Rob Gilroy: Making A Stand #38
This week I’ve decided to take a break from blowing my own trumpet, and instead I will be blowing the trumpet of someone else.
I know the dirty minded of you will view that as some sort of smutty innuendo designed to sound like I’m performing seedy sexual acts, but I’m not; I’m simply fluffing this person up.
The person in question is a stand-up comedian (obviously, it’s a comedy website for God’s sake) and his name is Stuart Goldsmith.
Some of you will know him for his countless gigs on the comedy circuit, others will know him as the one who wasn’t Pat Monahan on ITV’s Show Me the Funny, but for a lot of comedians, and a whole host of comedy fanatics, he is the purveyor of the simply wonderful Comedian’s Comedian podcast.
I have been listening to The Comedian’s Comedian more frequently on my drive to gigs. Sandwiched between Chris Rea and Depeche Mode on my playlist, it is my number one ‘tune’ whilst driving, balancing a Lavazza coffee with my knees and chomping into a peppered steak slice.
I realise plugging Stuart’s brilliantly incisive podcast to a website whose primary audience will already be comedians is a lot like preaching to the choir – you don’t need convincing and I’m showing my arse to the congregation – however I think it’s worthy of a mention for anyone else who may have missed it or deemed it not for them.
It’s only relatively recently that I’ve become a bit of a podcast nutter or ‘podnut’ and even now I don’t listen to that many – except the wonderful array of Giggle Beats podcasts, obviously, which I can hand-on-my-heart say are game changing. Honestly.
Some of you won’t have heard the Comedian’s Comedian and for that my heart goes out to you. That was me 6 months ago. No ComComPod in my life and all the more miserable for it.
I was alone, depressed and I weighed eighteen stone. The Comedian’s Comedian Podcast changed my life. OK, I’m still alone and this fat isn’t shifting itself but I’m infinitely a bit less depressed about this whole comedy lark.
I have a lot of strong views about comedy, more so than on any other subject – if you’re looking for someone to provide biting political commentary, find someone else.
If you’re looking for someone to talk passionately about why ‘poo’ is definitely a funny word then I, like Shane Ritchie, am your man. Yet, despite my strong opinions I can be easily swayed when listening to people I admire talking definitively about comedy.
Comedy is an incredibly personal thing and particularly when you start writing and performing comedy. You quickly realise that there really is no set formula to follow.
A lot of the time you find yourself floundering in search for what is funny (I now know it is the word ‘poo’, as previously stated).
In order to try gain an understanding of such a subjective art form you try form concrete ideas about how to approach it. This can be both liberating and incredibly constricting.
In some ways having these set views can really help to inform and strengthen your comedic ‘voice’. If you are certain of what you like and how you approach writing then it helps crystallise your approach, however on the flip side, if you are unable to see another way of doing things you can shut yourself off from other inspirations and approaches.
Having a wider appreciation of comedy, in my view, can really help you to understand how to make people laugh more affectively. The more comedic elements you have, the better your arsenal is when trying to impress the punters at the Chuckle Shack, Nottingham.
The problem I find, and it may just be me, is that I can be swayed from these preconceived notions by people I admire.
Often comedians are prone to clarifying their views in black and white, particularly when it comes to their approach to creating comedy.
While this is always interesting to people like me who are trying to emulate their successes, it can also be incredibly disheartening if you find that your comedy hero has opposing views.
Obviously there is nothing wrong with this, comedy at its core is subjective, but for someone still finding their feet and seeking inspiration from their predecessors it can sometimes send you into mild crises of identity and comedic validity.
It’s always good to have your preconceptions challenged but if this impacts on your ability to generate material it can be quietly terrifying.
I realise this seems to completely negate my championing of Stuart Goldsmith and his honest approach to interviewing – think Michael Parkinson crippled with self-doubt, but charming with it – but actually this is the reason I love the Comedian’s Comedian podcast. At no point does it take this black and white stance.
Yes, the comedians interviewed may be quite certain in their approaches and views, but if the collection of episodes as a whole teaches you anything; it’s that the creation of comedy is as varied as the enjoyment of it.
For an act like me, wobbling tentatively on the line between someone with an unhealthy hobby and a that of a proper comedian, it’s incredibly reassuring to hear that other comedians – all comedians – have had the same doubts and worries, fears and crises and nights staring into the bathroom mirror of the Ibis Budget, Bromley.
It’s truly an illustrious line up of top circuit and TV comics and each one is insightful and entertaining, even when you don’t necessarily have the privilege of knowing their act.
Every comic has something valuable to say and something that can help inform your approach to comedy, be it in writing, performing or even in the admin-heavy part of the job.
The most interesting comic of all is Mr. Goldsmith who handles the show with a self-deprecating and enthusiastic line of enquiry as well as being honest and upfront about his struggles. We are not alone.
If you are a comic; give it a listen, if you are just interested in comedy; give it a listen – heck; if you’ve never given comedy a second thought; give it a listen. But listen to the Giggle Beats ones first, obviously. They’re proper brilliant.
Rob can be seen next at The Stand Comedy Club in Newcastle tonight, on Saturday 11 January.
