Collings and me were guests on our own 6Music show this morning. Richard Bacon is sitting in for us sitting in for Adam and Joe for the whole of August. We couldn't do it ourselves because Andrew Collings' vanity project "Secret Dancing" starts at 12.30 and I cannot be trusted to do the show without him. I would just swear and break it.
But Bacon is in Edinburgh too (I think I should do the show with him, then we'd be called Bacon and Herring, which would be funny because those are both food stuffs - I have heard that Andrew Collings is thinking of changing his name to Andrew Eggg so that the show could be called Bacon and Eggg, but we'd just end up being Eggg and Herring which would be weird).
Andrew and me walked up to the BBC studios (I have once again resolved not to take cabs this year unless absolutely necessary) and I was surprised to see the streets already bustling at 10am on a Saturday morning (not a time that I am usually conscious in Edinburgh). We stopped for a smoothie and a coffee. Andrew seemed a little preoccupied and worried about his first impending solo show. I didn't tell him that I suspected that people would demand to be compensated for their time afterwards, even though it was a free show. I didn't think he could take the truth at this juncture. He came to see my show and was very complimentary about the queue outside and the projector screen, which would seem to indicate that he didn't think too much of the show itself. But he's probably turned into a new Stewart Lee, thinking only his kind of comedy is valid and so was disappointed that I didn't just stand on stage, not saying anything or moving, trying to dance without being seen. It is a sad day if Collings has managed to leapfrog me in terms of artistic daring.
The Bacon and Herring and Eggg show was short and sweet. We were in the tiniest studio in Scotland (one that I have previously been in for phone interviews, but which I was astonished to see was being used for a whole show). Bacon was staring me right in the face, with his come to bed eyes and I could just have leant forwards and kissed him. But Collings, the egggy gooseberry, was between us and would have jealously stopped our union, fearful that Bacon and Herring would become a reality and Bacon and Eggg would never come to pass.
I gave Bacon some advice on how to get high by smoking banana skins, though he has been in trouble for such shenanigans before, even though you would think that butter wouldn't melt in his beautiful mouth as he claimed to have never heard of such an idea.
Afterwards I headed back home and paid in yesterday's SCOPE money (£219.37, 2 euros and 1 Norwegian krone plus a crumpled fiver from Bacon) and then went home. I had wanted to go to the gym, but was tired and went to bed for a nap. Usually it takes until second week to be this tired. But I felt much better for the rest. And then went to the gym afterwards for a light work out (just a ten minute run and a twenty minute cycle this time). I can't believe I am this knackered already and Christ knows how I'd be feeling if I was out drinking at night (if I was even capable of that), but I am feeling an odd kind of contentment and enjoying being in one place every day with something of a routine.
For the third night in a row this 345 seat room was packed. This has genuinely blown me away. I was worried about making the move up to the bigger room and thought that I might, if I was lucky get up to 250 in, perhaps selling out on the middle weekend, but five of the first six days are going to be heaving (and today was a full price show), with only Sunday looking like there will be empty seats (but my feeling is that as long as I sell more than 185 - the capacity of my last venue - then the move up has been justified, although have sold about 1000 tickets in the first three days goes some way to proving the move was a good one). We worked out that the chandelier tinkling had been the result of the air conditioning and so I took a chance and requested it was turned off. It was hard to tell whether warmth would be more distracting than ethereal sounds, but it made it easier for me, even if a few of my slightly boozed up Saturday night crowd were nodding off a little by the end of the show.
There was a slightly worrying start as a probably inebriated man at the back spent the first minute shouting the word "No!" at random whilst I was speaking. I managed to diffuse the situation straight away, mainly by telling him that the heckles would have to be of a much higher quality if I was going to justify jettisoning my actual script to accommodate them. I suggested that if I had paid £12.50 to see the show I would be a bit pissed off if it consisted of a man shouting "No" for an hour and perhaps the threat of the angry punching he would receive made him quieten down. The atmosphere was electric to start with and all the jokes got massive laughs, but I was aware that even if I could keep up this level of energy the audience would not be able to and sure enough they calmed down somewhat, but seemed to be focused nonetheless even if they weren't laughing as much. I became convinced that I was running massively over again and sped up maybe a little bit too much, but in fact at the end I realised I had taken up a little less than an hour of stage time. It would have been too long if I had not been going so fast, but I felt a bit cross with myself as I'd not done everything as well as I can. I think I might just keep rotating stuff a bit and give some bits a break (the men of Phise was back in today) although maybe I should just snip out some of the less successful lines here and there. I want to be able to ad lib and explore ideas and it's a shame if I am in too much of a rush to do that. There will be time on tour to do the full unexpurgated version and I want to find new areas of comedy and see what occurs to me whilst in Edinburgh. But even I am quite surprised by how much I am managing to pack into the hour. I must be talking a lot faster than I did in 2001. I sensed the audience might have been a bit overwhelmed by the onslaught by the end, but I would rather batter them a bit, than leave them feeling underwhelmed.
I don't think it's too surprising that I am tired out though as the show itself needs a lot of energy. It is a proper performance and feels even moreso in this theatrical space. When I did it in the Pleasance Dome in 2001 it was cabaret seating and I could see the whole crowd and remember vividly often getting them to the point where I could see tears rolling down their faces. I think it's harder to achieve this in a theatre. Somehow people are a bit more reserved, but the Booz thing still does get to some people and conversely I enjoy the rapt silence in the final dream scene, which you could only really get in a theatre.
I don't want to count my bums until they're on seats, but it is incredibly exciting and satisfying to be doing this well without any reviews yet in. It certainly feels like the show is a hit and having been through the Edinburghs of the mid-noughties (which I know some of you experienced with me via this blog) it is immensely satisfying to have achieved even these three sell outs in this largish venue. I went home almost immediately after the show, eschewing a Saturday night out, to just spend some time alone with a cup of chamomile tea. Yet again, contentment was the overriding emotion, which is not something that I would usually associate with the first weekend of Edinburgh. I partly wished I could travel back to 2004 and tell the young Richard Herring that it was going to be worth the graft of the next few years and the half full houses and the mediocre reviews, because it was going to work out OK. But then if he knew that then he probably wouldn't work hard enough and he might just torture me until I recited all the scripts to him so that he didn't have to work at all. And then he wouldn't enjoy it as much.
And then the Richard Herring of 2016 came back to tell me that I should enjoy this whilst I had it, because it's all going to go tits up and this would be the high point of my life. He look haunted and unhappy. "This is the best it will ever be," he said, "You may get more popular and more successful, but you will never be as happy as you are now."
The 2004 me would have been amazed and probably embarrassed that I was in on a Saturday night, drinking tea alone, but he would probably have been sitting in the Pod Deco bar of the Pleasance courtyard drinking beer on his own, desperately hoping some girl would come up and talk to him.
Actually reading back on my 2004 blog I seem pretty content most of the time and it was a bit of an incredible time in its own way that year and, largely thanks to my 50 dates and many of the ladies in question popping by to see the show, I had quite a fun social time that year and was often seen seated, surrounded by women, like a less stinky Rasputin. But there were many unhappy and lonely Edinburgh nights and I am pleased that I am now old enough to enjoy my own company and to take or leave the social aspect of the Fringe. I am here now to do my show and to make it as good as possible, whilst certainly in the 90s Edinburgh was about socialising and trying to meet girls (and failing and crying alone a lot of the time).
Let's just enjoy what we have now, before I turn into that haunted, sullen fool who came back to try and shit me up tonight. I hate you 2016 Richard Herring and I don't care that one day (God willing) you will read this and know what I think of you and that I know how shallow and vacuous you have become.
