As we wait for the show to start, there are two unexpected arrivals on the stage. A toddler wearing a red romper suit appears, joined by Daniel. The seventeen-month-old girl toddles across to the middle of the stage, looking at the backdrop and lights, then turns around to face the audience. We wave at her. She waves back, cue laughter and aaawing from the crowd. She wanders away again. Daniel calls to her and demonstrates an extravagant bow. She crouches like she's filling her nappy, not quite understanding the instruction. Then, unbidded, she toddles back to the middle of the stage and waves again before leaving on her own volition. (Later, Daniel thanks us for getting his daughter addicted to the stage.)
 |
He caught her before she floated off,
still high from being on stage. |
The last time Daniel played here was in October 2022. Kai Humphries was his support then, too. Daniel's four-year-old son introduces him, shouting out his first name into the backstage mic.
Kai is a forty-two-year-old, working-class Geordie comedian, living in Glasgow with his beautiful, mixed-race wife. They have no kids, but not for want of trying. He tries to prank us at the start by saying he'd placed a prize under one of our seats, suggesting we should all have a feel around, miming the action, then admits the prize is a piece of used gum, laughing at those who fell for it, reminding us the seats were upright when we arrived. He jokes that he does this at every gig, and one time, a woman fell for it. And she was in a wheelchair.
Kai's proud of his working-class roots. He talks about the differences in class, overhearing a schoolboy in a posh uniform reveal that his favourite colour is Teal. Kai had to look up what that was: a mix of green and blue, which he thinks, in Glasgow, should be outlawed. You canny have both.
Kai's worried that, now that he's getting older, his life is changing. If he falls over, his mates no longer laugh. They check he's okay. It's not that he's fallen, it's now that he's had a fall.
He's an engaging comedian and worthy of the support slot. As he takes great pains to remind us, he's playing The Stand on Saturday, June 13th (3pm), performing different material, so he urges us all to come along. Well, not all of us. We can't all fit in.
The link is on his socials and here.
Daniel took a year off after the birth of his daughter. He had been away working during the formative early years after his son's birth, so he wanted to be present this time. He loved and hated the experience. It was great to be there for all the firsts, but not working made him feel guilty. After eight months, his wife informed him it was time. He should return to stand up. It wasn't healthy for him to be performing new bits in front of his kids, especially unfiltered material.
He dearly loves his wife. She's beautiful and wise, despite being from Aberdeen (she's a rescue), and he is in awe of the miracle of her body, which has borne him two children. The fact that her breasts can produce different milk in the morning and evening, detect infections in the baby's saliva, and then provide the kid with the necessary antibodies to protect itself, amazes him. If only male bodies could do the same. He then went into a routine about this, involving female saliva and blowjobs.
The fact that she is the younger sister of an ex-girlfriend raised some laughs. How awkward it would have been to meet her parents, not for the first time.
Daniel is a consummate professional. He takes his job seriously, if not himself. He admits he says things that are the opposite of what he means, because it is funny.
I found an example on Facebook. This is a birthday greeting for his wife:
I love you, have an awful day, you fat cunt.
Out of context, that would be a horrible thing to say. He qualifies the comment by prefacing it with this:
Happy Birthday to my little rat pig wife, Kara. A woman who hates sincere compliments and most forms of
PDAs. Resulting in the only way to make her truly happy is by saying very mean, cruel and untrue things to her stupid, gremlin face while hoping nobody overhears and assumes I'm an emotionally abusive husband.
You can see why he is in therapy.
He uses the latter half of the show to explain his feelings about the Channel 4 Russell Brand documentary he contributed to. He acknowledges that, as a Scottish comedian, he is a Z-list celebrity at best, and that he did the bare minimum when he agreed to comment on the rumours he'd heard about Russell's behaviour on the scene, rumours dating back nearly twenty years.
All the important women in his life - his wife, his agent/manager, and the woman with whom he'd co-written the show X (about her rape by a joint friend) - told him beforehand that he shouldn't do the documentary. But he didn't listen to them, because they were women. The fallout and fame that arose from his contribution, as the only comedian prepared to speak out about Russell, left him in a dark place, drowning in weed and whiskey. Kara told him to stay off social media and ignore the calls, but he didn't listen. If only she had had the foresight to ask her dad to tell him not to do it, then he would have listened, because then it would have come from a Man.
He finishes the set with a routine about what, as parents, they decided to call their baby daughter's vagina. They settled on Daniel's choice of "Pinkie". Not the little finger, but because it was kind of that colour. At least, that's what he said was the reason. They use the title every day until its use becomes commonplace. It's only when his mother-in-law overhears the term that further investigation into the name's origin is sought.
I didn't know 'Rat' was another name for vagina. Nor did I know the specific nickname for a rat baby, but as a show-ending punchline, it was brilliant. Awkward, awful and incredibly funny, which just about sums up Daniel's comedy.
Ticket Price: £45 x 2 plus booking fee £7.25 per ticket and venue fee £2.50 per ticket = £109.50 from See Tickets.
