The Thursday Show, The Stand, Glasgow Thursday 6th August, 2026

I didn't fancy a night with Marti Pellow at the Kelvingrove Bandstand, despite being my wife and mother-in-law's chauffeur to and from the event. To kill time, rather than go home and return later, I thought I'd pay The Stand a visit, even though I didn't know who was on the bill (they don't publicise the Thursday lineup, referring to it as 'subject to change'). The comedy night would be far cheaper than a ticket to Marti (£75 after fees) or even a trip to the cinema.  Normal Thursday night price is £11 inc booking fee, but as I'm a member I get in for £6.

Then I get an email from The Stand informing me the show would now finish at 10:10 pm, not 9:30 pm, as advertised, because they'd added a special guest to the bill. They'd happily refund me if this time change was not suitable. The later time actually suited me better as Marti wouldn't finish till 10:30 pm. I didn't see the social media post about the "Incredible secret special guest" until after the show.

After dropping off the pair on Sauchiehall Street, I drove over to Great Western Road, found a free space on a side street and headed to the venue. There was no indication on the board outside who was performing.

As I walk into the bar, the staff announce the doors are open, but it turns out to be a reminder as the room is already half full. The curtain is pulled over behind the back bench, so I'm not expecting a capacity crowd. I sit near the door at the back.

I buy an Irn Bru, see the socials board next to the bar and work out tonight's comedians are: Liam Farrelly, Chris Thorburn, Sinead Walsh and Ray Bradshaw. I spend the rest of my time people-watching, reading from my Kindle app, and scrolling through social media waiting for the show to start. Another lone attendee sits beside me. The room fills up so much that the staff open up the rear of the room.

Liam Farrelly is our MC for the evening. The Paisley comic does a great job getting to know the crowd, while integrating his material into the chat. His thick accent can mostly be understood by the international visitors. Dave is from Australia, though he sounds Scottish because he emigrated there thirty years ago. He was a chef in the merchant navy and is back to see his granddaughter, who is also present. She is studying commerce at Glasgow Uni, but hopes to study Business Law next. 

A Lidl carrier bag sits on the stage platform. Liam tells the women who left it there to remove it, but not before he has a look inside. It contains a birthday cake and a knife, which is the best way to carry a weapon in Glasgow. It turns out the middle lady is 55 today. She is currently unemployed but has just produced a short film and is about to start work on the Batman film next week. She'll be on crowd control, she explains, a glorified security guard. Liam's still impressed. 

So is Chris Thornburn, our first act. He studied film, and he engages with the birthday girl, using the conversation to transition into his movie material. He's also testing some new material, and it shows a little; his flow is slightly off, but still a solid performance with lots of laughs.

I don't find Sinead Walsh as funny. I've not encountered her before, an Irish lesbian who might pass for a boy, if it weren't for her boobs. Her set plays with examples of this ambiguous gender, such as at the airport, where the male and female security personnel can't decide which of them should frisk her. The routine about being told by her mother that she should be more like her brother pays off as you'd expect (she too drinks and shags women). I'm not sure if I'm witnessing an inexperienced comic or a nervous one, as she doesn't always commit to the material. Or it could be I'm not her demographic.

After the first interval, Liam discovers the man in the front row, Roddie, is also fifty-five today. He's a PE teacher at Paisley Grammar and is here with his daughter, who works in the Coop.

After a bit of chat, Liam then advises us to keep our phones in our pockets and be in the room for the next act, superstar comedian Kevin Bridges. The room erupts with cheers and clapping.

 

Kevin is working up some material for his next tour and brings his notes with him. This is his debut at the new venue, and it takes him a while to settle, not entirely happy with the volume of his microphone, still feeling his way around the space. When he hits his stride, though, he is phenomenal. He does thirty-five minutes before the second interval. The crowd loved him, especially getting to see him for such a low ticket price.    

Headliner Ray Bradshaw jokes that Kevin was only supposed to do ten minutes, so we got good value. I didn't think this was true, given they'd extended the show time by forty minutes, but it got a laugh. He explained that when the Stand phoned to inform him they'd pushed back his slot to accommodate a special guest, they didn't tell him who it was. He reckoned it would either be Kevin or possibly Frankie Boyle. When he arrived at the venue and saw the Porsche outside, he knew it wasn't Frankie.  

Liam had earlier identified a Texan brother and sister in the front row, with the girl working in an outdoor nursery in Maryhill. Ray knew of this place, as one of his footballing buddies sent his son there. There was an issue, though: the boy was being bullied by another lad who kept biting him. The nursery teacher laughed and said she knew who that was. Small world.

Ray's set is a mishmash of old and new material, all of it effortlessly funny. He is always good value. The story of his deaf dad and uncle working out which house in Sandhead his deaf aunt lived in was especially funny as we'd stayed in that village earlier this year and I could picture the scene exactly. 

At the very end, Liam invited a young girl in a wheelchair onto the stage. She had a question to ask a special someone in her life. Her partner, also skinny, young and pierced, was invited to join her, whereupon the wheelchair girl got down on both knees and produced a ring. We couldn't hear the response as neither remembered to use the microphone. The pair got emotional and hugged each other. It took an intervention from Liam, taking back the mic, to let us know she'd said Yes. They were awarded the pair of tickets to another show, rather than it being drawn randomly from a hat.

I returned to collect my wife and mother-in-law, extremely pleased with my night. They had had a good time too. 

It's amazing to think that what had been intended as just something to do turned into such a special evening. And all for six quid. Good on The Stand. Get out there, folks. You never know how good it will be.

Ticket Price: £5 (member price) & £1 Booking Fee = £6 from The Stand website.

Nina Conti & Friends, Paisley Town Hall. Saturday 22nd November, 2025

I think my expectations for this event were too high. The Town Hall in Paisley is a grand venue with a high ceiling and plush seating, so you expect events to be of a higher standard. While I enjoyed each act in its own way, I didn't feel any of them elevated the proceedings to match their surroundings.

Compère John Gavin worked the room like a pub crowd, cussing and effing from the off. Liam Farrelly opened his act by describing the various uses of the word 'cunt' in social settings. It all felt a bit seedy. Fortunately, Liam won me back with a well-crafted set, even if I'd heard it before when he opened for Russell Kane. Daniel Petrie let slip he'd only been 'friends' with Nina Conti for a short time, given he got the call to play only a few days earlier when the original booked act called off (he didn't reveal who it was). Daniel's act started off low-energy and didn't change, though his material improved after he revealed his main job was as a doctor, hitting us with deadpan jokes about how superior he was, backed up with examples. He closed the first half of the night.

After the break, John Gavin returned and did his short set before introducing Nina. Her act was half chatting with Monkey and half using her masks on audience members. The Monkey stuff went down better, though I'd heard some of the banter before. I was more fascinated than amused by the mask stuff, studying what was happening rather than laughing at it. She closed with her bit about Monkey inhabiting her mind, which she correctly stated was freaky as hell.

It's great that OneRen are bringing the comedians out to the provinces, but you'll find better value and more laughs at a Saturday show at the Glee Club or The Stand. This show felt a bit half-arsed.

Ticket Price: 2 x £27.50 plus £2.50 booking fee = £57.50 from OneRen

CANCELLED Tom Davis & Friends, Paisley Town Hall. Friday 19th September, 2025

This was the email I received informing me that the event had been cancelled:

Due to unforeseen circumstances, this event on Friday, 19th September 2025, at Paisley Town Hall has been cancelled.

It’s hoped that the show can be rescheduled at some time in the future. We will be in touch to let you know if that happens. We apologise for any disappointment.

Ticket Price: 2 x  £25 plus £5 fees = £55 from One Ren. 

FULLY REFUNDED inc Fees.

Russell Kane "Hyperactive", King's Theatre, Glasgow. Sunday 30th March 2025

I have never seen Russell Kane live before (or any of the comedy Russells, for that matter), but I knew he was good. I didn't realise just how good. 

His support act was a pleasant surprise: local boy Liam Farrelly (local as in Paisley). This twenty-five-year-old crafted a clever set about gerbils, accents, spider swastikas and graffiti on his house about a slut called Jenny. I've never seen a relatively unknown support comedian command the stage and win over the audience so quickly. His material was brilliant. 

Russell was on another level, however. So much of the early set appeared improvised, chucking in local references knowingly and appropriately, building the laughs as he strutted from side to side, weaving in audience work to make his points, his mind operating as fast as he was moving, notably only slowing down when he crouched or lay on the stage. His regional accent work was impeccable, his physicality impressive, and his material was thoughtful and astute (under 28s don't go to comedy gigs because they get too easily triggered; mobile phones are killing memory and attention spans and shoving bad messaging down our throats; we should live for the moment, not tomorrow, because we only have today). He spoke with passion and humour, and not a single gag missed. He was like an Essex Robin Williams, only less dead. He shared the same pace, wit, and messaging as that genius comedian. 

He gave us seventy minutes because he knew that was all we could take. We gave him a well-deserved standing ovation. Thank you, Russell Kane, best of the Russells.

The journey home afterwards was an experience, too. Walking down Hope Street, heading for Central Station, I saw an inebriated blonde woman dressed all in green battering at a hackney cab's driver's window, demanding to be given a lift. In her hand, she clutched a shopping bag, so it too struck the driver's window. Her language was barely intelligible, so I couldn't tell where she wanted to go. Waiting at the junction only because the traffic lights were at red, the male driver didn't let her in, fobbing her off with some excuse I couldn't lipread. A police van pulled up behind him. The lights changed to green. The cab moved off, but she refused to accept this. She clung to his door, lasting five yards before her bag went flying, and she tumbled across the road, doing more spins than an Olympic diver. The cab continued on its way, and, eventually, the policeman got out of his van, the woman still on the ground, now an obstacle to traffic. He spoke to her, then messaged someone on his radio, likely for an ambulance. So, ultimately, she would get a lift, just not home. Either she was going to hospital or to a police cell. I didn't wait to see the outcome. I had a train to catch, where three drunk multi-generational women serenaded the entire carriage in whatever key they could achieve, regardless of whether they knew the lyrics or not. But that's another story.     

Ticket Price: 1 Artist Presale Ticket £31.75
Per Item Fees: (Service Charge Artist Presale Ticket) £3.50
Order Processing Fees Handling Fee £2.95
Total £38.20 from Ticketmaster