I Think It's Called Karma

Someone said to me recently that all good gigs are balanced out by bad luck, and vice versa. Unfortunately, he seems to have proved himself right. At Krater Comedy, I had a really fabulous time. Feeling 200 people laughing at everything you say is exactly why I started this in the first place. Four days later, and I am still buzzing about the whole experience. Not even the fact my car blew up on the way home from Brighton has dented it. But now I am without wheels.

My colleague feels he had a less good time at Krater (I disagree), but he found 200 free cigarettes on his way home on the train.

Double Take

I was happily driving to Bath on Sunday ... well, cautiously is a better word for it. The engine of my car was making a rather strange tick tick ticking noise that conjured up images of explosions and failed roadside assistance. Either way, the phone rang and within a few minutes I had gone from travelling to Bath for a single gig, to heading that way for two in the space of twenty minutes.

As I weaved my ticking time bomb car around the Bath one way system looking for a parking space (I eventually just left it where it conked out) various things I had heard about doubling up were running through my head. It's probably a cliche, but I have heard enough different people saying to make it likely to be true. The second one almost certainly goes better than the first. Whether this is due to energy levels, or your mind being elsewhere during the first, I don't know.

So, I step up onto stage at the first gig - and ramble far too much. I was still in compere mode I think, wanting to engage the audience and chat a while before doing any material. This was a mistake. In retrospect, I should have kept it tight and punchy. That way, they wouldn't have got bored and stopped listening. As I darted from the room towards the next gig, I thought, "Oh well, at least the second one will go better."

So, I step up onto stage at the second gig - and ramble far too much. I had a lot of energy and I wanted too much to engage the audience and chat a while before doing any material. I actually started punchy, then got lost in my own self-indulgence. I should have kept it tight and punchy. That way, they wouldn't have got bored and stopped listening.

I guess I learnt some things from these two - but I should have learnt them in one gig, not two.

My car is still ticking.

Don't Compere Me To Anyone

Hyuck hyuck, gotta love that awful subtitle right? Anyway, as terrible as it may be, it has a point. Actually, no it doesn't. So, um, yeah. No, I know. I was compere for an evening of comedy at The Bunch Of Grapes on Sunday night. I used it to develop my "banter" skills and try alot more improvisation than I normally would get the chance to do.

I also think I may be developing a "catchphrase" of sorts, as much as it pains me. The word "Faaan-tastic" seems to be cropping up more often than it should in my set, and people have started saying it back to me. An odd thing. Bet Paul Whitehouse gets pretty annoyed with it all the time.

But back to the compering. In total, I suspect I managed to be on stage for over twenty minutes, which was heartening because I proved to myself that I certainly can spend a more prolonged time with an audience without them growing to hate me. As in my act, I steered clear of mocking cynicism, and tried to be positive, friendly, and hopefully with a child-like awe of the world. I think it plays well in that it breaks up the tone of the evening. A string of pseudo-intelligent cynics can get very boring I'm sure.

So that's my thoughts.