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

Jimmy White's Whirlwind Tour, Paisley Town Hall. Friday January 31st, 2025.

 

Snooker at Paisley Town Hall: how's that going to work?

The answer to that question is that they removed all the seats on the ground level to make space for the snooker table, leaving the raked seating and the balcony for the audience. they then used the stage to display a giant screen showing a top-down view of the green baize.

Our compere, David Broadbent, explained the format for the night. First, John Virgo would show us some trick shots and then the two snooker celebrities would play three frames with John commentating. After a short interval, when certain pieces of signed snooker memorabilia could be purchased for £99 each, there would be a charity auction, followed by a Q&A with the three players, the questions to be submitted via a social media link.

The opening trick shot section fell flat because few of the volunteers managed to perform the shots successfully. If you're going to ask people of random ability to hit a cue ball, the tricks need to be foolproof. Even John Virgo failed to do the first trick. Only two of the five tricks worked, one being successful because the pink and black were glued together.

Once the two snooker players came to the table, the real talent showed. Jimmy opened with a winning seventy break and then easily won the second frame. The third required a rerack and was eventually taken by Ken. It was exciting to watch them play, even if it was just a demonstration match. John's commentary was mostly serious and only occasionally irreverent.

I expected John Virgo to provide the comedy, but to my surprise, Ken cracked most of the jokes, such as "The last time I got a 147, it was a bus." The predominantly male audience was rowdy, comments flying about like a Paisley Crowd Facebook post. The players didn't seem to mind, though.

The auction raised over a grand, with six signed cues selling for £160 each and two pieces of memorabilia selling for £180 each. I was barred from bidding because my wife, who is a snooker fan, wouldn't have them in the house.

The Q&A went well. All three shared warm stories about Hurricane Higgins and who they thought was the greatest player ever. They also took time to commemorate Ray Reardon and Terry Griffiths, both of whom passed away last year. They discussed who might win this year's World Championship and suggested it would be better for snooker to keep the competition at The Crucible in Sheffield—not that they had any say in the matter.  

An interesting night, if a little bit different.

Merch £99

Auction prizes

Q&A

Ticket Price: £32.50 GBP (Standard) Price x 2 (total): 65.00 GBP, plus booking fee £2.50, total £67.50 from One Ren  

Running Times:

Venue Doors and Bar open at 6:30pm

The event begins at 7:30pm

Interval (20mins): 8:30pm approx

Performance ends: Approx 9:50pm

Blurb

Join us for An Evening With ‘’The Whirlwind’’ Jimmy White as he takes on his special guest snooker commentator and 1997 world champion Ken Doherty in a thrilling exhibition masterclass between the two, who do you think will win! The evening will be hosted by the voice of snooker John Virgo!

On the night Jimmy & Ken will play a few frames and talk us through their illustrious career both on and off the table with John Virgo being his usual referee and commentator and also giving us an insight into everything from Jimmy’s 6 world championship runner up finishes, to his world seniors championship win!

The audience will then get the chance to put their questions to Jimmy, Ken and John in a live and unfiltered Q&A.

BBC New Comedy Awards 2024, Paisley Town Hall, Thursday 3rd October, 2024

The magic of Television! 

When I first saw this advertised, my heart sank. The start time of 6 p.m. on a Thursday made it impossible to go. Then, I realised that this was happening after I'd retired. Ha, a free comedy night in Paisley—what better way to celebrate not working. 

We arrived early, grabbed a drink at the bar, and sat while the room got loud. Shortly before the hall doors were due to open, we removed ourselves to join the short queue in the corridor beside where two door staff had assembled. So far, so good.

We overheard the man on the door saying the people with special wristbands would get to go in first, but that didn't happen. The doors opened, and the queue filtered in. The room had been filled with round lounge tables, covered with black tablecloths, with a white spherical lamp in the centre. Massive cameras sat at the back, one loaded onto a track, with smaller ones at the sides. We sat at the nearest unreserved table, then were told by a lady in a red jacket that we couldn't sit there. We moved to the opposite side of the hall as more and more people poured in and sat at another unreserved table. Again, she told us to move as this one was reserved for her 'talent'. Talk about feeling unwelcome. A notice would have been nice. Finally, we snagged the last two seats at the table behind that before it filled up. 

I had a camera behind me. The operator noticed the cable under my chair and requested I stand up so he could move it, thus preventing a potential disaster. With one flick of my foot, the show could have been over—or not. 

The lady in the red jacket wasn't happy with the tall, bald man in a hoodie and his wife sitting at the middle front table. They were asked to move, replaced by a shorter young woman in dungarees and her friend. He wasn't amused, moaning to the people around that he wasn't good enough to be on the telly.

A focused crew member breezed over to adjust the chairs at the 'Talent Table' back onto their marks, as indicated by tiny strips of black tape on the floor. When the five people sat here, I didn't recognise any of them. They were a diverse group, all young. The first was a handsome chap with a full head of hair; the second was bearded with a manbag over his shoulder (a props comedian?). The third was tall and heavier with a mop of floppy hair, while the fourth was female with long blonde hair. The fifth was black with tied-up dreadlocks. I mention them all because it turned out none of them were the 'talent'. They were 'seat fillers'. In turn, they had to give up their seat after each competitor had performed.   

The lady in red reappeared with a tube of clear plastic cups and went around swapping out the bright white paper cups that the bar had been supplying with hers. White cups were not appropriate for the telly, it seemed.

Gareth Mutch, a local comedian, appeared on stage. In addition to being the warm-up act, his other role was to fill in until the cameras were ready to roll, so he was often unsure how long he would be on stage. Instead of performing material, he asked people who they were with and how they met, digging for comedy gold but repeatedly coming up empty, which in itself became funny. The tall bald bloke previously at the front ensured he became part of the show by being the first and loudest to answer. It was just as well he got moved from the front. 

Larry Dean was our host for the evening. He did some standup and then informed us that there were five acts competing tonight. He explained we should continue to clap between acts as he introduced them. JD, the scary floor manager, then told him to get off and brought Gareth back on to conduct the important business of training us as an audience. We had to practice loud cheering and applause, quiet applause without cheering, and general laughing. 

Then, the recording began. Larry did a few minutes of comedy and then introduced the judges, Ashley Storrie, Gregor Sharp, and head judge Babatunde Aleshe. He then welcomed the first act, Craig Scott, from Glasgow. He did well as the opener. His scripted, deliberate delivery reminded me of Kevin Bridges.A confident start.

The second act was a Sri Lankan girl called Maddie Fernando (?). She didn't do quite as well, especially when she veered off script. I would say she's a work in progress. She also just happened to tick the BBC's diversity box. 

The third, Jonathan Oldman, performing as an exaggerated, old-school American character act, blew onto the stage with the energy and clumsiness of a young Norman Wisdom. His gags and costume were offbeat. He used all the stage to complement his comedy tics and built a trio of gags into a wonderful punchline. I liked him best.

The fourth, Jojo Madily (not sure of the spelling), was a musical act who introduced herself as a child star from a tiny village. Her voice reminded me of Sarah Keyworth (but without the boyish looks and LBQT material). She used the C-word as a punchline in her first song, which was unexpected, given how she set up her character. (Accordingly, she had to replace this word during the pickups.)

The final act was another character act: Karismaa, the centre-of-attention young woman with long blonde hair in the £4 Vinted sequin dress who claimed to be an empath and was into Tarot cards. She reminded me visually of Roisin Conaty, but I couldn't warm to her act. Not that she wasn't funny, but it wasn't my kind of thing. She had the scary energy of a hen-do.   

Then, there was an interval to allow the judges to deliberate.                   

Larry came back on, had some banter with the judges, and then JD informed him that there was a major fault. Queue a lengthy pad, where Larry entertained us. Someone must have remembered this was the job of the warm-up man because Gareth was sent back up onto the stage, where he died, only to be rescued by Ashley Storrie, who jumped into one of her routines about her family life. She didn't get to finish, though, as by then, they had fixed the fault.

Only they hadn't. Gareth, Ashley, and Larry all came back on to fill in until given the green light to restart the show. Eventually, Babatunde was allowed to announce the winner: Jonathan Oldman.

Then, the real fun began: the pickups. 

Larry needed to redo a couple of sections. He didn't quite understand what he had to do, and the scary JD had to keep correcting him. In between, while the crew worked out what they needed, Larry got to play around on stage. His Kevin Bridges impression was spot on. We were also treated to a short burst of his Gollum. Then, a producer told the acts which sections of their sets they needed to redo, removing any strong swear words. They all found it challenging to pick up their routines at the requisite part, finding it especially difficult to find their earlier energy, knowing they had lost. Maddie made light of this during her stint, but that just meant she had to do it again properly. 

As soon as JD called it a rap, the camera crews immediately started dismantling the equipment. It was amazing to see how fast they worked. I suppose they, too, wanted to go home. While this was going on, the acts were invited back onto the stage for the publicity shots. 

I wasn't conscious of being filmed, but who knows? My miserable resting face may end up on the iPlayer.  

The 'talent' table.

The competitors and on-screen talent.

The winner

Ticket Price: Free.

John Bishop, "Back At It" Tour, Paisley Town Hall, Paisley. Wednesday 18th September, 2024

This was my first visit to the Town Hall since its makeover. I didn't know what to expect. Space-age holograms? Virtual ushers? Levitating walkways? Nah, none of that.

Our tickets were for the balcony. A staff member inside the entrance directed us to go through a set of double doors and then take the stairs on the left to the top. As we ascended, the air had that fresh carpet smell, the tread underfoot soft and luxurious. Arriving at the first floor, the Gallery level, we were instructed to turn around and continue up. Another flight of stairs brought us to a silent area empty of people. It felt almost forbidden, like we'd climbed too far and were now one door away from finding ourselves outside on the roof. Then, a young gentleman in a OneRen T-shirt appeared, examined our tickets and told us where to sit - in the very back row.

When I purchased the tickets, I hadn't even realised the Town Hall had two tiers or that our seats would be the absolute furthest from the stage, so I was slightly disappointed. The view was ever-so-slightly restricted thanks to a lighting rig obscuring the upper part of the big screen on the stage.   

Thankfully, this got raised to the level of the others prior to the show beginning, but that didn't change the fact that we were so far from the stage. The temperature on the Balcony was sub-tropical, with various patrons fanning themselves furiously with their paper tickets to cool down. At least the seats were comfy. 

I was tired and occasionally found myself resting my chin on my hand as John, without a support act, did some crowd work sprinkled with anecdotes in the first half. I had a little difficulty making out what he was saying, partly due to his jowly Scouse accent and partly due to the hall sound. 

It didn't get better in the second half, though his prepared material did. Discussing his case of 'The Manopause', he acknowledged he'd been feeling out of sorts until a gynaecologist (long story) put him on testosterone. This, and forgetting Tommo, a childhood friend, during a random encounter with them, inspired him to complete the bucket list he'd written when he was seven. 

We hear how he managed to achieve most of them, including killing a Dalek and shooting a laser gun. My pedantic brain would not let me enjoy this bit. Nick (Briggs) isn't seventy and hasn't been doing the Dalek voices for over forty years (or so I thought at the time - he's been doing them on TV since 2005 and with Big Finish since 1996, but I'd forgotten about the Audio Visuals that started in the late '80s). Anyway, at the time, these inaccuracies quashed the comedy for me. 

His dilemma over whether to accept Sir Ian McKellen's personal request to appear with him in pantomime was funny. It could also have been interpreted as an attempt by Gandalf to groom the comic into snogging nightly for one hundred shows (semis optional). But that's theatre for you, darling.

A couple of pointless heckles irritated me. Someone shouting out 'Huw Edwards' while John was discussing Hugh Bonneville just seemed moronic, as John pointed out. He'd been discussing genetic Englishness, and Edwards is Welsh. Maybe the individual got triggered by the two sharing a similar-sounding first name. Fortunately, the heckles were few and far between, perhaps because John couldn't make out what was being said.    

The people I was with thoroughly enjoyed the show. I found it a bit shabby, a bit like his stage outfit. Maybe he's still perfecting his routines because it didn't feel like a polished, finished product. Or maybe my next expensive purchase should be a pair of luxury hearing aids to combat my own version of the manopause. 

Ticket Price: Ticketmaster

4 Full Price Ticket £32.50 x4 = £130.00 

Per Item Fees £3.25 (Service Charge Full Price Ticket) x4 £13.00 

Order Processing Fees 

Handling Fee £2.50 

Total £145.50 

Blue Rose Code, Alexander Wilson Suite, Paisley Town Hall. Fri 21st Dec 2018

While a few of my friends nipped along to the Barrowland to sample some old school Big Country and The Skids, I instead plumped for something quieter at Paisley Town Hall. I was a bit surprised to get parked so easily close to the venue until I discovered the gig wasn't in the main hall but instead upstairs in one of the smaller rooms.

It wasn't the kind of gig to take pictures so I'll do my best to describe it.

The ambience in the Alexander Wilson Suite was cosy but refined. Seats in rows of six on either side of the long room provided a capacity for around two hundred people. Most were taken up by a mainly mature audience with only a few empty ones near the back. The cold night was kept at bay by grilled radiators inset in the walls distributing warm air to the room. Dangling from the ornate ceiling, massive brass chandeliers conjured an image of mutant-legged spiders holding up dim, electric candles, some of which weren't lit, casting a soft glow on the audience below. Two spotlights, one on either side of the slightly raised stage, were accompanied by a couple of coloured uplighters, providing a pink tinge on the back wall and, as the musicians moved forward or back, creating bluey shadows, which stretched and shrank behind them.

Guitarist Lyle Watt was tonight's support act playing around twenty minutes of his instrumental compositions. He's a highly talented plucker, good enough for me to pop to the merch table to purchase his CD EP.

When it was time for Ross Wilson, aka Blue Rose Code, to take the stage he kept it simple, with just him and two band members on stage, the aforementioned Lyle on guitar and someone called Andy on keyboards. All three were bearded and in jumpers, Ross wearing a ribbed brown affair with a round neckline. Ross's hair was short and shaved, the others long but tied back.

Ross played acoustic guitar too and the sound generated by the band was beautiful and clear. The musicianship from all three was exquisite and tight and my only complaint would be that some of Ross' chat between songs was too conversational and a bit unclear at times. Talk into the mike, mate.

Unusually for a Paisley crowd on a Friday night, the audience was respectful and quiet, with only a few making excuses to visit the bar or toilet. At the end, the band got a standing ovation.

For those of you not versed in BRC's music, I would describe it as music to encapsulate the spirit of waking from a cosy night's sleep on a sunny Sunday morning with a view outside of a Scottish beach, the Atlantic waves gently lap against the shore. In the press, it's been described as 'Caledonia Soul'. It's certainly more than just folk music.

Even if I didn't end up rocking 'Into the Valley' tonight 'In a Big Country', I got to enjoy a cultured evening of beautiful, lyrical Scottish music. Cheers, Ross.

(He was much better tonight than the last time I saw him, at Saint Lukes).

Big Country plus The Skids, Paisley Town Hall. Fri 17th Nov 2017.

A sold-out gig, stacked to the rafters, this one off (or possibly first of) show saw the two bands who share a mutual history take to the Paisley stage to blow the roof off (and other rock cliches).

I was expecting Big Country to be the main act, given the ticket said so, but it was not to be.

Big Country appeared first to play a rousing, chant-a-long set of oldies but goodies (now some 34 years old). The lead guitarist did most of the chat between songs, introducing the other band members and bantering, which was unusual as this role is normally adopted by the main singer. Not that the singer was shy. I think he was giving the senior band member his place. Anyway, I loved them but it could have been a bit longer (where have I heard that before?)

Then on came The Skids, often seen as a precursor to BG. Now, I didn't know much about them beforehand, except Richard Jobson (ponsy 80's tv presenter with a penchant for fancy suits and culture programmes) was previously in the band and they had a couple of famous hits ("Working for the Yankee Dollar" and "Into the Valley"). And Stuart Adamson was in both bands. It was, therefore, a surprise to see them as the main act, given, I thought, Big Country was the bigger band.

But after the first song, I understood why.

The Skids did blow the roof off with a chugging punk rock sound, as the energetic main man, Richard Jobson, danced and kicked and spun and sang and loved every minute. The crowd of mainly 40-50-year-olds went nuts, bouncing and clapping and jumping and singing along to the old numbers. The spirit of the late 70s/early 80s imbued us all as we became teenagers again (not in a 'Cocoon' way). I was surprised there weren't more cardiac arrests though.

The two Big Country guitarists were part of the band, performing twice on the night (did they get double money?), but this time the lead guitarist settled for more of a background role as Richard held court over the audience. Which he did very well.

Only complaint: it was too short and they finished with a new song that sounds like it was written by a 50-year-old (it rhymes 'fire' and 'desire'). It would have been better to end on 'Into the Valley', their most well-known hit and the most well-received song of the night.

But a brilliant gig nonetheless. And so nice to see so many familiar faces in the crowd.

Apologies to the nice ladies I stood up tonight for this gig. You know who you are. Another time.

Admiral Fallow, Paisley Town Hall, Fri 14th Oct, 2016

I've raved about this band before. There is something about them that speaks to the Scotsman in me. Louis Abbott's vocals are as Scottish as whiskey blending perfectly with the indie pop voice of Sarah Hayes. Everything about the band melds, with multi- percussion, clarinet and flute, heavy drum beats, pounding bass and tuneful guitar licks. Their lyrics are poetic and heartfelt. They have three albums to their name, with a fourth due sometime next year, yet they've never had a hit, which is probably why the gig was not sold out.

It wasn't a perfect night: I forgot my phone so no piccies of the gig;

prior to the show, the server in Saporito messed up our order (no biggie and sorted quickly with apologies); then, after a stressful week, we elected to sit in the balcony, only for a G4S goon to strut in suited all in black, except for his ID lanyard, company striped tie and silver sideburns with receding slicked-backed grey hair, announcing the balcony was closed and we were all to get out, pointing down to the ground floor standing area like some referee sending us off. Grudgingly we complied, only to find others who objected were allowed to remain. There were about thirty of us decanted, with four objectors 'sitting' their ground. What really pissed me off was watching the balcony slowly refill with people obviously unaware the balcony was closed. As the gig wasn't a sellout, I can understand why they wanted to make the floor look more full but if you're going to make a rule, stick to it. It scunnered me.

The support act, Andrew Wasylyk, from Dundee, played solo on guitar and keyboards and was fine. A bit one tone but he has a good voice. A bit like a skinny, bearded seventies singer-songwriter playing from the heart.

The sound in the venue was great right up to the encore when the sound guys forgot to switch half the speakers back on until midway through the final track. It was disconcerting only hearing the music from above, like a gig in another venue bleeding through.

As we left, it looked like the Abbey and its grounds had been graffitied at a jaunty angle with the 'Paisley 2021' logo but it was just a projection. This time.

Hue and Cry, Paisley Town Hall. Sat 26th March 2016

The support act was Emily Middlemass, with a young backing band of teenagers, none of whom would have had any chance of being served alcohol at the bar. No pics because it felt really awkward to photograph her. She is 15/16 and looks about thirteen. She has a good pop voice and a rock/ pop sound, writes her own material, which is teen catchy, and has appeared on the X Factor, but it felt wholly inappropriate for a late-forty-odd male to be excited by her. I had to look away as she sat on the edge of the stage, fearing a Britney Spears exposure moment. Aside from a misfire finale of The Killers 'All These Things I've Done' (her only cover), she rocked the town hall. Early days for her, though. I may revisit when it's legal.

I was a big fan of Hue and Cry in the eighties and early nineties, seeing them perform in all sizes of venues, but lost my way after Stars Crash Down. Tonight the Kane brothers brought the full band to Paisley.Their show was a fair mix of all their stuff: the early pop classics, the Hue and Cry faves. to some newer jazzy stuff I'd not heard before.

I wasn't sure what to make of the audience. At first, I thought they were just Paisley punters there because it was in Paisley but not necessarily fans. I was surprised that so many sang along. The older stuff worked better, being more familiar. When they played the newer stuff a noticeable chunk of the audience made their way to the toilets or the bar for an empty/refill. Surrounded a mix of males and females of an older age group, I became aware tonight of the function of a beer belly - to rest one's pint on, with lots of men adopting this cosy position.

I didn't rate the trumpet player or the guitarist but the rest of the band were solid. Pat Kane's ego could fill any hall and he still gives a great performance, belting out the tunes and jerking his moves to the music. The sound was a little too loud for the venue (a bit distorted and screechy at times) and my ears are still ringing and probably will be for days. They gave us an hour and a half which was fine for Paisley.

Thank you to Jackie Mills for finding me a ticket after the gig sold out. It's lovely when a customer can repay your years of caring service with a favour. Cheers, Jackie.