HeadSpill

London was actually quite nice, and my tryout at Camden Jongleurs went pretty well. I have not bought any food the entire time I’ve been here, deferring to a stockpile of sandwiches I made from almost a whole loaf before leaving Manchester, so I’ve only spent £20 the entire weekend I’ve been here (not counting tube passes).

I played a game in my head while I was here, I tried to re evaluate my negative opinion of London. Starting from zero points every ‘nice’ thing to happen scored a point, and every ‘nasty’ thing deducted one. I was already in negative numbers before I got off the train at when the owner of the suitcase I’d put my bag on top of in the luggage rack, pulled it out quickly, like a cheap magician with a  tablecloth, causing my belongings to ‘thunk’ down and obey the laws of gravity. Bad London man. Saying that it was the only negative,  Camden market was lovely as was the shiatsu back massage I got from a stall that was just closing but willing to accommodate. “I’ve not been to the comedy clubs for years, times are hard” said the stall holder, “So‘s my back” said I.

Camden Jongleurs was also a considerably nicer proposition than it was in my head. No egos in the green room, just good crack. It did go off a bit in the crowd on Friday while I was on, nowt to do with me apparently, more to do with a table of four who taken some ‘big drugs’, and were now laughing and shouting like special people. Saturday was quieter.

Dan and Rachel, who put me up for the weekend are recently married, and good friends of my lass. Dan is playing Fallout 3 on XBOX which looks awesome. Rachel also plays on the XBOX. I want an XBOX. If I ever decide I want to get married I may put it on the wedding list, along with a windscreen TV and a copy of call of duty.

Two shows down, one to go. My show has been to Manchester, Newcastle and next week hits Glasgow for it’s last last confirmed date. I might get one or two more dates in to do it yet. The Manchester show at the Frog & Bucket was quiet, but the best I’ve performed it, and Newcastle last night was wonderful, small but perfectly formed at the Dog & Parrot.

Without the time restrictions of Edinburgh it’s far more comfortable to do a full show, but with that comes the added pressure, in the form of filling venues, publicity for places you’re yet to go, and being as good as you can be to generate that elusive ‘following’, people who find you funny enough to want to see you more than once.

The first person I heard to use the word ‘following’ in relation to their comedy career was Gav Webster, a good few years back when he was working on an Edinburgh show, and a following he has. I find it really hard to address,  it’s not an issue you can consider without directly ackowledging your own ego and ability as a performer. When booking a show into venue there’s only one question on the promoters mind. “Do enough people love you to fill the room?”. No um’s, no ah’s, just bums on seats and number crunching. Can you pull them in?

I’d like to think I know the answer to this, but I don’t. Which probably means in all truth my ‘pulling power’ is small to non existant. It might be easy for a reliable promoter after an event, or indeed my trusted agent beforehand to tell me what my pulling power is, but as I said you can’t address it without there being some degree of ego leverage in there. I’m far too close to what I do to be able to see it objectively, and like many comics swing pendulously on an axis of self esteem, from a positive “genuinely unpredictable and very rewarding” act that chortle described so well to a negative, wacky northerner waffling self indulgent nonsense.

I’d like to think I have some small appriciaters of the particular comedy I do, indeed there’s a bit of catch 22 as it’s more likely that people will remember you from doing a full show than they will from just being another act on the bill of a comedy night. As Jerry Seinfeld said in his movie “Comedian”,  “You are the entertainment”.

I’ve gigged regularly in Manchester and Newcastle for years, but not Glasgow. How many people will turn up to next weeks show at the Glasgow Comedy Festival? I’m not a name. I’ve no idea.

Of those unknown quantity how many will want to see me again? We’ll see.