27/01/08
Pass the Blame -
Categories: Its all back in full swing this week with gigs left, right and centre. Of the UK that is, in just seven days I've been to the North, Midlands, London and Wales for comedy purposes. Obviously for comedy purposes I might add, as I'd like to re-iterate that there would be little to no chance of me ever visiting any of these venues for the sheer fun of it.
Its been a mixed bag of gigs too. None were amazing, but at the same time none were particularly bad. Wherever they were let down, I feel I can confidentially say it was to do with either the venue or crowd, but not me. Had a tough crowd to MC in a student venue full of science geeks. That wasn't the (main) problem, but lack of monitors past the front of the stage meant that two thirds of the crowd couldn't hear a word. That and they were science geeks. Regardless of what defence you may give science geeks they are inherently social misfits. They have to be otherwise they wouldn't spend enough time in their labs curing aids and cancer and instead would be out shagging and drinking. In the end we have to be grateful that they have no friends.
Then there was the lovely Welsh gig that started with a bunch of people who didn't want to have any crowd response until they'd had enough booze. Luckily enough, after taking a 'bullet for the team' for the first 15 minutes, they opened up and it became lovely, not least because I endured my favorite and most polite heckle of all time from an 80 year old man who called me a 'doughnut'. I was so thrown by the mildness of that insult and the fact I hadn't understood a single word of the welsh sentence that had preceded it, that I had to just compliment the man on his sugary baked goods based cuss.
Then lastly, last night a hot sweaty stuffy room, with a gig that ran on far too long and a crowd that had drunk too much and were too tired by the time myself and the final act got on stage. I could also be slightly bitchy and say that the crowd horrifically cackled loudly at the first super hack comic (names shall not be named) only to enjoy anyone more wordy slightly less, but as I say, that would be unnecessarily mean.
I've managed to convince myself that on all of those occasions it wasn't my fault I didn't enjoy the gigs as much as I should've done. Its amazing how comedy is one of the few jobs where the customer isn't always right, and it can be variables other than the performer that ruin the show. Mario Joyner who has been supporting Chris Rock on his tour had a lovely bit of material about this, explaining how you wouldn't have a pilot blaming the people at the back for a bumpy ride etc.
A lot of people say this and sometimes its indisputable - see http://blogs.chortle.co.uk/tiernan/2007/10/ for post 'I hate Students' as a prime example - but most other times I cant help but have a nagging feeling I could have done something about it if I was a more experienced comic. I tend to leave a gig thinking if I'd just said that, done this or approached it like that, there must have been a way to make that crowd seem less like the undead on a sponsored sleep/mute-a-thon. I've seen top acts grapple with a crowd or room difficulties until suddenly the gig is theirs, and its a great thing to witness. I'd like to mention that this has happened to me once or twice, but I also find myself slipping into the mind frame that the gig is already lost and so I have to do my job and abandon ship. I'm hoping that the willpower to became a comedy vigilante appears with time.
Of course, then on rare occasion I witness the acts I've seen save gigs, suffer at the hands of a stubborn arsed crowd and revert back to the original thought that people are shit and I really should live in a cave with my Nintendo Wii, I-pod and a good book. I've just read that last statement back to myself and wonder if I am a grumpy 80 year old man trapped inside the body of a 27 year old. Of course if I am then it means that by right I can call people 'doughnuts', which makes it all worthwhile.
Also this week have bumped into fellow humour merchants all over the place. From the tube and random service stations on the M1 (not that unlikely considering how often we frequent such areas) to a busy shop and my local hospital. Are they following me to check that I'm not doing non-comedy things on the side like undercover comedy police? Worrying that I might be indulging in other culture or just being miserable? Or perhaps they are just being normal people and once again I've had a tad too much sugar and have become over imaginative again. Not to self, get Ribena light next time.....
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