An Evening of Progress

Yesterday was "Progress Evening" at my daughter's school.

It started at 3pm and involved a painful process of dashing from teacher to teacher, each one being more stressed and further behind schedule than the one before. I'm used to doctors' appointment times being somewhat over-optimistic. But this was like waiting for several doctors one after the other. I can only assume that the title "Progress Evening" is meant to be a joke - "at this rate of Progress, you'll be here all Evening!" Boom Boom.

My experience of Progress Evening was given something of an edge by the fact that I needed to be at a gig in Burton-on-Trent by 8pm. I got so anxious I kept standing up and sitting down again, causing Brady Jr to eventually say, "Dad you look like you've got OCD. Chill!"

Anyway, the good news is that Brady Jr is clever and that she shows particular promise in Drama, Music and English which makes me very proud.

The bad news is that I almost burst a blood vessel as I crawled through the roadworks on the M6, trying to get to my gig.

I got there though. I didn't make it for 8pm but I got there before the show actually started at 8:30 and I was on in the middle, so everyone was cool about it.

The gig was a lot of fun. It was in a pub called the Wetmore Whistle. It's a fantastic pub. It's a Free House, lovely inside, good atmosphere and great beers. And best of all they have created a great little space for performance, with room for a crowd of about 70 and a neat little stage with good lighting.

The Burton crowd are a good laugh as well. I played about with them a bit and took the piss out of most of them. They loved it. The material got some great laughs. I tried a few new bits and they went well. I'll be listening to the recording over the weekend to see what I can learn.

The quality of the comedy last night was excellent. The compere, Matt Turner, did a great job - a good compere makes such a difference to the evening.

The opener was Geoff Norcott - a very clever observational comedian with a very distinctive style. All through his act I found myself thinking - damn! why didn't I think of that?

And the headliner, Alex Boardman, was just exceptional - much better than most of the people you'll see on TV. (So go and watch some live comedy!)

To quote one happy punter: "You was all f**king brilliant!"

You can't say fairer than that.

Another gig, another lesson

This post is a bit of an epic, so settle down with a cup of tea.

Last night I did a gong show called Rawhide Raw in Liverpool at the Royal Court Theatre. That's not as grand as it may sound - the gig was actually in the downstairs bar to about 60 or 70 people.

As gong shows go it's a pretty good one for learning the trade. 

For a start, it's a small crowd and small crowds are much more difficult to warm up. They are more self-conscious about laughing out loud and you have to get most of them laughing before you get a critical mass. With a bigger crowd of say 250, you only need 20% of them to laugh and it lifts everyone else. So a smaller crowd is a much better measure of how good (or bad) you really are - there's nowhere to hide.

Also, the format at Rawhide is different. You get five minutes grace before the audience are allowed to gong you, which gives you time to try out material and to build rapport. This is invaluable stage time.

So how did I get on? Well the bell sounded to mark the end of my 5 minute grace period. And then the gong sounded one second later and I left the stage. I might be exaggerating - it may have been less than a second.

What went wrong? 

1. I didn't establish rapport with the audience.

2. My opening line fell flat on its face.

3. Some of my jokes were shit.

4. I think I scared the girls in the front row.

What went well?

1. I now have a few gags that have worked every time - that's a good start.

2. I also have a few that have consistently bombed and will never see the light of day again.

3. I got a very big (and prolonged) laugh for an ad-lib. I am good at them and I now realise I need to be a bit more spontaneous.

4. I wasn't nervous and I didn't feel humiliated when I didn't get a laugh - just a bit frustrated

5. I still want to be a comedian.

6. I did actually get a few good laughs.

What next?

1. I need to work at rapport - I think I'm a bit preachy on stage. I need to connect more and to relax a bit and smile once in a while.

2. I need a solid gold opening line - I had a really bad start last night.

3. I need to ditch about 50% of my material and sharpen up the other 50%

Better get on with it then.

Oops! There goes gravity!

I'm still a bit confused about what happened last night at the Comedy Store.

It would be wrong of me to say that I went down well - having been booed off the stage after 1 minute 28 seconds. But being booed is a lot better than being greeted by silence and walking off to the sound of your own footsteps. And I did get some laughs.

But the whole event was very different from what I expected. 

The first thing that threw me was the lack of intro music. I have always walked on to loud music which helps lift the crowd and kick-start the act. But instead the acts walked on to a thin smattering of applause. 

The second thing that sent me off balance was the unfamiliar character of the audience - so different from anything I have experienced before.

I anticipated hecklers - and I was kind of ready for it. But the hecklers didn't really materialise. Instead a kind of slightly prissy, moralistic air hung over the place, with murmurs of disapproval gradually swelling into boos.

It wasn't just me - it happened to quite a few of the acts. The minute the material got a bit close to the knuckle, they started moaning and groaning. I felt a bit out of place - like Bernard Manning in a Buddhist Temple. Material that got big laughs at the Frog & Bucket was baulked at. They reacted as if I had just pooed on the stage. (Which I nearly did.)

All the put-downs I had practiced went completely out of the window. Instead, I responded to boos from a particularly vociferous group by telling them to fuck off. Ironically this got my biggest laugh of the night.

At the end of my marathon 1 minute and 28 seconds, I at least amused myself by saying, "But this is me life! It's me dream!" a la X Factor. But, to be honest, it was a bit half-hearted.

My friends, Guy and Mary, came along to watch. Guy summed it up: "I think you misjudged your audience." I think he was right.

Having said all this I wouldn't like to give you the impression that I didn't enjoy myself. It was great fun and a real adrenalin rush. I feel determined to win those buggers over and I can't wait to go back next month for another go  - but maybe with different material.