Rob Gilroy: Making A Stand #34

I did a gig last night. I know what you’re thinking – ‘Who do you think you are; Jon Bon Jovi?’ Well, in a way – yes.

I’m not saying I performed in a blaze of glory, but I did accidentally blast a stream of water over myself while trying to wash my hands in the gents, so I can confirm I am, indeed, slippery when wet.  

For those that don’t know; I use a guitar in my set. It’s kind of essential because I perform as a protest singer character. I did think about doing the same thing with an accordion but it sent out conflicting messages.

I like playing the guitar, I wouldn’t quite say it’s rock ‘n’ roll as I still have to use my ‘Play Guitar with Enrique Iglesias’ book for chord diagrams, but it fills an urge in me. Namely the urge to be this generation’s Darius Danesh.

I’m not that good at guitar, to be honest with you. A lot of people would take that setback on board and try avoiding it at any cost, whereas I place it at the forefront of my act.

Am I a sado-masochist attempting to punish myself for not learning the guitar better? No. I did try that for a short time but, if anything, the nipple clamps made it harder to concentrate. The reason I play guitar in my act is simple: I really, really like comedy songs.

Musical comedy seems to be one of those topics that divides opinion; like the Israel/Palestine conflict and Keeping Up Appearances.

Some people love musical comedy and some want to fling shit at you the second you tie the cymbals to your knees. Whenever I’m socialising, if I tell people I do comedy songs – only if they’ve asked; I’m not a big head – a lot of people tend to look downhearted, then the skulk off and join another nearby conversation or hide behind the piñata. I don’t know why that is; because there are great examples of musical comedy all around.

The gig I did the other night was one specifically aimed at musical comedy. It was a lovely gig and people seemed to really enjoy it. I think a big part of that was the music. In a very real sense; without the music most of the acts would have had material punctuated with gaps where they recited lyrics, coldly.

I suppose we could have passed it off as poetry but then you run the risk of just looking silly when you do the dance moves. Like a meeting of seizures anonymous. But the musical comedy on offer was brilliant; I urge you to check out a band by the name of Peter Marshall and the Lomos. Utterly mad.

I love musical comedy, whatever form it takes. Whether it’s stadium-filling anthems, the likes of which Bill Bailey does so well, delicate snippets of sheer stupidity peddled by the woefully overlooked Boothby Graffoe, or even daft ditties the likes of which Monty Python did to staggering affect.

The people that tend to dislike musical comedy will, in the next breath, tell you how brilliant Flight of the Conchords is, or how Tim Minchin is their favourite comedian. There are so many good musical comedy acts, that it’s hard not to love it in some form or other.

Some people, and I know I include other comedians in this, think comedy songs are a ‘cheat’. Lazy, not as good as proper crafted jokes, and a quick way of getting audiences onside. And to those people I say; “Oh, do fuck off.”

Trust me; if writing comedy songs and getting them to work was that easy; I’d be a damn sight better than I am. Granted, that may just reflect how bad I am at this whole thing, but I think the point still stands.

Writing comedy songs is really hard. Not only does it involve crafting strong, solid jokes, but they have to be jokes that work when fitted to a melody, each line has to stand out and not only that but it has to be reasonably nice to listen too.

That’s why Steve Reich never wrote the Lumberjack Song; if he had it would just have been snippets of Mounties discussing transgender issues, repeated and exaggerated for effect. Hardly laugh a minute.

Another reason I love musical comedy is that it can sometimes elevate the point you’re making. Whether it’s a silly little aside, or a funny image, or a more important point about something – putting it to music can not only make it more palatable but also have a much stronger lasting impression on the audience.

Comedy is nothing if it’s not entertaining. And any way you can make your comedy richer and more enjoyable for an audience should always be at the forefront of your mind.

Not everyone suits musical comedy, and that’s probably a good thing as every comedy gig would seem like a rejected set of X Factor auditions, but I champion musical comedy, in all its forms. Whether it’s a song about pigeons, eskimos or penises – they’re all valid.

At the very least; it keeps Bon Jovi in business.

Rob can be seen next at the My Newt Comedy night at The Castle Inn, Skipton on Monday 9 December.