Drayton: Laughting
I’d forgotten how nice it is to be working with a couple of mates and a room full of people*. I hadn’t forgotten my first night nerves every one night stand, they’re always there.
I’d forgotten how a great compere can take a room full of chatter and booze, very slowly and carefully bring them on board. A million miles from the witless ‘what do you do, where are you from?’ routine. Weaving in material, bouncing round improvised lines, dropping back, getting the rhythm, keeping them hooked.
I’d sidelined my love of comedy for playing records, developing something more gentle, but stepping out again on Tuesday night was a marvel. I’m not saying I was a marvel, though I did ok for an old timer. The whole event reminded me of how it can be when it’s good, when there’s a bit of a fishing needed to get them laughing. It also provided a couple of those ‘of the moment’ laughs, the off the cuff interaction that will only happen in the then and now. I have never described a frilly shirt with so much bad language, I can’t begin to think where it came from.
I’d forgotten how it feels to be in the middle of the storm, knowing how the next five minutes are going to get them, how you can almost step outside the gig, see who’s picking lint from their jacket, reaching for their mobile – and get them back on board by simply cajoling (ok, bullying) them back into focus. They might think you’re rubbish, but at least through brute force you’ve got their attention.
What was so completely brilliant was catching Gavin Webster and John Scott effortlessly take the audience on a trip round their imaginations. Using every power at their disposal, voiding hecklers, rolling out routines with well honed precision, the entertainment equivalent of white water rafting, or as I now call it Laughting.
The best thing about the night though was being reminded just how John Scott and Gavin Webster are so fucking good at their jobs. You should catch up with them as soon as possible.
*During the evening we also managed to fit in chats about the best AC/DC album, the perils of staying at a Travelodge, open spots, driving home the wrong way and how some fans of Jazz can be complete wankers.
