A couple of days ago I emailed Stewart Lee about the possibility of interviewing him prior to his gig in Nottingham later this month. Richard Herring passed on my email address to him, copying me in to Lee, and had already told me not to hold my breath as Stewart Lee isn't really one for a lot of interviews. Deciding on a 'who dares wins' attitude of not knowing until you try, I sent a polite email to one of this country's finest comedians to request an audience. I included links to my past interviews with Richard, and my published reviews of his gigs, just to show that as a fan first and journalist second I could be trusted. All I had to do now was wait for a yes or a no. Checking my emails, I was surprised to see an email from Stewart Lee appear, and steeled myself for the fact that it might be a negative reply.
It was a nice enough email, friendly, and all that. However, it didn't answer my enquiry about an interview. Stewart had been doing some research recently into the L.P. The Krankies Go To Hollywood, which Richard Herring had bought him for his 19th birthday. He googled the album name, and ended up at this blog. I tried it myself and to my surprise, the blog turns up on the first page of Google. This is good, seeing as nobody goes to page two and beyond. I started to wonder if this would make a good dialogue for a stand up show. An Edinburgh Festival show, in which I dissect the most unusual emails ever received and sent, with extra points for receiving them from someone famous. Maybe I could put together a show in which Stewart and myself listen to and analyse The Krankies one LP record release, song by song. Perhaps The Krankies would be available to make it a 'round table' discussion?
Then again, maybe not.
Showing posts with label Stewart Lee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stewart Lee. Show all posts
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Today is 'wear a skirt like a ballerina' day. 2/2
Last night I attended, in my capacity as reviewer for The Nottingham Evening Post, (as I still call it) a gig called Setlist. A handful of big name comedians performed stand up routines about subjects that appeared on a screen behind them. Billed as 'comedy without a net', it was comedians showing off their improvisational skills to whole new limits. Below in bold and italic, is the first draft of my review, before I had to snip it to 300 words:
For a well established stand-up with a full diary, the concept of Setlist should on paper be something to avoid. Billed as ‘comedy without a net’, this is where those carefully written routines that have travelled the country get left behind, and a routine gets created on the spot using random words that appear on the screen behind them. Imagine karaoke where you don’t know the song and you’re almost there.
The first comic, Matt Kirshen, seemed nervous at first, but soon showed himself to be a skilled improviser, flitting effortlessly between subjects as the screen changed. Paul Foot was next, this concept seemed tailored for his surreal style, and his slow rambling delivery appeared to be providing him with thinking time as he went along.
Tom Stade was sadly the low point of the night, with sections of the crowd laughing at the shock factor rather than anything funny being said, he came across as the annoying kid shouting ‘bum’ in school to impress his classmates.
The biggest cheer of recognition so far came for Rufus Hound, who proved that there is much more to him than all those TV panel shows he has trouble saying no to. He was the most relaxed performer of the first half, and obviously a seasoned improviser, helped along of course by being impossible to dislike.
Adam Bloom was perhaps the less well known of the bill, after an admittedly nervous start he found his stride with a filthy routine that was one of the funniest of the night, although sadly no detail of his act can be quoted in this review. Brendan Burns recognised a member of the audience from a prior gig, and bemoaned his lack of fame, saying that even 8 Out Of 10 Cats didn’t want him.
The headliner was Rich Hall, who started as he meant to go on in his shouting rambling style. Opening with a slogan for The Cornerhouse that their PR maybe won’t want to use, he directed his entire set at a student in the front row, punctuating with ‘don’t look around like I’m not talking to you’. Such was his apparent disdain for the Setlist concept, that his final punch line picked from the bucket got passed around the crowd, so we could each have our own private laugh.
My final draft, with a few editorial changes that I didn't make, can be found today on the website for The Nottingham Evening Post, (as I still call it). It will be in tomorrow's paper. That's how it works, get home from the gig, write about it, email it, website next day, print the day after. It's here anyway.
My interest and ambition towards the world of stand up comedy has recently started to glimmer again. Part of this is reading books by Stewart Lee, (How I Escaped My Certain Fate) and Richard Herring, (How Not To Grow Up), and part of it is down to working with Erik on the radio show. I know it is a rough business to get into, lonely and with little financial reward, but that is also what makes it sound exciting. When I briefly did comedy in my late teens, I mainly relied on character based stand up, (I had a character called Ronnie 'Chubby' Corbett, a hybrid comedian in an armchair who would start off by telling a seemingly harmless joke, before getting to the expletive filled punchline delivered in a Teesside/Geordie accent. It gave me chance to show off my Ronnie Corbett impression, and swear copiously), and sketches. I've never done actual stand up comedy, but it does appeal to me. Working with Erik on the radio has given me back the need to think on my feet and make the show funny. Once we get into making the podcasts, the comedy element of our partnership will blossom, hopefully. Maybe we should do a live version at some point, after all we are following the Collings and Herrin model, although BBC 6Music are yet to offer us the Saturday 10am-1pm slot.
Last night I attended, in my capacity as reviewer for The Nottingham Evening Post, (as I still call it) a gig called Setlist. A handful of big name comedians performed stand up routines about subjects that appeared on a screen behind them. Billed as 'comedy without a net', it was comedians showing off their improvisational skills to whole new limits. Below in bold and italic, is the first draft of my review, before I had to snip it to 300 words:
For a well established stand-up with a full diary, the concept of Setlist should on paper be something to avoid. Billed as ‘comedy without a net’, this is where those carefully written routines that have travelled the country get left behind, and a routine gets created on the spot using random words that appear on the screen behind them. Imagine karaoke where you don’t know the song and you’re almost there.
The first comic, Matt Kirshen, seemed nervous at first, but soon showed himself to be a skilled improviser, flitting effortlessly between subjects as the screen changed. Paul Foot was next, this concept seemed tailored for his surreal style, and his slow rambling delivery appeared to be providing him with thinking time as he went along.
Tom Stade was sadly the low point of the night, with sections of the crowd laughing at the shock factor rather than anything funny being said, he came across as the annoying kid shouting ‘bum’ in school to impress his classmates.
The biggest cheer of recognition so far came for Rufus Hound, who proved that there is much more to him than all those TV panel shows he has trouble saying no to. He was the most relaxed performer of the first half, and obviously a seasoned improviser, helped along of course by being impossible to dislike.
Adam Bloom was perhaps the less well known of the bill, after an admittedly nervous start he found his stride with a filthy routine that was one of the funniest of the night, although sadly no detail of his act can be quoted in this review. Brendan Burns recognised a member of the audience from a prior gig, and bemoaned his lack of fame, saying that even 8 Out Of 10 Cats didn’t want him.
The headliner was Rich Hall, who started as he meant to go on in his shouting rambling style. Opening with a slogan for The Cornerhouse that their PR maybe won’t want to use, he directed his entire set at a student in the front row, punctuating with ‘don’t look around like I’m not talking to you’. Such was his apparent disdain for the Setlist concept, that his final punch line picked from the bucket got passed around the crowd, so we could each have our own private laugh.
My final draft, with a few editorial changes that I didn't make, can be found today on the website for The Nottingham Evening Post, (as I still call it). It will be in tomorrow's paper. That's how it works, get home from the gig, write about it, email it, website next day, print the day after. It's here anyway.
My interest and ambition towards the world of stand up comedy has recently started to glimmer again. Part of this is reading books by Stewart Lee, (How I Escaped My Certain Fate) and Richard Herring, (How Not To Grow Up), and part of it is down to working with Erik on the radio show. I know it is a rough business to get into, lonely and with little financial reward, but that is also what makes it sound exciting. When I briefly did comedy in my late teens, I mainly relied on character based stand up, (I had a character called Ronnie 'Chubby' Corbett, a hybrid comedian in an armchair who would start off by telling a seemingly harmless joke, before getting to the expletive filled punchline delivered in a Teesside/Geordie accent. It gave me chance to show off my Ronnie Corbett impression, and swear copiously), and sketches. I've never done actual stand up comedy, but it does appeal to me. Working with Erik on the radio has given me back the need to think on my feet and make the show funny. Once we get into making the podcasts, the comedy element of our partnership will blossom, hopefully. Maybe we should do a live version at some point, after all we are following the Collings and Herrin model, although BBC 6Music are yet to offer us the Saturday 10am-1pm slot.
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