Another night, another gig, another lesson.

Venturing into the near but not quite London locality, I had been apprehensive about the gig at the White Bear in Ruislip. A comedian from the show on Monday had tipped me off that it could be a tough one, while a mate from work showed up to offer support – Cheers Alex, You’ve bagged yourself front row at my first and inevitably sold out 02 gig!  Sorry to those I didn’t tell, didn’t get it confirmed until quite late on.

Journey down was horrendous; I avoided the M25 as recommended, but managed to hit non-stop road works on the way down my alternative route.

An hour and twenty minutes later, I arrive and mingle, always good people on the circuit. Mike Lord who ran the gig from Monday night was on as an act too, and I met a lovely comedian named Pamela Hilton. There were eighteen names on the bill, of which I was the thirteenth – great omen huh? The longest act list I’ve been part of as yet and some of the other acts were extremely well supported.

The show starts and straight away the MC, comedy impressionist Steve Williams, is calling me and Alex to seats nearer the front. He asked if I was performing tonight, and left me alone when I said ‘I am, yes’. Alex didn’t have the get out of jail card so took a minor ribbing, and took it well.

The show started and there were 9 back-to-back acts before the break, and I was fourth after the break. Just before I went on, a couple of people left, unfortunately one of whom I’d thought of a good gag for. Always (at least) one good joke that gets away.

I was knackered having been up since before 5am and I hit the stage at 1050pm (had been due on at around 9.30pm). I felt very lethargic by the time my turn came around, which was the first time that’s happened. Anyway, on I went to claim my five minutes of stage time.

Having watched it back more than once, the first half was solid with good laughs, a couple of very big laughs, but then the laughs were harder to find second half. They were there, but for some reason a lot quieter than during the first half. It was like I’d lost their attention literally at the half way mark. Parts of my act which usually hit the spot just passed without response. It’s an odd feeling when you have a tried and tested gag which passes almost as if it were just a statement of fact.

I had been warned about keeping to five minutes and while I was happy with the delivery, I could have done with slowing down a bit and leaving more room for laughter.

There is a great analogy for subconsciously training the audience to cut their laughter. Ivan Pavlov, a Russian physiologist known primarily for his work in classical conditioning, reportedly rang a bell each time he fed his dogs. Any he time he rang a bell after this, the dogs would immediately salivate. They had been conditioned, in the same way that an audience will be conditioned to stop laughing for too long if you keep just moving on to the next thing while they are still laughing – because you are watching the clock.

Naturally, I’d wanted to smash the place down the first time that someone I knew outside of comedy (other than my wife) was seeing it live and I am generally sadistically self-critical. As usual, I felt much better when watching it back afterwards; in terms of laughter I would pitch the response to my set as somewhere in the middle overall. Wasn’t bad, wasn’t great.

As I returned to my seat, Steve (the MC) went back to Alex to comment on the fact he was recording it for me. Other comedians recorded their sets but it hadn’t been mentioned so I wanted to run around and tell everyone I wasn’t recording it because I am egotistical arsehole (that’s just a coincidence), but it is to improve my set. I remember very little while I’m up there, so I need to be able to watch it out without thinking about the words or actions that I need to remember for the next gag.

Some of the stronger acts experienced the same but showed an energy that took the room back once it had started to quell, and it’s definitely one for the list of things to work on. I was more concerned about the journey there and the time I was on than the fact I was going up, it must be becoming more ‘normal’ for me.

Afterwards the acts were called up to the stage for a ‘clap-off’ to see who won – and I was missed. I was starting to think I’d upset someone somewhere along the line.

Then the person who brought the most people inevitably got the loudest cheer and won. She was very funny to be fair and had brought a good crowd so fair play to her, but there were two other strong acts I thought should have been in with a shout (no, not me).

Another well organised gig with a great set up, huge thanks to Pete Jee of Havana Laugh for the opportunity and the hard work behind putting a night like this on.

I left more tired than I’d been in a while, and resolved to try and avoid being 13^th on where I can. Either that or learn to keep the energy up for a far longer period than I’d been used to.

During the drive back I kept asking myself if this was my first ‘bombing’ – but having watched it back, it definitely wasn’t. It’s still weird how the perception can be different from when you are up on stage. It does make you wonder what kind of drive home it will be when the time does come. I’m certain it’s going to be a shitty one.

Few weeks now to work on my material, particularly the latter half, to make sure I can have a happy drive home again for on my next gig. As Winston Churchill said, “Difficulties mastered are opportunities won”. And I likes winning, does me.

Until then, thanks for support and enjoy the weekend!

James

I survived gig number two last night, JAM Comedy at Robinsons Wine bar in Newport Pagnell.

Unlike my first gig, I went to work as normal in the day which helped quell nerves but by late afternoon my mind was wandering and I was back to picturing 20000 hilarity-struck fans at the 02 Centre, London.

Given my directional uncertainty with regards to the venue, I left with plenty of time to spare. As I left, my almost-five-year –old was inconsolable because Daddy wasn’t around for bed time. I do read a bloody good story.

Arriving soon after 7pm, I was one of the first there. I met Mike Lord, who kindly allowed me a place on his stage. It’s easy to overlook the task of putting on a comedy night, particularly a recurring night, and it’s something I am in admiration of. One day, it would be great to put on a gig, if only to have a guaranteed slot on a local night!

Three comics from my first gig were on, Frantique Byrne, Winter Foenander, and Ryan Jones. It’s a small world, this circuit. I chewed the fat with Ryan and a new comedian I met, the fantastically funny Jake Pickford. Looking at my watch, which had stopped, was pointless but my phone confirmed start time was nigh.

The audience had a large make up of comedians which was daunting as I’d been warned about them (us?) being a tough audience. Stripped of the luxury of a dressing room, I sat in the audience waiting to be called onto the stage. Third act up, my time duly arrived and before I knew it, the mic was in my hand.

I felt nervous but in a different way than the first gig, that was just the thought of standing up in front of people. Standing up in front of comedy connoisseurs is a whole different ball game and it took me a few seconds to get my head around.

Started off ok, commenting on my introduction, and then nailing the first line. Then I got a little tongue tied for the second gag. Watching it back, it was 3 or 4 seconds and you hardly noticed it but while up there, it felt like a custodial sentence.

I picked up after that and found myself growing in confidence, just as happened at the first gig. I ran through the rest of the set and got decent laughter, missed one of the new sections, but managed to disguise it well enough. Shame though, that was a good gag!

Another discovery is that the walk back to your seat in the audience feels slightly awkward. This is the typical arrangement at these comedy nights so I need to get used to it fast, but last night I just seemed to employ tunnel vision back to my seat. Mike, who was mc, then came on and told that audience that it was my 2^nd gig and there was a nice appreciation of that.

Having completed my time on stage, it was much easier to relax and enjoy the other acts. The Rev Henry King was a great surprise to close the show. Great character comedy. All in all, a great little gig.

I drove home, possibly slightly faster than my mother would approve of, made a cup of tea and watched my set back. Live the dream, baby.

Thanks to Ryan for recording it for me. Watching it back, it was much better than I’d felt while I was up there. It got me thinking that a video recording is an essential part of the learning process. They say stand-up comedy gives you immediate feedback, but I write a joke, repeat it until I’m bored of it, say it on stage and get an audience reaction, and yet it’s not until I get back home that I know how it really went.

My twenty month old son Conor woke up, probably to have a giggle himself, and my wife found herself with him in one ear and an over excited comedic wannabe regaling tales of the evening in the other. Happy birthday babe.

Out again on Thursday and hope to see some familiar faces among comedians and audience. You never know what you are going to get when you turn up at these nights, and I suppose that’s part of the appeal, but also the tension.

Hope to see some of you there, and hopefully it’s another night where I can avoid the inevitable bombing.

Until then, keep smiling.

James

You know how you wait ages for a bus and then two come along at once?

It would seem gigs are the same. I’m out again on June 2nd and June 5th, having spent the last few weeks tightening my set while trying to secure five minute slots with anyone good enough to give me a crack. Two have been so kind to give me dates in the next couple of weeks, the first a sunny Monday night in Newport Pagnell, MK. If anyone isn’t too far away, drop me a line for details. I am close to nailing dates in July and August and then in September, there is a very interesting event I’m performing in.

Some promoter’s book very close to the event, even on the day, while some have the list of acts confirmed months before the gig. Some promoters prefer the phone, some email, some social media, some want to see you face-to-face. Most want a video, not sure what I’d do if I’d completely bombed on my debut. All promoters are bombarded with comedic wannabes desperate to hone and tone their acts on the promoter’s stage, it’s a competitive but friendly field. It takes a while to get used to the intricacies of the circuit, but I’m learning all the time.

I am going to try to limit any more changes to the set. I have cut two and a half minutes, to ensure I can fit into the allotted time. I have added some jokes too – hopefully not two and half minute’s worth. There is an elephant theme in my set but I didn’t like the introductory joke. Just felt a bit stale. So I rewrote it and had to look up a couple of facts to support the gag. I have to share fact #1 with you… An elephant’s genitalia can grow to 39 inches!  It makes you understand why Nellie was always saying goodbye to the circus.

Hope to see you at gig soon and have a great bank holiday weekend.

James

It was easy booking the gig. Once I was given the nod to pop my comedic cherry at the Comedy Bar in Luton, there was nothing to worry about. I had a couple of months, as my four year old would say, “its easy peasy”.

I wrote down some ideas and quickly had 30 minutes of material, not 30 minutes of good material, just 30 minutes of material. The verbose monologue was then whittled down to 10 minutes, which on closer inspection turned out to be an eighteen-minute type of ten minutes.

I began learning nine minutes of it before being struck down by the worst of ailments which restricted my attendance at my day job, for more details you’ll have to come to a gig. Keen to use the time productively, I sat down in front of a back-to-back marathon of comedy legends.

My stomach span inwards when one of them, Peter Kay, basically read out 4 minutes or so of what was left of my script! Had I seen him do it before? I don’t remember but it is possible. Either way, that discovery decimated my script and left me thinking that anything I could write will have been written already. What could I do? Well I sought solace in the ailment which had struck me down, and wrote four minutes (ok, twenty), on that.

Before I could even smell my own sweat on a stage, I’d hit a low and high that told me I could do alright with this. While disappointed that I’d lost what I’d considered a strong part of my fledgling act, I’d rolled with the punch and written a replacement section before my [see the gig for details of ailment] had even calmed.

A week or two of learning the script and its order, and I was ready to test it out. The content seemed fairly solid, and I found myself adding and tightening gags at will, adding one in, taking two out, amending the one I’d put it until it looked much like one of those I’d taken out.

Then I whipped out the video recorder and ran through the set under the lens. Damn, I wasn’t funny. I couldn’t shake the robotic delivery of the material which had stemmed from reading it over and over while sat in a chair. I had to architect a delivery style which offered some animation to the act. It was my first time, but it’s a comedy act, not Jackanory.

As my stage debut approached, I spent time on my act every day, and did one performance a day to my wife, the subject of many the gags. Not in a good way. I’d managed to clear most of the drivel out but she helped with the remaining clumps. A tweak here, and point there. All vital amendments.

The day arrived and the nerves began to grow. I couldn’t believe it was finally here and despite all my desires for the night, I’m now just thinking about remembering the words. I’d seen one meltdown on this stage while in the audience two months ago and red really isn’t my colour, nor is brown. Back over the script, over and again, making sure it had all sunk in.

Arrived at the venue and felt weird signing in with “hi yeh James Howard, I’m performing tonight”. It didn’t sound like I’d managed to get the words out but he looked along the list of acts, some names I recognised, and highlighted mine. It was really happening.

Acts on the night: Jonathon Prince, James Howard, Winter Foenander, Jay Islaam , Fran Byrne, Ryan Jones, Masai Graham, Wizzy Janew, Tim Blackwell and Olaf Falafel.

I went back stage (I know), and was led to the dressing room (I know). The other comedians were filtering in and the conversation was fluid as acts came and left the room. I advised of my stage virginity and was met with open eye-balls. A couple told me how long they’d studied comedy and I felt a bit of a bell end with my “yeh, well I read a book, so….”. One said he’s first show took a year to write which really got me thinking mine might be on the flimsy side. There was a lot of support from very talented people who I’d only just met, little bits of advice and tips they’d picked up over hundreds of gigs.

Jonathan Price opened, and as expected got the crowd into a lively mood with a belting performance. Sean Patrick, the MC for evening told me he wasn’t going to hang around between acts and that he’d bring me straight on. I stood by the curtain, staring at the darkness that shielded the other side, and hoped that the audience would save a few of those giggles for me. Jonathan came off stage, Sean was on and before I knew it was welcoming James Howard to the stage.

It went well. I’d heard so many stories about nightmare first gigs but I was glad to escape unbruised and ego delicately massaged. A drunken heckler served only to tee me up for what was possibly my biggest laugh of the evening, another experience chalked off. I got more laughs than I’d expected, and louder too. Thing with observational comedy, it feels even better than just laughter when then audience laugh and nod with recognition of the common but largely unspoken subject matter your covering on stage. My nightmare gigs will come, no doubt, but my first was a wonderful experience.

I came off stage and it was a big of a blur. Handshakes before settling down to watch the rest of the evening’s comedy. Some of the audience stopped to talk about my set in very positive terms, and even buy me drinks. If nothing else, I can develop an alcohol dependency out of this game.

The gig was recorded by my ever-dependable wife and after watching it a couple of times to gage the audience reaction, I got to work on cutting it (it ran on for seven and a half minutes rather than five), refining it (losing the gags that didn’t work), and developing those gags that did hit the spot.

I’d not wanted to book anything else in fear of dying on my arse but having negotiated the first, the second and third are confirmed in the diary and details will be on the way soon. A drink is on me for the one who laughs loudest!

Stand up comedy debut – James Howard

I’m James Howard and I made my Stand Up Comedy Debut in 2014.

Welcome to the blog for news on my latest gigs and comments on whatever I’m thinking when I post.