Week 2 is, and always will be, my favourite week at the fringe. Week 3, though, always has the feel of a bit of a struggle. It's a tough balancing act; the acts are knackered but new audiences are coming in for the final few days, all brimming with optimism, unaware at how tired we all are. Especially when you're doing four shows a day.
I took that into account when watching shows, only managed to catch a couple more - Nick Helm's musical, and Max & Ivan, both safe bets, both amazing.
Meanwhile, my shows ended pretty well. Harvey remained really strong throughout the whole run - it's an odd one, I was always tired walking in from the flat, and often hungover (including one night where I was out with a bunch of BBC producers until 2am, they had seen the show and spent several hours/8 pints telling me this, it's just a shame I can't remember what was actually agreed moving forward) but as soon as I put on the costume - the Harvey shirt, tie and coat, I 'became' the character. The costume, which was mostly an accident but evolved during the previews, has helped a lot...I just jiggle my shoulders as Harvey would, pace a bit more. It totally stinks and I'm not at all offended that, as soon as the show would finish, the venue front of house team would run in and open all of the windows. Numbers were good, I mean, not spectacular, but double figures every day for an 11.30am show is still respectable. Really nice to see an old school friend, Dave, turn up randomly.
The problem I was having was that I was just getting bored of HOP. My team kept it going for me - Eamon and Rachel in particular have been absolute legends, but now that show is far from being my priority, it's a bit of a challenge to give it the energy it deserves. And it needs a LOT of energy. Audiences still loved it, but I need a break from that show after doing it everywhere for 3 years. I made quite a lot of money doing it, though, which helped a lot in very expensive Edinburgh.
Dom's gig was easy, if anything I was enjoying it more than anything else I was doing as I just got to drum and it didn't take up any brain space. Chad is a gift of a musician to be onstage with and we'll certainly work together again soon. Dom's a class act; not to everyone's taste, but top-level stuff and I learnt a lot from him (and he pays well).
Not that I want to be a comedian anymore anyway. I'm just not into it anymore, preferring one-man plays which is still a good vehicle for my comedic ambitions without having to do the circuit and then enter a venue where people are sat with their arms folded asking, "are you funny, then?" as if they're somehow entitled. The plan going into Edinburgh was that this would be my last ever stand-up show, and a nice show it is, too, and at the end of the run that's me done with stand-up forever (apart from a few London gigs for a promoter friend). The problem was that my venue was an absolute shit hole, with puke in corners of the corridors, overly aggressive bouncers and 8 venues in one meaning we're all competing for flyering space. It was just horrible, for a month, and I'm amazed anyone came at all. Not many did, those who did were mostly friends or people who had seen me before. People who were actively seeking me, because they like my act, not people randomly stumbling in.
That was until the final night, when it looked like I had an audience of three strangers - three young ladies, who seemed friendly. They had no idea what the show was, but were heading to a show later and wanted to see a show in this vicinity at my time slot, so it worked well. I started the show, they seemed happy with the gentle nature of it, and then 12 rugby players, with their girlfriends walked in. They were pissed out of their faces, they wanted to like me and were honestly quite friendly, but about 2 minutes in I stopped it and just said, "fuck it - let's just have a singsong instead" and they all roared with joy. What happened then was the loudest version of HOP ever, but they were having a great time...until the show next door complained that we were too loud. It's a terrible venue, the walls separating the rooms were practically cardboard, so I understood the complaint and ended the show there.
The rugby players were annoyed; the guy who complained has stopped their fun, and how dare he! A couple of them went to 'have a word' with the guy, fists ready, but initially I asked them not to - told them to just go into a bar, I thanked them for their time, a few of them bunged me a fiver and most of them hugged me, calling me a "legend, and not just some c*nt who we have to watch, trying to make us laugh, you gave us what we want - a fucking good singalong". Turns out, all you have to do to keep a bunch of burly, Glaswegian rugby players happy, is give them a notepad with the lyrics to YMCA in it.
One of the rugby players then ignored my request and went into the other room to have his 'word' with the guy who stopped his fun, but I didn't care - it's the last night, and the guy who had been complaining had been drowning me out for the last month so he probably deserved it. I don't know what happened in that room; Rachel (who had popped in half-way through to see my final stand-up show and instead witnessed all of the chaos) and I quickly nipped to a bar around the corner and left them to it.
And that was my final ever stand-up gig. Fitting, somehow.
Went to see PBH's last comedians gig, an iconic event (in which my mate Steve was AMAZING as the guest) and then a few of us went to the aftershow party. Can't remember much of the evening, but I do remember, randomly, one of drum students, Zoltan, being there, and my mate Jenni said the next day that we staggered out of the Banshee Laybrinth at 4am. I do remember having a really lovely time, with lots of people I know and like, including the staff there who have always been lovely to me.
It's the fringe, I've worked hard for this.
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