Didacts on Drudgery and the Demurrage,
My views on stand-up comedy have changed through the years. Coincidentally, the moral of one of the shows I saw this year was exactly what I have been trying to say – the funniest things are those which happen spontaneously. The best comedy doesn’t happen in pre-ordained timeslots. Contrary to my beliefs, I attended six shows at this years Embra Fringe. I probably only meant to see two shows but that is how life is, I fall into things.
One of those moments of comic gold occurred on the train on the way to my first show. A boy, probably 6 year old,
asks his mother, ‘Why is the Forth Bridge so high?’ He pauses, ‘Because if it was lower and closer to the water, it wouldn’t be so dangerous, people wouldn’t die if they fall off.’ His mother panics. The family are clearly middle class and that added to the moment. She begins, and ends with the son being sent off to university to study a Masters course in engineering, ‘They have special engineers who calculate how many cars cross every day and how heavy those cars are. They then decide how big the bridge has to be and then they make up special drawings.’ She goes on, ‘but the bridge isn’t dangerous, not unless there is an earthquake. The engineers will have spoken with other scientists to decide if the bridge is near any fault line. Oh, look there is where they play rugby.’
I went to Embra to see John Hegley, I’ve seen him for a number of years running now, it’s sort of a pilgrimmage. The show is life-enhancing. The show opens with the mystery over the left rucksack and this becomes a running joke throughout the show; at first, John suggests an evacuation. The first song is about John’s glasses, after which, he asks the glasses wearers to wave their spectacles in the air, before the line, ‘I’m a bit disappointed with that, I didn’t see it go as well as I’d hoped.’ It’s obvious but amusing. The show contained all the usual stuff: old favourites (Luton Bungalow, It’s the Wheel That Squeaks That Gets the Oil, Poem de terre, etc, some had new verses) and stuff that was new to me. The show is warm and full of charm, there’s nothing to dislike. The show ended with the glasses wearers being invited onto stage to dance to the Ash hit, Burn Baby Burn.
The rest of the day went well, I found a copy of The Skinny, I bought a pair of trousers (they were unexpectedly reduced at the checkout), football turned out good. The low point of my day was being waved at by someone who had previously mistreated me; time heals wounds and for us, I’d say we are only at the point of neutrality; nowhere near friendly waving.
I visited Embra as part of a party of five to see Adam Hills and Alun Cochrane. Travelling was stressful; there’s always someone who isn’t willing to shoulder responsibility or who thinks that time will stand still on his count. Arriving by train, we traipsed up The Mound to see Hills at The Assembly. The show was completely unscripted and was marked by a conversation with a woman who arrived late, a phonecall to her husband, the purchase of £40 of chocolate and a self-appraisal for a reviewer. The final story is about pizza, this triggers a torrid interval between shows.
One of our party decided that we needed pizza, as this was the only idea suggested, I thought this would be our destiny, as much as pizza can ever be destiny, and we marched towards a Pizza Hut. As it turned out, only one person wanted pizza, we discovered this outside Pizza Hut. So three of the party were embroiled in some sort of feud over pizza, I was angered by one member’s attitude towards appearances and the need to continually comment. Appearances mean little to me and, in the city, where everyone is different, it grew tiresome to the point of breaking with my demeanour to make my point. Tensions were high and only one person managed to stay free from the uproar. Anyway, they decided upon chips from a restaurant that wasn’t suitable, I wandered off to listen to Polish Opera in St. Andrew Square with a hot chocolcate. A jet fighter roared past just prior to the performance. The opera singer was okay, it was the right place for me to be at that moment. I would’ve wanted to hear some violins before I had to rejoin the squabblefest.
Alun Cochrane was appearing at The Stand comedy club. The theme of the show was that chance moments in everyday life are more funny than jokes. I agree, I have never found jokes funny. The idea was born out of the moment a heckler in Sheffield shouted, ‘Tell us a joke.’ Alun admitted that he could never please this man because they both saw comedy differently. I enjoyed this show, it was wistful comedy. It was a discussion. Alun took an idea, or a belief, and talked to us about it, and I agreed, I knew that ships had to pass under those bridges and once pointed out, that child would have agreed too.
The next day, and to Embra again, to Bannermans, we saw Andrew Collins and his show Secret Dancing. Andrew Collins is a star of the modern day media, many people don’t know Andrew but he has contributed to such a variety of pursuits, it’s hard not to admire his relationship with the public. Secret Dancing is testimony to his handle on modern life and culture. It’s unsurprising, given that Andrew is a stalwart of BBC 6music, that music plays a key role in the show. We are taught how to dance to music on our ipods without anyone knowing. Highlights include investigating Reigate, Andrew’s relationship with birds, imagining his obituary and his feelings on Master Chef. I dismounted the table, feeling guilty that others had stood and left, throwing money in the bucket.
Staying in Bannermans, we stayed to watch Audi, Vide, Tace, a show by Charlotte Young. Using audio-visual aids, Charlotte tells the story of her involvement with an underworld agency and how she discovered many top secret truths. The show is amusing enough, it has some clever ideas, some wrong ideas and is, at times, let down by the poor quality of sound playback. As we watch, one thing strikes me: my associate and I, sat side-by-side, have our two idols ridiculed in consecutive sketches. We would never have predicted it.
We ventured out into the city, nearly argued over lunch, bought some lunch and then headed towards another show. Our choice was very much decided upon by the time available, I was alarmed when I heard Sean Lock discuss the title of the show we were about to see, Contains Mild Peril. Adam Mitchell and Phil O’Shea are the stars of this show. I should have been further alarmed when we had to march to obscure venue down at the Grassmarket, the Dragonfly cocktail bar. I think my words on leaving the show were, ‘That was an ordeal.’ Actually, I think the show would have been fine in front of a bigger audience, on a stage. Adam and Phil did seem to be aiming for a Morecambe and Wise/Les Dawson effect, the running joke was that they were so bad that they were funny. In front of nine people, in a lounge, they struggled miserably. I admire them for carrying on; cancelling the performance must have crossed their mind. I think they will go on to break show business.
The show ends and we head towards the train station. The Fringe was over for me. I will retire to normal life and waiting for those moments, those little moments of comic genius. If I become bored waiting for them, I’ll create them myself.
A man walks into a barrrr...
One of those moments of comic gold occurred on the train on the way to my first show. A boy, probably 6 year old,
asks his mother, ‘Why is the Forth Bridge so high?’ He pauses, ‘Because if it was lower and closer to the water, it wouldn’t be so dangerous, people wouldn’t die if they fall off.’ His mother panics. The family are clearly middle class and that added to the moment. She begins, and ends with the son being sent off to university to study a Masters course in engineering, ‘They have special engineers who calculate how many cars cross every day and how heavy those cars are. They then decide how big the bridge has to be and then they make up special drawings.’ She goes on, ‘but the bridge isn’t dangerous, not unless there is an earthquake. The engineers will have spoken with other scientists to decide if the bridge is near any fault line. Oh, look there is where they play rugby.’I went to Embra to see John Hegley, I’ve seen him for a number of years running now, it’s sort of a pilgrimmage. The show is life-enhancing. The show opens with the mystery over the left rucksack and this becomes a running joke throughout the show; at first, John suggests an evacuation. The first song is about John’s glasses, after which, he asks the glasses wearers to wave their spectacles in the air, before the line, ‘I’m a bit disappointed with that, I didn’t see it go as well as I’d hoped.’ It’s obvious but amusing. The show contained all the usual stuff: old favourites (Luton Bungalow, It’s the Wheel That Squeaks That Gets the Oil, Poem de terre, etc, some had new verses) and stuff that was new to me. The show is warm and full of charm, there’s nothing to dislike. The show ended with the glasses wearers being invited onto stage to dance to the Ash hit, Burn Baby Burn.
The rest of the day went well, I found a copy of The Skinny, I bought a pair of trousers (they were unexpectedly reduced at the checkout), football turned out good. The low point of my day was being waved at by someone who had previously mistreated me; time heals wounds and for us, I’d say we are only at the point of neutrality; nowhere near friendly waving.
I visited Embra as part of a party of five to see Adam Hills and Alun Cochrane. Travelling was stressful; there’s always someone who isn’t willing to shoulder responsibility or who thinks that time will stand still on his count. Arriving by train, we traipsed up The Mound to see Hills at The Assembly. The show was completely unscripted and was marked by a conversation with a woman who arrived late, a phonecall to her husband, the purchase of £40 of chocolate and a self-appraisal for a reviewer. The final story is about pizza, this triggers a torrid interval between shows.
One of our party decided that we needed pizza, as this was the only idea suggested, I thought this would be our destiny, as much as pizza can ever be destiny, and we marched towards a Pizza Hut. As it turned out, only one person wanted pizza, we discovered this outside Pizza Hut. So three of the party were embroiled in some sort of feud over pizza, I was angered by one member’s attitude towards appearances and the need to continually comment. Appearances mean little to me and, in the city, where everyone is different, it grew tiresome to the point of breaking with my demeanour to make my point. Tensions were high and only one person managed to stay free from the uproar. Anyway, they decided upon chips from a restaurant that wasn’t suitable, I wandered off to listen to Polish Opera in St. Andrew Square with a hot chocolcate. A jet fighter roared past just prior to the performance. The opera singer was okay, it was the right place for me to be at that moment. I would’ve wanted to hear some violins before I had to rejoin the squabblefest.
Alun Cochrane was appearing at The Stand comedy club. The theme of the show was that chance moments in everyday life are more funny than jokes. I agree, I have never found jokes funny. The idea was born out of the moment a heckler in Sheffield shouted, ‘Tell us a joke.’ Alun admitted that he could never please this man because they both saw comedy differently. I enjoyed this show, it was wistful comedy. It was a discussion. Alun took an idea, or a belief, and talked to us about it, and I agreed, I knew that ships had to pass under those bridges and once pointed out, that child would have agreed too.
The next day, and to Embra again, to Bannermans, we saw Andrew Collins and his show Secret Dancing. Andrew Collins is a star of the modern day media, many people don’t know Andrew but he has contributed to such a variety of pursuits, it’s hard not to admire his relationship with the public. Secret Dancing is testimony to his handle on modern life and culture. It’s unsurprising, given that Andrew is a stalwart of BBC 6music, that music plays a key role in the show. We are taught how to dance to music on our ipods without anyone knowing. Highlights include investigating Reigate, Andrew’s relationship with birds, imagining his obituary and his feelings on Master Chef. I dismounted the table, feeling guilty that others had stood and left, throwing money in the bucket.
Staying in Bannermans, we stayed to watch Audi, Vide, Tace, a show by Charlotte Young. Using audio-visual aids, Charlotte tells the story of her involvement with an underworld agency and how she discovered many top secret truths. The show is amusing enough, it has some clever ideas, some wrong ideas and is, at times, let down by the poor quality of sound playback. As we watch, one thing strikes me: my associate and I, sat side-by-side, have our two idols ridiculed in consecutive sketches. We would never have predicted it.
We ventured out into the city, nearly argued over lunch, bought some lunch and then headed towards another show. Our choice was very much decided upon by the time available, I was alarmed when I heard Sean Lock discuss the title of the show we were about to see, Contains Mild Peril. Adam Mitchell and Phil O’Shea are the stars of this show. I should have been further alarmed when we had to march to obscure venue down at the Grassmarket, the Dragonfly cocktail bar. I think my words on leaving the show were, ‘That was an ordeal.’ Actually, I think the show would have been fine in front of a bigger audience, on a stage. Adam and Phil did seem to be aiming for a Morecambe and Wise/Les Dawson effect, the running joke was that they were so bad that they were funny. In front of nine people, in a lounge, they struggled miserably. I admire them for carrying on; cancelling the performance must have crossed their mind. I think they will go on to break show business.
The show ends and we head towards the train station. The Fringe was over for me. I will retire to normal life and waiting for those moments, those little moments of comic genius. If I become bored waiting for them, I’ll create them myself.
A man walks into a barrrr...
posted by Leif at 9:36 PM
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