Tough Gig

28-07-2010

It's been a while. Over a week in fact. But you can be sure that this rant is going to be a long one.

Why the break? Well mainly because I have had very little to rant about lately. The rewrites take up a hell of a lot of my time so any work on website stuff, or art, or anything else that usually gets ranted about here has taken a bit of a back seat.

But today, dear friends, I am here to talk to you about comedy. Once again I took to the stage last night, at a venue that I have wanted to try my hand at for the last two years. When I began doing this I heard that this little spot was great for honing the material down and trying out some raw stuff. That you had a great atmosphere and the crowd was generally more than just mates who had come along to see one person.

Man alive was it not the gig I was expecting.

I have done all sorts of gigs now at this stage. With the only exception being one that had crowds in the triple digits.

I've had small crowds. Big crowds. Crowds with a lot of my mates in them. Crowds with nobody I know in them. Crowds made up purely of the other acts on the night and my long suffering lady friend (who could probably take to the stage herself now and just recite my set she has seen the current one that much). Crowds were my material killed the room and I walked off to raucous laughter. Crowds where my material was hit and miss. Crowds that found my material in no way funny at all and I died on my arse on stage. So I am no stranger to having a bad gig, or a tough one. Did I mention the time I had four people in the crowd and they were all German? No? That was a fun gig.

I've loved each and every one of them. I wouldn't change any of them at all. They helped make me work harder on material, practice timing, learn that jokes need to have a broad appeal.

Clean up the set completely.

Last night was like a gig that I have never experienced before. So much so that I will be using points to break everything down into logical parts.

You'll have to excuse some of the colourful words that I use. But they help get the point across.

Front Row Fucker: First time I ever had one of these guys in the crowd. You all know the sort I am talking about. He is the loud mouth prick that thinks he is hilarious, because his mammy probably told him that a joke he made when he was five was brilliant. When asked simple enough questions he tried to be the comedian and came out with stupid answers. What didn't help the situation was that his three mates all broke out into hysterics with each idiotic statement. The more drink they had the "funnier" this arse became. Thankfully I had no dealings with him, but I think that may have just been luck.

The Pint Prince: Ah yes, who hasn't had one of this pricks in your crowd at some point. He is the guy that sits down at the very back of the room with his mates and can be of any age at all, from twenty to sixty. They sit there and have pints in hand, arms crossed, looking at the stage content that they are in the "safe" zone and won't be targeted by the acts. That is until they think they are brilliant at this comedy lark, sure it's just telling jokes, and start to shout up stuff when an act is on stage. When asked to repeat themselves suddenly they loose the power of speech and become very thirsty. I love brave folk like this, it's the comedic equivalent of a schoolyard bully with his mates. Strong and brave in the herd, but still a dumb fuck when on his own. Or in the herd.

The Moody MC: This was a first for me actually. I've yet to complain about an MC at any of my gigs. Their job is a tough enough one, they have to warm up the crowd between acts so that people aren't getting on stage to a dead audience. I've had some MC folk fail at this and some rock the socks of every person sitting in the room. But I won't complain about one. That is until last night.

I asked a mate of mine to video my set, because I had some new material in it and wanted to watch it later to see how it worked or didn't. I was told the running order was going to have me as the eighth act on the night. So my mate had the camera all ready just as the seventh fella finished up. Usually he records the MC announcing my name, so that we have a starting point for the video. So there he is, recording away, and another act's name is called out. My mate turns off the camera and goes to the loo. On his return trip he is confronted by the MC, who wanted to know why he was recording his material between the acts and a dozen other questions. As if we were some sort of secret covert operation come in to steal material. It wasn't like he even had any golden nuggets of comedy brilliance to begin with.

I do understand how he might have taken umbrage over a person videoing his act without his permission, but there are ways of doing things right and polite. Instead of demanding to know what the video was for, who it was meant to be of, what was done with the video not being used he could have said "Sorry, but if you wouldn't mind only videoing your mate when he gets on stage that would be great."

Simple. Nice. Pleasant. How my mate didn't loose it I don't know.

But the Moody MC went one step further then. Knowing that a video was going to be on him before I got on stage he decided to do not warm up for me. The guy on before me had died big time, we are talking a dead cold room. An MC could have warmed them up a little, this guy got on the stage and just said my name then walked off again.

That was it.

Working your arse off then to get the first laugh. Brilliant. Way to be good at your job.

The First Date: I've had first dates. I know they are nerve racking. I know that you like to try and impress the girl to somehow trick her into forming a lasting relationship with you. These dates usually involve drinks, dinner, walks, but overall a lot of talking to get to know each other. Here's Jester's Top Tip For Dating: Don't bring her to a fucking comedy club on the first date.

That guy up on stage, with the microphone. That guy is talking to the crowd. If all he can hear is you talking and asking stupid questions then you know the crowd is going to be hearing the same thing as well. When I was on stage this douchebag was talking so much and so loud that I could follow his conversation while I said my material. At one point somebody in the crowd turned around and told him to shut up.

My hat is tipped to that patron I tell you.

Cut Short: I was told to have ten minutes of material ready. I've done gigs five minutes long, I've done ones twenty minutes long. Ten is a walk in the park. Generally the way these things go is you get flashed, either with a torch or a mobile phone back light (no trench coat wearing naked people here) to let you know you have one minute left and need to wrap it up. I got that flash last night, at six minutes.

No word of warning before going on stage. No indication that the set had to be shortened. I am up there, keeping time in my skull, when I get told that I have a minute to wrap up four minutes of material. So on the fly I had to link to jokes together that brought my finishing joke closer.

The only good thing about being told to get off stage a lot earlier than you had to was I learned how to modify my set on the fly.

The only problem I have with that aspect of last night was that there was no act to follow me. I could have done my ten minutes no problem, without holding anybody up. Instead I got booted off the stage without my proper set done.

Minus craic as the lady friend would say

The Crowd: What can I say about the crowd? Well, aside from ten people nobody was there to watch comedy. That's what I can say about the crowd. A group of people there to watch acts will laugh and look at the stage. A group of people there to have pints will look at the stage with disdain, as you intrude on the conversations they are having with your witless shit.

Conclusion: Overall it was, by far, without a shadow of a doubt, the single most tough gig I have ever had to perform at. I was four minutes into my set before I got any laugh from the crowd. I even think I heard a cough at one point. I thought that only happened in American high school movies when somebody says something really embarrassing in front of the entire assembled school.

But there is a glimmer of light in the cease pool of darkness that was last night's gig. It was a Battle of the Axe gig and I won the coveted rubber duck, being proclaimed the best act on the night.

A miracle in itself given the circumstances.

Although it does let me say this one silly little thing. Neil Delamere performed a ten minute set on the night, possibly of new material. But he didn't win the rubber duck. So I can claim that I am funnier than him on the night

Alright not really, but I damn well am. Time to update the old Comedy CV.

"Derek Power - Funnier than Neil Delamere on July 27th 2010*





*Obviously it was a fluke on the night."

Has a nice ring to it .

Blue_jester

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