I am now officially a Manchester resident and am really enjoying my new surroundings.
Although it might rain a ridiculous amount up here, it is much less stressful than London, as well as being friendlier and cheaper.
But now I have my own flat, there are a lot of things from previous houses that I took for granted such as kettles, toasters and internet connection. I’m slowly accumulating the necessary things, although I’m currently writing this from my phone.
As expected, my move didn’t go entirely as planned. I bought a new car from a garage back home especially for the move, with the plan to drive it to London to load up with my stuff and then drive to my new abode.
I paid for insurance, but then found out that because I didn’t have the logbook, I couldn’t tax it and legally drive it. This meant I had to use my trusty old Nissan Micra for the 140 mile drive to London and subsequent 204 mile drive to Didsbury. The marvel of engineering completed the journey with ease and I’m taking her back home again this weekend to collect my new ride now all the paperwork has come through. If my new car’s half as reliable as the Micra, I will be delighted. Being half as reliable may also see me spending a lot more of time on the hardshoulder waiting for help.
I had my first gig as a northwest-based comic last night in Liverpool. It was a bit flat, but I did managed to get some decent sized laughs from a crowd that looked like they’d rather be somewhere else. Mind you, a lot of gold sank without a trace. I have a few more gigs in the diary, but am still just sussing out the circuit.
Last night, I had my first gig of the year. It was a weird one, but a lot of fun.
As it’s still early January, I was expecting it to be a quiet one. But the room in Streatham had around 40 people in, which was substantially larger than the ten or 12 that were on the couple of occasions I’d been there previously.
Although my material got laughs, the biggest responses of my set were when I was just talking to the audience about nothing in particular. Asking people what they were drinking seemed to be the most popular thing, which was all just very bizarre.
I think I only ended up doing five minutes of material, with five minutes of playing around. It worked, even if I can’t really explain why.
I’m going to try and do as many gigs as I can before I leave London on 30 January and have a few more lined up.
Every year, I set myself targets or challenges for the comedy year ahead. For 2015, I set myself a target of 150 gigs and getting something I’d written on the radio. Neither of these ended up materialising, partly due to a lack of organisation, gigs being cancelled, and a whole lot of other stuff going on.
In Manchester, it might be difficult to do as many gigs in London and my tally will take a further hit should I not do the Fringe. But hopefully the gigs that I do will be to larger paying audiences on pro-bills. I also might actually be able to start getting a bit more cash for doing comedy.
In terms of wages, comedy works almost the exact opposite to the rest of the country. Mostly, wages in London are higher than elsewhere in the UK. However, in comedy, it is a lot easier to get paid gigs outside of London, with northern England a particularly good place for this. There is even money for middle 10 minute spots, which are predominantly unpaid in London.
So this year, I’m simply going to set myself the target of writing more material and making more of an effort to book gigs. I’ll be driving when I’m Manchester-based, so that will open up a lot more gig opportunities too.
Now let’s see what 2016 has in store.
As it is the final day of 2015, I will now recap what has taken place in the past 12 months.
I have chalked-up the lowest amount of gigs since I moved to London six years ago, with a measly 105. I’ve previously averaged about another 25 in previous years.
This is for a number of reasons, firstly is that a few of the gigs I relied on previously either stopped this year or were put on hiatus for large periods. I’ve also had much less time to book gigs as since I got promoted in the day job, I have a lot more work to get on with.
I’ve also not been writing anywhere near as much material this year. I’m not entirely sure why this was, partly because the gigs I’d use for trialling this were not available, but it is something I’m planning on rectifying next year. As a result, very little of what I have written has made it into my club sets.
But the one obvious thing is that stands out for 2015 is my Fringe run. I don’t know if you were aware of this, but it actually went pretty well. In fact, I was utterly unprepared for how well it did go. At the start of the year, if I’d been offered the chance to have the Fringe I did in exchange for doing the lowest amount of gigs and new material written then I would have taken it. Actually, I may have refused the deal just to be typically difficult.
Nevertheless, I do feel it has made me complacent and it was difficult going back to the scarce audience surroundings of the London open mic circuit after performing to full rooms throughout August. I can’t really complain though.
Within the next month, I will have moved to Manchester and will be a regular driving comic for the first time ever. I don’t know what the next 12 months will bring, but I am looking forward to them.
Best film: Star Wars – The Force Awakens. I went to the midnight screening and had to be in work for 9am the next day. I was so relieved to discover that the film was good. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hugely enjoyable and got me even more excited about seeing what happens next in the series. Since Walthamstow has had a cinema, I’ve seen far more films than possibly since university.
Best album: The Darkness – Last of Our Kind. No surprises here. I didn’t actually buy that many new albums this year, so it was a toss-up between this one and The Force Awakens soundtrack.
Low of 2015: The Tories getting a majority at the general election. Still, at least David Cameron will be remembered as the prime minister who put his cock in a dead pig.
High of 2015: Edinburgh Fringe.
What I’m looking forward to most about 2016: escaping London and getting my own flat.
It has been some time since I’ve written anything on here and I have some news: I am moving to Manchester in January after six years in London.
When I moved to London at the start of 2010, I knew it would never be permanent; but it has been much longer than I originally planned. Every time I kept trying to leave, something kept making me stay.
I’ve wanted to move up north for some time, as it’s a lot easier to progress to paid gigs. In London, you can do multiple try-out spots at the bigger clubs. Even if you do well every time, there’s no guarantee you’ll end up getting booked for a paid spot. This is partly because there are so many people pushing for a finite amount of gigs.
I’d been looking at the possibility of finally making the break this year, even setting aside five days holiday after Edinburgh specifically for job interviews. Then it turned out that my current company has bought an office in Manchester and wanted to send me there anyway. Thus my ridiculous run of luck in 2015 extends further. I have since ended up using the five days for my first holiday since 2007, with a week in Malta.
Another positive is that my six years of house shares is coming to an end, with some downright bizarre and uncomfortable experiences. Although my current place is my favourite house-share I’ve had, I‘ll be able to rent my own flat in Manchester for what I pay at the moment to live with four other people. I’ve also worked out I’ll be saving around £150 a month on travel, as a monthly pass in Manchester costs the same as a week’s in London. I also plan on buying a car to drive around to more gigs.
I barely know anyone in Manchester and have never been there, which is in line with being a Man United fan when I was growing up. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been hugely positive about the place, and I have some flat viewings booked for next week. This is the start of an exciting new adventure.
I had a couple of weeks off from gigging after Edinburgh in an attempt to recover, although I still don’t feel I fully have.
After performing to packed rooms for three weeks in August, I’ve had a lot of trouble adjusting back to the opposite of this on the London open mic circuit. I’ve done about ten gigs so far and audience numbers have mainly been scarce. On the rare occasion that they have been larger, I’ve not done very well. Perhaps I really was in a parallel universe for a month.
It has been mainly the lows of previous Fringes that have given me motivation to improve when returning to the normal circuit afterwards. But having a good Edinburgh has perhaps increased my expectations unrealistically.
This week, I died on my arse doing five minutes in front of about 15 comedians and one civilian called James. I was trying out some new material that I’d half-written before Edinburgh and had already lost faith in, but I felt the need to try something new out anyway. It was a friendly room, but my half-baked ramblings received indifference.
I needed this. I think it was my subconscious trying to slap me very hard in the face to snap me out of whatever this coma of complacency is that I’m in danger of falling into. I need to get back into the habit of writing regularly again, which I’ve not done for some months. And in a warped kind of way, a bad gig such as this is exactly what I needed.
Failure is healthy in comedy and makes you think harder about improving. Success is not without its downsides, or so I’m told.
I am now adjusting back to normality after the amazing, draining and utterly ridiculous experience that this year’s Fringe has been.
It still doesn’t seem entirely real and I never thought that it would ever go as well. It was a year when almost everything seemed to go right, give or take a few flat shows. I will savour it for as long as I can, because I know that good Fringes can be few and far between.
From 19 shows, 18 were standing-room only. The other one had about six empty chairs.
As I’ve said previously, I am acutely aware that the hundreds of people who came to see the show did not come to see me; they came for the pub quiz element. And I’m fine with that, when no-one knows who you are then you have to come up with a concept for a show that will get people along to see it. Once you have an audience then it’s down to you to win them over, and for the most part I did just that.
Many people loved the show, but there were those who really hated it. And that’s good, I want that. If comedy is not provoking at least some reaction, then it is not doing what it’s meant to do.
I’ve not been used to having full rooms over consecutive days stretching into weeks. It took some adjusting to and used a lot of energy. In previous Fringes, I’ve had full rooms during the run, but these days have been balanced out with quieter ones. It would be stupid to complain about something such as this, but it was a new experience.
I am comfortable with failure and know how to deal with it, mainly through the medium of biscuits. Although success is something I’ve found another challenge entirely, even if it has been on a fairly modest scale.
In the day or two after my run ended, I was adamant that I would take a year off from doing the Fringe. I was utterly shattered and even thinking about 2016 was using too much energy. Yet in the couple of days that followed, my mind started wandering with ideas for what I could do and things have escalated. I expect now that I will probably be doing a show next year.
In How To Win A Pub Quiz, what I have is a concept that requires very little flyering to get a full-room in a venue that’s a fair trek from anywhere. I’m not going to pretend that the show is perfect, but it is a format that works and is usually good fun. Not only that, it can cover its costs. It would be foolish for me to drop it. At the same time, I also want to write an hour of stand-up at some point. Two shows next year is a possibility, even if the very thought is exhausting at the moment.
If I do a show, I don’t know if it’ll be as good as this year, and I don’t know if I’ll ever top this one. I do know that I’ll give it everything and hope for the best. I’ll also stock up on biscuits.
My final show ensured I ended my Fringe on a high in what has been one hell of a run.
The room was packed and about 20 people were turned away. Some of them were interested in coming back for the 8.45pm show.
The crowd wanted to get involved from the start. It has turned into a show where heckling is not only encouraged, but also feels lacking without it. I managed to atone for my implosion in my final show last year and sustained my energy throughout. I even set a new collection record with £108.
I was happy to leave it there and hoping I wouldn’t have to do it all again at 8.45pm. Fortunately, only two people showed up for the second show and were also ten minutes late. I was being a bit overoptimistic with the four people I was expecting.
Since the show finished, I have felt as a great sense of relief. This Fringe has been amazing and gone far better than I ever thought possible at this stage in my comedy life, but I have had to work really hard for it and it has been exhausting.
In other news, I have managed to avoid the Edinblurghy for the first time ever. Even taunting it didn’t make it appear. If it wants to strike now, it is welcome to but should know that it will just be ordinary lurgy.
I will write a post-Fringe analysis of the ridiculousness that this August has been when I am a bit more with it. For now, it is time to have a rest and return to the real-world where I am not a full-time comic. This Fringe may have just given me a glimpse into a possible future, it’s certainly felt like another reality.
I am trying to fool my body into believing that I have two shows left, when I know that just the one is much more likely in reality. Last year, my body gave up on me in my final show, with my mind already heading back to London and I ended the Fringe on a bum note.
In my sprinting days, which admittedly peaked about 20 years ago, I was always taught to run 105 metres instead of 100 to avoid slowly down when reaching the finishing line.
So if I tell myself that I still have another show to do, then I’m hoping my body will prepare itself to shut down towards the end of the second performance. I just hope that it doesn’t find out my plan and sabotage it out of spite.
I started yesterday’s show with four empty seats, which was previously unheard of for a Friday in this run. Fortunately, five people came in late and my standing-room only tally was able to go up.
From the off, I could tell they were going to be a good crowd, with Friday proving to be my best day throughout the Fringe. No-one walked out, everyone laughed in the right places and I rebounded with £98 in my bucket at the end, which is currently my third highest in takings at any Fringe.
In previous Fringes, the last show has usually been a bit of an anti-climax. Then again, this has been a year that I have bucked many trends, so I’m not going to try and predict it what’s about to unfold. I’ve had a great run; I’ve already made a profit for the first time at the Fringe, and I’ve had a lot of fun. Anything else is going to be a bonus.
It has happened, my standing-room only streak has come to an end.
I knew it was inevitable at some point during the run and never thought it would last as long as it did. As time went on, I did wonder if it could last for the whole run, only for the Fringe Gods to snatch it from me at the last minute.
But it doesn’t matter, the fact that it lasted for 18 shows is pretty remarkable given the Kilderkin’s location. Taking into account the 100+ people that have tried to see the show and I’ve not had room for, I would statistically have enough people for at least an extra two gigs.
However, my philosophy that I try and stick to for all gigs is that it doesn’t matter how many people are in the room, they’re there to see a show and I’ll always try and give them all I can.
I had about 25 people in yesterday, which is still a great turnout for a free show in a year that many of my more talented peers have really struggled for audience.
Most of the audience enjoyed the show, but I had five people walk out. This included a group of four that I knew wouldn’t enjoy it before it even began. You get a Spidey sense about particular punters.
I had my lowest takings of the Fringe, with £32. It didn’t feel as bad as Sunday, where I had a full room but made only £4 more. I really can’t complain, I’ve been very lucky this year. Plus £32 and 25 people was more than double both my lowest audience and takings from last year.
The advantage of having a smaller crowd was that it gave me a chance to see if handing out the whiteboards and pens before the show kept things flowing better. I think it worked well enough to warrant me trying it again today. I have two shows left, with the possibility of a third. At the moment, finding the energy for two seems enough of a challenge.
I have received my first proper review this Fringe and it’s a decent write-up.
I got three-stars from Broadway Baby, and there was me saying how the show had really polarised opinions. I can’t really use three stars on future posters, but I can take quite a lot from the nice stuff that they’ve written about me.
This is one of the lines is: “His engagement with the crowd is quick and charming.”
I have now spanned the entire charm spectrum this Fringe, being called both charming and charmless. There’s some other stuff that I can plunder from there as was well.
From the review, it looks like they came in on Monday. Although it was probably the most fun I’ve had at a show, I did mess up a few things and know I can do better.
They do pick-up on me taking too much time handing out stationary, which isn’t something that comes up in many reviews. They also referenced me swallowing words around a few punchlines, which is something that can be traced right back to my time in plays at school and is much more prominent when I’m tired.
It would be nice to have at least four-stars, but I’m not overly fussed about it. Ultimately, how well I do in comedy is going to be down to me rather than the words, however nice, of someone I’ll probably never know.
Yesterday’s show was good fun. It was a little quieter than other days, but still ended up being standing-room only as a few people came in late and my streak was thus maintained. They were a nice crowd, but not quite as loud as Monday. I made £76, which isn’t a bad at all.
I have three shows left, but am currently considering doing an extra one as the 8.45pm slot at the Kilderkin will be free on Saturday. It all depends on whether or not there’s enough demand. I could quite easily see 30 people being turned away from my first show, only for four to turn up to the second.