Today is my last performance of the show "Better Off Ed." I wanted this show to be the stand up show I really wanted to do. I wanted to tie everything together - anger, expectations, hopes and fears. Life in a show. I think I have touched on that. I think this show could be developed and made into that. But not to four people a night. There are so many good shows, there are so many great acts. The majority have to be disregarded for a few to be selected as worthwhile.
Meanwhile, my Roman show is evolving. More of me is going into it. Previously, I complained that it's not the kind of show that can be repeated every day - but I think that's true of all shows. You just have to find a way. I am letting go of the other stuff. This is my future. I want to people to be fascinated and make them laugh. The Rome show is a harder bugger to master. On a good day it's a very good show. On a bad day, it's so difficult just to keep going. With my other stand up, I can always break off into audience banter or just try something out. With the Rome show, I can't divert much. The last few days have been a very good run of shows. But this in Edinburgh. That can change at any time. I know when things are starting to go wrong. I can feel my face freeze up. My eyebrows actually start to hurt, as if my face is trying to contort life into the audience.
Yesterday, people went away smiling widely, eyes gleaming. On Sunday, they look embarrassed or tried to smile encouragingly. One old man said: "It was great in terms of energy." There hasn't been a more damning review. Triumph and disaster. "Treat those two impostors just the same."
Yesterday was the real test. I managed to get two people upstairs to the landing to the see the evening show. A father and daughter. They were hesitant. The father was earnest: "We won't stay if it's not funny. We could get an early train back" he said quite earnestly. I sat down and talked to them. They warmed a little. Then a couple came up. One of them knew my brother. Two people from flyering. Two people connected to my brother. A PR triumph!
Introduced everyone and then waited for everyone to get drinks and off we went. Things were going well. The material was flowing the goodwill was strong. It wasn't going to be bad. I was going to make a room of 4 people playable. Then two boys came up. One of them, Ramsay, demanded a recap of everything that had happened. He was mouthy and assertive and 19 and a huge fan of himself. He listened to a bit of the show and then actually laughed. He was being won over. Then disaster. They were joined by 6 drunken girls. Ramsay lost it. He was showing off. I did my story about thinking I had contracted AIDs from a bannister aged 7. Ramsay said: "He gave his mum AIDs!" They all burst into laughter. I tried to half deal with them and half continue. Some of the material was landing but I was having to put out too many fires. The daughter and father started to shift uncomfortably. They then got up to go. They had been really enjoying it. Those bastards had driven them off.
I had no alternative. I told the 19 year olds to come up to the front and take their seats. If it was going to go to hell, better that I could keep an eye on them. One of them got up and asked if she could do karaoke. Ramsay got up and put his arm round my shoulder to suggest dominance. Ramsay was keen to assert himself as King of the Group. Some of them settled down and started to listen. One girl gave a running commentary on everything. I singled her out for a few face to face canon blasts. That shut her up. I was on the verge of bullying, but I had little choice. Some of them went. Others stayed. They listened and laughed. Then they checked their phones. I was performing to 7 people. Three of whom were also checking Facebook.
I got through the show and was relieved when they went. My brother's friends were still there. They had been loyal and laughing the whole time. They expressed disappointment that they weren't allowed to hear the whole show. But these kids weren't like the massive group of boys I'd had before. The boys were disruptive, but they weren't saboteurs. These guys were like the class from hell. I don't think they were bad people - they were just misbehaving little shits. Ramsay cam back up and felt the need to tell me about all the places he'd lived - posh places - and then said "We love you, Ed" because he wanted to show me that he was popular and handsome and universally admired and that he'd just been having fun.
That's the worst kind of dick. The one who thinks their actions are excusable. That they're decent people. I think in all likelihood he will look back at himself aged 19 and blush. Or he may not. Sometimes it feels like we are producing fewer self-aware people every year. Self-awareness and pensions. Seemingly unsustainable.
I then had an enjoyable evening with the two other guys. Pints and whiskies. We ended up at Canongate, where the bartender refused to serve me as I was hiccuping. It felt like I was in a Disney film. Or in the early nineteenth century. "Rough-housers, pettifoggers and personnes of a low disposition will not be admitted." Arguing your case while hiccuping is very difficult. It's like arguing that you are a really decent person whilst being naked. Or trying to convey the idea that you're a decent guy whilst heckling a stand up show to destruction.
Yesterday was the real test. I managed to get two people upstairs to the landing to the see the evening show. A father and daughter. They were hesitant. The father was earnest: "We won't stay if it's not funny. We could get an early train back" he said quite earnestly. I sat down and talked to them. They warmed a little. Then a couple came up. One of them knew my brother. Two people from flyering. Two people connected to my brother. A PR triumph!
Introduced everyone and then waited for everyone to get drinks and off we went. Things were going well. The material was flowing the goodwill was strong. It wasn't going to be bad. I was going to make a room of 4 people playable. Then two boys came up. One of them, Ramsay, demanded a recap of everything that had happened. He was mouthy and assertive and 19 and a huge fan of himself. He listened to a bit of the show and then actually laughed. He was being won over. Then disaster. They were joined by 6 drunken girls. Ramsay lost it. He was showing off. I did my story about thinking I had contracted AIDs from a bannister aged 7. Ramsay said: "He gave his mum AIDs!" They all burst into laughter. I tried to half deal with them and half continue. Some of the material was landing but I was having to put out too many fires. The daughter and father started to shift uncomfortably. They then got up to go. They had been really enjoying it. Those bastards had driven them off.
I had no alternative. I told the 19 year olds to come up to the front and take their seats. If it was going to go to hell, better that I could keep an eye on them. One of them got up and asked if she could do karaoke. Ramsay got up and put his arm round my shoulder to suggest dominance. Ramsay was keen to assert himself as King of the Group. Some of them settled down and started to listen. One girl gave a running commentary on everything. I singled her out for a few face to face canon blasts. That shut her up. I was on the verge of bullying, but I had little choice. Some of them went. Others stayed. They listened and laughed. Then they checked their phones. I was performing to 7 people. Three of whom were also checking Facebook.
I got through the show and was relieved when they went. My brother's friends were still there. They had been loyal and laughing the whole time. They expressed disappointment that they weren't allowed to hear the whole show. But these kids weren't like the massive group of boys I'd had before. The boys were disruptive, but they weren't saboteurs. These guys were like the class from hell. I don't think they were bad people - they were just misbehaving little shits. Ramsay cam back up and felt the need to tell me about all the places he'd lived - posh places - and then said "We love you, Ed" because he wanted to show me that he was popular and handsome and universally admired and that he'd just been having fun.
That's the worst kind of dick. The one who thinks their actions are excusable. That they're decent people. I think in all likelihood he will look back at himself aged 19 and blush. Or he may not. Sometimes it feels like we are producing fewer self-aware people every year. Self-awareness and pensions. Seemingly unsustainable.
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| No hic-hiccuping. |
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