On Friday 15th, I shall perform a brief set as part of a cabaret called <b>"Candy is Dandy but Liquor is Quicker"</b>. Not sure exactly what I'll do, but it'll involve an acoustic guitar. The venue is a Victorian Neo-Gothic church, and I'm told acoustic guitars sound particularly wonderful there.
Venue: 291 Gallery, 291 Hackney Road, London E2 8NA. More details at http://www.291gallery.com
When: Friday, October 15, 2004. 10pm-early hours. I'm on at 10.30pm.
From the website:
"This month, 291’s late night cabaret is joined for a one-off spectacular event by Bishi (Kashpoint, The Siren Suite).
To celebrate the imminent release of her album she has selected some of her favourite friends and performers to entertain you for one night only. Other artists include Bishi, The $hit, Simon Bookish, Anat Ben David (Peaches, Chicks on speed), Rosie Cooper, Marlene, Dickon Edwards; Film: Norioko Okaku, Susanne Oberbeck; DJ’s: Sebastian (Silence is sexy, Caligula) and Jo Apps. Entry: £5."
"DISCLAIMER: Apparently some people don’t like nudity, ideas and a polysexual selection box of fun wrapped up in a beautiful church with a ribbon of love. So if you are of a delicate constitution, you’re probably better off with your jumbo crossword book. "
My own disclaimer to their disclaimer: it definitely won't be me supplying the nudity.
After my set, I'll be dashing off to the grand re-opening of Mr Price's club <a href="http://www.staybeautifulclub.co.uk" target="_blank">Stay Beautiful</a>. A difficult decision, as I'd love to stay and catch some of the other Hackney performers, but I've been in such a Stay Beautiful-ready mood ever since I heard it was returning to Camden. Must be nostalgia for its first venue in Inverness Street. Or possibly for the Camden clubs I frequented in the mid 90s.
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Last Saturday I managed to cram three clubs into one evening. The excellent comedian Mr Stewart Lee performed his latest set at Monkey Business in Camden, and I dragged Mr Chipping with me. A packed room above a bar, standing room only. I don't go to many comedy gigs, and the comic on before him reminded me exactly why. Never mind Default Men, this was Default Male Stand-Up. His routine was entirely composed of cliched blokish observational comedy targets: a typical example being legalise-cannabis campaigners getting (yes, you guessed it), the "munchies". If no one's laughing, insert swear words and they might laugh at those instead. Ye gods. He appeared to be one of those men who think they're funny just because their girlfriend, pub mates or workmates humour them.
What is it about men thinking they're automatically funny? That's the opening line from my own proposed routine. I've already got the suits.
Thing is, he actually went down rather well. Tourist-heavy audiences like this one prefer their comedy re-heated, blokish, characterless and predictable. When Mr Lee took to the stage and made observational quips on his own act <i>as it was happening</i>, then came out with lines like "all football-watchers are evil and scum", "Gary Lineker is sexually aroused by children becoming fat and dying – I do believe it", along with equally unkind sniping at comedic sacred cows Eddie Izzard and Graham Norton; the response was mostly sparse, nervous laughter, compared to the majority approval afforded to the first comedian. His style is intelligent, sly and uncompromisingly unique. Rarely does he care about pandering to the archetypal pub room crowd – the Default Audience trying to bond with itself over easy, fake-common-ground humour, or even Ageing Student Deadpan humour beloved of Internet users (another bugbear of mine – I really should get this anti-comedy comedy routine onstage). Thing is, he actually does do toilet humour. It's just a drawn-out, lateral and deliciously deconstructed take on toilet humour.
Mr Lee is far too smart to be doing stand-up gigs. This is exactly why he should keep doing them. And why I strongly urge you, Dear Reader, to catch him at <a href="http://www.sohotheatre.com/comedy/" target="_blank">his Soho Theatre run next month</a>.
After this, I attended Crimes Against Pop in Highbury Corner for about half an hour, then onto the The Fanclub in Kentish Town. Danced to deathless pop at the former, found myself being whipped with a bar mat at the latter. The mat-brandishing perpetrator was a bald man in a suit and make-up (yes, Dear Reader, even I can concede it's possible to dress well and act stupidly). He turned out to be a member of one of the Fanclub bands. I confronted him about it in his dressing room, fuelled by a fraction of the Dutch courage he had.
Me: Excuse me. Stop walking away. Why did you whip me with a beer-soaked bar mat while I was innocently dancing to Hazel Dean? I don't even know you.
Him: Oh, just trying to attract attention…
Another idiot, a visibly drunk blonde girl, approached me within minutes.
Her: Aren't you in a band? Isn't your name Duncan or something? Dominic?
Me: (snapping) Buy me a drink.
Her: Sorry? Are you serious?
Me: Yes I am. You've approached me because you're drunk and I look like A Drunk's Fair Game. I've just been whipped with a beer-soaked bar mat by a complete stranger for much the same reason. If I must deal with drunken idiots, which is admittedly an occupational hazard for me, I'd like to be at least as drunk as they are.
She didn't oblige. But she did leave me alone.
I'm not usually this angry with people and feel terribly guilty as I type the above. It must have been the bar mat talking.
