Last night I was lucky enough to gig with the Canadian philosopher Mike Wilmot who put something into brilliant perspective for me. In a round about way, Mike pointed out to me that I didn't hate Peter Kay at all. At first, I felt dubious of this opinion because I could have sworn that I definitely did hate him. I could have sworn that I wanted to force feed Garlic Bread and Spangles down the boring dullards throat until he exploded and then bathed in his awful, awful guts but Mike was sure I was wrong. He pointed out in a very calm, rational, albeit quite drunk fashion that it wasn't Peter Kay I hated, it was his audience. I immediately went wide-eyed and felt a warm light hit my face. He was completely right. It's the people who put Peter Kay where he is today, and still support him, that are the true villains in this piece. Why are they doing it? What are they possibly getting out of it? Surely, there can't be that many people who still need to be reminded of things like Space-Hoppers and the Dairy Box adverts, mainly due to the fact that anyone who was around then hasn't forgotten them. So, what can we do to stop this audience from further supporting, basically, nothing? I think I'm not going to beat Peter Kay so instead I'm going to join him. From now on my blog is going to be swamped in pointless reminders of the past so soon people who loved him will love me instead and when they come to see me do a gig they won't see me talking about pointless things like Cola-Cubes because I talk about pointless things like Lidl, which is quite modern. HA HA! They won't hear a single reference to the '70's but by then it'll be too late because Peter Kay fans can't really think for themselves and they'll just have to go along with my shit instead of his. OK, it needs a bit of work but it's worth a try, isn't it? If a blog by a total nobody can bring down Peter Kay it's worth supporting so please pass my blog onto any Peter Kay fans that you're lumbered with in your life. They'll like my blog. Starting now.
So, last night on stage at The Boat Show, like a bag of Rancheros, I was swallowed up and turned to shit. I'm not saying I died (unlike Reginald Bosanquet, eh? Remember him?) but I just couldn't get the audience at all. They pretty much tolerated me as I grasped for straws (CRAZY STRAWS! What happened to them?) and ran out of things to say. It was a far cry from how I felt at the Christmas gig on friday when I was all confidence and swagger. Maybe it was the audience? Yeah. Maybe it was them and not me at all. Maybe they were just a bunch of boring idiots who didn't get cutting edge comedy about Lidl like what I was giving them. Maybe I was brilliant and they were just a shit, shit crowd, eh? Micky Flanagan, Doc Brown, Hal Cruttenden and Mike Wilmot all went on stage and were incredible. Probably the best night of comedy I've seen in quite a while, really. All of them got the big laughs and applause that they deserved so maybe it was me after all. Of course, I'm being hard, like a gobstopper, on myself. Lots of people came up to me afterwards to say thank you and well done. Lots of them. Admittedly, I was standing next to either Mike Wilmot or Doc Brown at the time so it would have been pretty rude to just ignore me and they were nice people. I basically got the We're-All-Winners-At-The-Special-Olympics pat on the head that I probably deserved. Hey, at least I turned up. Like Jeans in the 70's.
I really need to pull my finger out and start writing my one-man show for Edinburgh. I have a preview in February and I haven't even come up with a solid idea of what it's going to be about. I've never done a solo show before and I'm scared. There are several problems with my one-man show; Firstly, it's badly cast. I would have gone for Stewart Lee or Bill Murray but neither of them replied to my thousands of emails. Secondly, it's not written. Still at least I've got a press quote for the preview in February. It's part of the (of all places) Leicester comedy Festival and the quote I've used is actually from a The Clock Hour review stating "He's the best thing in the show". For anyone's solo show that has to be a good thing.
2 comments:
This evening's performance for Chirldren in need was cringe worthy, but not in a good way. Bereft of ideas and likeability, I was relieved when it ended. I loved Phoenix nights, and it makes me sad to think he's not the man I thought he was.
And don't even mention his book.
Loved this.
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