A Tight Five
In the basement of a pub near Tufnell Park, it was an inauspicious start
to my comedy year. 15 acts, zero audience members and several
punchlines searching for a laugh that was proving elusive. One of them
asks if any of us want to borrow his hair gel. I do not.
I decided to do a five minute set that I've been taking around a few open mic gigs for the past couples of months. A generous interpretation on the result would be a 25% success rate. My biggest laughs came from a couple of pieces of improvisation whilst my crafted jokes went down to nothing or very little. I still find it infuriating after this time, which at least proves I still care. Although it also suggests that I don't learn, having been down this road many times before.
It's a familiar thought process. The stand up comedian who needs to apportion blame everywhere except his own door to get over a disappointing performance. On the other hand, pre CBT I would have quit stand up on the way home, my brain having made a series of convincing arguments as to why I was a disgrace to the art form. Now, I've developed a more rational mindset. Sarah Millican's advice mentioned in the previous blog is also helpful in this regard. I know that those jokes work, albeit that some of them may need tweaking. It's ok to acknowledge my rustiness from some time away that affected my delivery and left me stumbling over a couple of setups. The sharpness will return in time.
To send the blame outwards though, acts are a terrible audience. We are quite frequently, a band of self-interested dicks. Occasionally some will play to the gallery, referencing their fellow acts by name. I have absolutely no interest in this whatsoever. Some of the nights I've performed at feel more like social clubs. My aim is to try out new bits of material amongst the parts of my set that I know work. If an open mic night doesn't provide at least a vague approximation of a real comedy audience, it's somewhat futile as an exercise.
I hope for better from Dalston on Thursday. In the meantime, back to the accountancy grindstone.
I decided to do a five minute set that I've been taking around a few open mic gigs for the past couples of months. A generous interpretation on the result would be a 25% success rate. My biggest laughs came from a couple of pieces of improvisation whilst my crafted jokes went down to nothing or very little. I still find it infuriating after this time, which at least proves I still care. Although it also suggests that I don't learn, having been down this road many times before.
It's a familiar thought process. The stand up comedian who needs to apportion blame everywhere except his own door to get over a disappointing performance. On the other hand, pre CBT I would have quit stand up on the way home, my brain having made a series of convincing arguments as to why I was a disgrace to the art form. Now, I've developed a more rational mindset. Sarah Millican's advice mentioned in the previous blog is also helpful in this regard. I know that those jokes work, albeit that some of them may need tweaking. It's ok to acknowledge my rustiness from some time away that affected my delivery and left me stumbling over a couple of setups. The sharpness will return in time.
To send the blame outwards though, acts are a terrible audience. We are quite frequently, a band of self-interested dicks. Occasionally some will play to the gallery, referencing their fellow acts by name. I have absolutely no interest in this whatsoever. Some of the nights I've performed at feel more like social clubs. My aim is to try out new bits of material amongst the parts of my set that I know work. If an open mic night doesn't provide at least a vague approximation of a real comedy audience, it's somewhat futile as an exercise.
I hope for better from Dalston on Thursday. In the meantime, back to the accountancy grindstone.
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