging out with my sister at the Pleasance Courtyard, the Book Festival and the Underbelly. Occasionally on this tour there have been little reminders of the building blocks that lead up to doing an Edinburgh show. The Fareham gig was a quiet one but enjoyable, mainly in my head I had those memories of watching Rhinoceros. Queuing for Just a Minute tickets. The euphoria of hating a job, and before running away writing out a note saying 'By the time you read this I'll be gone.'
Friday, 16 March 2012
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
New Future Radio podcasts
Here are some more of the radio shows me and Tim Clare broadcast every week on Future Radio. The most recent is maybe my favourite we've done so far. Tim challenges liseteners to suggest a song he can cover on his ukulele, I reveal the top ten vacuum cleaners and we are offered the chance to name a baby.
The previous podcast is when I was away so Molly Naylor guest presented.
The previous podcast is when I was away so Molly Naylor guest presented.
Sunday, 11 March 2012
Arts Depot, North Finchley
It was a bold move of our B&B owner not to serve beans with a cooked breakfast, but he pulled it off. It was pretty much the best breakfast ever. I've eaten well, and relatively sensibly in the last month and a bit I've been on tour, but nothing really beats the perfect cooked breakfast, beans or no beans. I was shattered, I knew as soon as my alarm went off that I was running on empty and that the day would be a struggle. The morning got worse when what Molly had thought was a tyre with low air turned out to be a flat tyre; what we had hoped would be fixed with free air at the petrol station turned out to need a visit to the garage to get a new tyre. Molly dealt with it straight away and it was all sorted within half an hour, so what could have been stressful and problematic was actually over with minimum of fuss. Throughout this tour there have been moments when I've felt things are on the precipice of disaster, with snow and ice and the fact I could barely even hobble a week before the first show, but a combination of resilience, good fortune and being surrounded by the right people has meant there haven't been any big issues.
The drive back to Norwich was a long one, not just distance but time seemed to be dragging. It had been twelve consecutive days we had been on the road and it felt it; we listened to new episodes of This American Life, Marc Maron and the new Mountain Goats album which made things go a little more quickly and we were back in Norwich with enough time to get something to eat and head into town to watch our friend Paddy do a gig, and after that something I'd been waiting for: a night in my own bed.
I woke up and had a whole morning in my house before it was time to drive to North London to do another show. The crowd seemed much younger and cooler than I have been used to on tour, much more like the Edinburgh and London audiences. The reason I know that is because for some reason the lights were kept much brighter than any other performance, or gig, I'd ever done, so I could see every retina, every twitch, every jumper, every moustache. I've always wondered whether my audiences should be better illuminated, at times it does feel like you're talking to darkness and that if you sat down to have a Twix, a scratch and a yawn no-one would notice. But I think having done both, I prefer the darkness. Mainly because I know what a useless audience member I am, and I'd hate a performer to judge how their night was going based on my idiotic face. Also it'll make it easier to hide if Jo Whiley ever turns uo.
The drive back to Norwich was a long one, not just distance but time seemed to be dragging. It had been twelve consecutive days we had been on the road and it felt it; we listened to new episodes of This American Life, Marc Maron and the new Mountain Goats album which made things go a little more quickly and we were back in Norwich with enough time to get something to eat and head into town to watch our friend Paddy do a gig, and after that something I'd been waiting for: a night in my own bed.
I woke up and had a whole morning in my house before it was time to drive to North London to do another show. The crowd seemed much younger and cooler than I have been used to on tour, much more like the Edinburgh and London audiences. The reason I know that is because for some reason the lights were kept much brighter than any other performance, or gig, I'd ever done, so I could see every retina, every twitch, every jumper, every moustache. I've always wondered whether my audiences should be better illuminated, at times it does feel like you're talking to darkness and that if you sat down to have a Twix, a scratch and a yawn no-one would notice. But I think having done both, I prefer the darkness. Mainly because I know what a useless audience member I am, and I'd hate a performer to judge how their night was going based on my idiotic face. Also it'll make it easier to hide if Jo Whiley ever turns uo.
Taunton
We arrived early at our B&B. The owner wasn’t in so we wandered around looking for otters. Seeing an otter’s face was the main attraction for Molly, mine was the award winning breakfast that would be waiting for us in the morning. After so much time in cities and on motorways it was good to be in the middle of nowhere, with the smell of countryside poo and mud, the sun was out and we did not having to worry about anything other otter spotting until it was time to head to the venue in three hours. I was glad we’d arrived in plenty of time to make the most of the stay here; there was no phone signal or wifi. We walked along the public footpath by the river, and at 3 pm when we knocked on the door again we were met by a nice old man who we knew for certain would cook us a decent breakfast. There was so much precision and attention to detail in the room. Sachets of strong Columbian coffee, tea sets, pop pourri, porcelain statuettes on the windowsill overlooking woodland. Life is better in the countryside.
I had been in a good mood all day, that morning in the Aldershot B&B there was two hours in-between breakfast being served and checking out, so I was able to work on my book a little, write up the chapter about meeting Carl, an artist who lives near Barry Island. It was such a luxury to be able to sit at my computer and write up my notes. After that we went swimming again and the thought that soon my tour will be over, and rather than being getting in a Passat and performing my show, I will be at swimming, going to the gym, writing my book and not a lot else. I like performing but it’s writing my book that I get much more pleasure and satisfaction out of. Swimming helps me so much. It is one of the very few things in life that I can do where my mind allows itself to blank out completely, and for that forty minutes or so the only thing important in the world is doing length after length, all existential angst dissipates while I’m doing dead fast front crawl. There aren’t many things I can do and focus on entirely, watching a film in the back of my mind will always be a lurking resentment that I’m not working on something else, or meeting someone, or that I’ve forgotten to reply to an email. That’s why swimming is so important to me. Swimming, football, and a good episode of Deal or No Deal.
The show was a good one in Taunton, not a huge audience, but a lovely room to perform in. The tech went to walk his dog in-between doing a sound check and the start of the show. He seems to have worked out how to live a pretty idyllic life. I went to the bar to get a glass of water before the show and saw Tim Clare’s mum and dad, who had driven down from Portishead to come and see my show. It was really exciting to see them, it makes a difference knowing there are people you know in the audience. It probably shouldn’t but it does. I knew that they were not just there to be supportive, but because it was something they were genuinely interested in seeing, so I was glad the show was a good one so their thirty mile drive wasn’t wasted. Afterwards Molly and I headed to the pub round the corner, where we’d eaten earlier, because we’d noticed there were really good deserts on the menu, and after our banoffee pie and sticky toffee pudding we played on the Quiz Machine. And after spending as little as £7, this is what we managed to achieve:
It definitely made up for not seeing any otters.
I had been in a good mood all day, that morning in the Aldershot B&B there was two hours in-between breakfast being served and checking out, so I was able to work on my book a little, write up the chapter about meeting Carl, an artist who lives near Barry Island. It was such a luxury to be able to sit at my computer and write up my notes. After that we went swimming again and the thought that soon my tour will be over, and rather than being getting in a Passat and performing my show, I will be at swimming, going to the gym, writing my book and not a lot else. I like performing but it’s writing my book that I get much more pleasure and satisfaction out of. Swimming helps me so much. It is one of the very few things in life that I can do where my mind allows itself to blank out completely, and for that forty minutes or so the only thing important in the world is doing length after length, all existential angst dissipates while I’m doing dead fast front crawl. There aren’t many things I can do and focus on entirely, watching a film in the back of my mind will always be a lurking resentment that I’m not working on something else, or meeting someone, or that I’ve forgotten to reply to an email. That’s why swimming is so important to me. Swimming, football, and a good episode of Deal or No Deal.
The show was a good one in Taunton, not a huge audience, but a lovely room to perform in. The tech went to walk his dog in-between doing a sound check and the start of the show. He seems to have worked out how to live a pretty idyllic life. I went to the bar to get a glass of water before the show and saw Tim Clare’s mum and dad, who had driven down from Portishead to come and see my show. It was really exciting to see them, it makes a difference knowing there are people you know in the audience. It probably shouldn’t but it does. I knew that they were not just there to be supportive, but because it was something they were genuinely interested in seeing, so I was glad the show was a good one so their thirty mile drive wasn’t wasted. Afterwards Molly and I headed to the pub round the corner, where we’d eaten earlier, because we’d noticed there were really good deserts on the menu, and after our banoffee pie and sticky toffee pudding we played on the Quiz Machine. And after spending as little as £7, this is what we managed to achieve:
It definitely made up for not seeing any otters.
Friday, 9 March 2012
Aldershot
We got to Aldershot a bit late, mainly because I put the wrong postcode into the SatNav. It’s my one job. All I had to do was put a postcode into a little computer thingy and I bolloxed it up. I can literally do nothing. When I got there Barney, the venue manager met me and asked how I was. I said I was okay but feeling a little low on energy so he ran to get me a couple of Nature Valley cereal bars (one maple Syrup, one honey and oats). They made me feel so much better, just those two bars might have saved the show, it just proves that if venue staff take a couple of minutes to introduce themselves it can make a big difference. After the Cardiff gig at the Millenium Centre, where every single member of staff seemed fuming with anger that I had the audacity of turning up to attempt to do a show in their venue, it was lovely to feel welcome in a theatre once more.
It was a shame there had been the sat nav mix up because both Molly and I were feeling really good, we’d eaten well and been swimming again that morning. There were no flumes this time, they were roped off, so we had to console ourselves with the massive Jacuzzi. After so much time spent in traffic jams and hunched up in the front of a Passat, the Jacuzzi felt like it was adding on years to our lives, which were then taken away again by the stress of traffic. The problem with arriving at venues at 5 pm is that it means you’re always driving through cities and towns at rush hours. Sat navs have made life much easier, not just for drivers but for passengers, and I’d have had to do much more map reading and asking strangers for directions without it.
After a really fun show, Molly and I packed the car at supersonic speed because we had to race across town to get a table she had booked for us at an Indian restaurant at ten. It was pretty much the best curry ever, King Prawns the size of haddock, melting meaty Keema Naan, and for once we didn’t just order the cheapest wine on the menu. We got the MIDDLE wine. Which is pretty much as exciting as life gets for two idiot writers.
It was a shame there had been the sat nav mix up because both Molly and I were feeling really good, we’d eaten well and been swimming again that morning. There were no flumes this time, they were roped off, so we had to console ourselves with the massive Jacuzzi. After so much time spent in traffic jams and hunched up in the front of a Passat, the Jacuzzi felt like it was adding on years to our lives, which were then taken away again by the stress of traffic. The problem with arriving at venues at 5 pm is that it means you’re always driving through cities and towns at rush hours. Sat navs have made life much easier, not just for drivers but for passengers, and I’d have had to do much more map reading and asking strangers for directions without it.
After a really fun show, Molly and I packed the car at supersonic speed because we had to race across town to get a table she had booked for us at an Indian restaurant at ten. It was pretty much the best curry ever, King Prawns the size of haddock, melting meaty Keema Naan, and for once we didn’t just order the cheapest wine on the menu. We got the MIDDLE wine. Which is pretty much as exciting as life gets for two idiot writers.
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
Cardiff Millenium Centre
I felt so much better after my minor meltdown in Bristol. Molly collected me and the Passat and we drove to Cardiff. Both of us have been feeling run down, we’ve both been working a lot on other projects while we’ve been away so our brains and backs hurt, so before getting to either the venue or our accommodation we allowed ourselves the luxury of doing something called exercise. We went for a swim. But not just a swim, there were flumes. FLUMES! After doing a few lengths, like grown ups, we went over to the slides. I kind of assumed I was far too big and old for flumes, and that it was something as consigned to my past as playing marbles and thinking Joey and Chandler are funny. But that twenty seconds between me going on my back at the top of the big yellow slide to me splashing down in the pool at the bottom has probably been my favourite moment of the whole tour. Even better than meeting Fatboy Slim.
We went to set up at the venue straight away, and I don't think I've ever seen a venue as beautiful as the Millenium Centre in Cardiff. We walked through the foyer, saw a man playing the grand piano as couples waltzed on the dance floor near the cafe, and it really felt like I'd arrived at the wrong venue. And it wouldn't be the first time. But as I waited in the box office queue I noticed the poster of the cartoon of my face on the display wall at the back and proudly announced that 'I'm the guy doing the thing.'
This show was slightly different to others as I had been asked to provide a talk afterwards. I didn't really know what I was supposed to do, but in the car I'd told Molly that I was a little worried about it, and felt bad I hadn't prepared anything. During the drive from Bristol to Cardiff we decided that it would be best to do a sort of Q&A, that Molly could host in case no-one had any questions. The show went pretty well, the venue was so huge that it was hard to try and recreate the intimate atmosphere which is pretty crucial for the show to work, but it was fun. Afterwards I put some records on for fifteen minutes while the die hard stayed back and watched me and Molly recreate the boring conversations we were having in the car in front of a paying audience. We talked about John Peel's Shed, she asked me some questions then delighted in pointing at people with their hands up as she welcomed questions from the floor. This was fun, people tend to be very interested in certain aspects of the show, whether it's records or radio or John Peel.
Two audience members, a man and a woman, came up to me as I was packing away.
'We thought we'd tell you something,' the lady said. 'We worked together at a a community radio station 13 years ago. We haven't seen each other since, but we both came to your show tonight on our own, and there was a tap on my shoulder and I looked around and he was on the row behind me.'
They told me about the radio show they used to present, and how much fun it had been, and then left the venue, disappearing into the night to get married or something.
We went to set up at the venue straight away, and I don't think I've ever seen a venue as beautiful as the Millenium Centre in Cardiff. We walked through the foyer, saw a man playing the grand piano as couples waltzed on the dance floor near the cafe, and it really felt like I'd arrived at the wrong venue. And it wouldn't be the first time. But as I waited in the box office queue I noticed the poster of the cartoon of my face on the display wall at the back and proudly announced that 'I'm the guy doing the thing.'
This show was slightly different to others as I had been asked to provide a talk afterwards. I didn't really know what I was supposed to do, but in the car I'd told Molly that I was a little worried about it, and felt bad I hadn't prepared anything. During the drive from Bristol to Cardiff we decided that it would be best to do a sort of Q&A, that Molly could host in case no-one had any questions. The show went pretty well, the venue was so huge that it was hard to try and recreate the intimate atmosphere which is pretty crucial for the show to work, but it was fun. Afterwards I put some records on for fifteen minutes while the die hard stayed back and watched me and Molly recreate the boring conversations we were having in the car in front of a paying audience. We talked about John Peel's Shed, she asked me some questions then delighted in pointing at people with their hands up as she welcomed questions from the floor. This was fun, people tend to be very interested in certain aspects of the show, whether it's records or radio or John Peel.
Two audience members, a man and a woman, came up to me as I was packing away.
'We thought we'd tell you something,' the lady said. 'We worked together at a a community radio station 13 years ago. We haven't seen each other since, but we both came to your show tonight on our own, and there was a tap on my shoulder and I looked around and he was on the row behind me.'
They told me about the radio show they used to present, and how much fun it had been, and then left the venue, disappearing into the night to get married or something.
Day off (Bristol)
So this is the day I have needed for so long. I got up really late, had a bit of breakfast with Nathan and Emily then went back to bed, woke briefly to talk to my mum and dad on the phone and then went back to bed. When I woke up again about 4 pm I felt so much better about things, had a renewed energy about the rest of the tour, I feel like I’ve just been running on empty for a while and all I needed was the ability to crash for a bit and do nothing, I’ve been a couple of hours short of sleep for so long and now I’ve caught up again. Also I remembered that I’d brought season 4 of Curb Your Enthusiasm with me, something I packed at the last minute when I left my Norwich house because I knew there would be a moment on my tour when I just needed to chill out and do not a lot.
This meant I was in a perfect condition to meet up with Byron and Molly, as well as Mark Grist and his lovely girlfriend Lucy, who happened to be in town staying at Mark’s mum and dad’s for a few days. Mark is my friend from university, we were in the same poetry class at UEA, and have seen each other regularly since then on the poetry circuit, at the Peterborough night he ran for a while, and whenever he’s done gigs in Norwich, as well as at festivals like Latitude and up in Edinburgh. He’s had a really interesting few weeks, in which he’s gone viral online after a video was posted of him rap battling against a 17 year old.
One of the other things I’d done with my day was edit a couple of old Tim and John Future radio shows into podcasts, something I’ve been meaning to do for a while but just haven’t been able to find the time, and one of the episodes was when I was away and Molly (Poppy) filled in for me, and they interviewed Mark on the show. The episode will be uploaded soon. I’ve just got to convert the WAV file into an MP3. Fun.
This meant I was in a perfect condition to meet up with Byron and Molly, as well as Mark Grist and his lovely girlfriend Lucy, who happened to be in town staying at Mark’s mum and dad’s for a few days. Mark is my friend from university, we were in the same poetry class at UEA, and have seen each other regularly since then on the poetry circuit, at the Peterborough night he ran for a while, and whenever he’s done gigs in Norwich, as well as at festivals like Latitude and up in Edinburgh. He’s had a really interesting few weeks, in which he’s gone viral online after a video was posted of him rap battling against a 17 year old.
One of the other things I’d done with my day was edit a couple of old Tim and John Future radio shows into podcasts, something I’ve been meaning to do for a while but just haven’t been able to find the time, and one of the episodes was when I was away and Molly (Poppy) filled in for me, and they interviewed Mark on the show. The episode will be uploaded soon. I’ve just got to convert the WAV file into an MP3. Fun.
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