Larry Dean, "Dodger", King's Theatre, Glasgow. Sunday 10th November, 2024.

The atmosphere in the theatre was electric, much more than it had been for last night's Milton Jones gig. That could have been because of The King's comedic history or because of the younger audience demographic. 

From the wings, Larry introduced the support act, George Zacharopoulos, who, as a Greek national (despite having lived in the UK for twenty-three years), still spoke with the accent of Harry Enfield's Stavros. Initially, I thought he was a lazy comic, going for the obvious immigrant jokes and peppering them with unnecessary profanity. Big turn off. Then, his cheeky charm began to shine. His material improved, and I got used to his accent. By the end, I was considering checking out his tour show at Blackfriars in December about his ex-girlfriend, who claimed to be a doctor, previously married with two kids, none of which was true. He shared a funny story about how Larry had sent him a picture of his haemorrhoids for a diagnosis from her, which Larry confirmed was accurate at the start of his set, making his own joke about it.

  

Larry's delivery is so good you just want to watch and listen to him being funny. It is the mark of a great comedian when you can laugh again at material you've already recently heard. He'd done the Scottish accent material on The Late Show, and he'd talked about his autism diagnosis on the mixed-bill show at St Luke's. The stuff about his nanna was fresh to me, though, and this formed the bulk of the show, which I really enjoyed. I admired and laughed hard at the final punchline, a callback to a previous autism joke. It was the perfect way to end the show.

I didn't enjoy listening to the girl behind me coughing, who couldn't just do one cough and stop. No, she needed at least two: one to loosen and then a deeper, more lung-wrenching one to clear, occasionally followed by a third to remove the remaining residue from her throat. It's just as well the theatre doesn't provide a spittoon, or else she'd have been borrowing her mate's, having filled her own. I guess she just had to swallow it afterwards. Or maybe it pinged back into her lungs like an elastic band.  

The tall brunette lady in the short leather skirt, sitting on the right of my wife, wouldn't rise for passing patrons, instead preferring to press her bare legs against the seat. She only vacated her seat once, at the interval. Upon her return, she managed to knock over the pint of Coca-Cola she'd placed under the seat. As it flowed forward, she apologised to the people in front. But their coats were not touching the floor, unlike the people in the two rows in front of them, who lifted up the affected apparel in disgust. Lesson: never leave your coat lying on a raked floor because, if you do, there will always be a careless idiot behind you. Ironically, she didn't kick over her other pint (of water), which was also under her seat, so she didn't go thirsty.

Perhaps Larry's tour name should have been 'Dodge her', referring to all the irritating fruit loops of that particular gender.  

Ticket Price:  £21.88 x 2, plus transaction fee £3.95 = £47.71

Milton Jones, "Ha!Milton", Pavilion Theatre, Glasgow. Saturday 9th November, 2024.

The Hot Damn! were playing in Audio tonight, but I'd already purchased tickets for this show, and my wife really wanted to go, so off we went. 

Front-row tickets for the Grand Circle gave us a fantastic, unimpeded view of the stage, which was dressed with large objects covered in white sheets. A large screen stood at the back.

The support act, Tom Houghton, announced himself for the first half, drawing consternation from the crowd. He's a posh boy, son of a retired top military official no less, which did little to wheedle him into the affection of this Glasgow crowd. He had to work hard to draw any laughs, and his crowd work generated little more than a single sentence from anyone. Indeed, the biggest laugh came from an audience response after he asked if anyone had a hairy body, and someone did a Chewbacca voice impression.

We were on safer ground with Milton. As always, he was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, with his hair gelled to bouffant. This show had a lightly theatrical tone, as per the title, and vaguely revolved around a cease-and-desist letter he received from Cameron Mackintosh's production company about the tour title. The jokes were clever, with only a few drawing groans. I loved his Braveheart giant cue card joke and how he referred back to it later with another joke.  

This show used five large props, more than I remember from any of his previous tours, perhaps leaning more into the show's theatrical aspects. He used a crib, an overhead projector (I nearly shouted out the expected heckle to one joke, only for him to subvert the response when it did come), a rocking chair, which, when reversed, doubled as the front of a boat, a Punch-and-Judy-style TV theatre, and a giant snail that he crawled inside for his finale routine. 

There were callbacks aplenty, and the show was consistently funny, even with the few groaners. I can't knock his talent for joke creation. A lot of skill and quick thinking went into tonight's performance. I just wish it hadn't been on at the same time as The Hot Damn!  

Ticket Price: £38 x 2 plus £3.95 service fee from Trafalgar Tickets 

Blue Rose Code, "Bright Circumstances Tour, Part 2", Tolbooth, Stirling. Wednesday 6th November, 2024

 

I wasn't in the mood for this gig tonight. My plan had been to travel from and to the cabin, but circumstances got in the way of that, so I faced a longer-than-expected journey to a venue I'd never been to before. At least it was dry. 

My sat nav successfully directed me to my usual Stirling car park at Forthside, and then I used Google Maps to direct me on foot to the venue. I still managed to walk past it. Upon arrival, with my ticket down as 'Box Office Collection', I provided my details and received an ink stamp on the back of my hand. I had a couple of minutes before the doors opened at 7.30 pm, so I went to the loo and then faced a handwashing dilemma. How do you wash them properly without removing the stamp? I figured I wouldn't be shaking hands with anyone anyway, so I chose to perform a cursory splash (I did give them a proper wash when I got home). 

By the time I went upstairs, the raked-seated auditorium was already reasonably packed for this sell-out gig. They must have opened the door early because I don't think the Grey Brigade, who were out in force, could have filled that many seats so comfortably in so short a time. I don't know if Ross's audience now skews older or if it was a midweek Stirling thing, but everyone was pleasant and polite, even the few clutching their plastic-cupped pints. 

Ross and his band came on at 8 p.m. and performed two sets. The saxophonist and drummer departed the stage occasionally for the acoustic numbers, leaving Ross and his talented guitarist to strum their way through a few songs I didn't know. I still wasn't feeling the vibe and considered making an exit, but the drive was too long to abort this early. 

Then, he told us of his estranged mother's passing earlier this year. He didn't go into detail, preferring to describe how he believes songs can take on new meaning as life events unfold before performing 'Sadie', which he dedicated to his mum. The depth of feeling in the lyrics touched me, and I knew I wasn't going home early.

I did feel he murdered his cover of the Norah Jones song "Come Away With Me", his vocal style not suiting the breathy beauty of the original.

Ross constantly moves while he performs. He can't help himself, whether shaking his head in front of the microphone or dancing with his acoustic guitar. I wish he would employ more stillness to enhance his performance. His lyrics are so soulful they deserve to be the focus sometimes. 

I'm glad I stayed. The last few songs were pure BRC bangers. His tribute to his best mate, "Now the Big Man has Gone On," packed an emotional punch, ending with a recording of his answerphone message to Ross.  

The walk back to the car was quiet except for one pedestrian area, which was packed with students in fancy dress. I overheard one conversation between a tall, skinny girl dressed in leather and lace and her casually attired boyfriend. She asked him if he was upset with her costume, and he bluntly replied, "Yes." I could see why, but I tried not to stare. It did look like he'd employed her services for the night, but mainly because he hadn't made an effort. 

On a positive note, I only missed one easily corrected turn on the long drive home.

Setlist:
TBC.
(I tried to take a picture of the handwritten setlist, but the lighting was too poor)

Red Kites

Grateful

Ticket Price: £24 (advance inc fees) from box office stirling.gov.uk.

Maisie Adam "Appraisal" tour, Glee Club, Glasgow. Wednesday 30th October, 2024

 

Maisie may have changed her hairstyle, but she's still a naturally comedic tour-de-force. 

She had no support act. She did the first half herself. She didn't use any prepared material (she didn't need to), spending the entire forty minutes doing crowd work. On paper, it sounded like standard stuff: What's your name? Where are you from? What do you do? Is this your partner? How did you meet? How long have you been together? - the kind of thing a support act relies on to pad time. She made it consistently funny. I laughed a lot during this section, mainly due to one gem of an audience member, one the geologist in the front row would have appreciated as it took the heat off him. What was most surprising, though, was that this person was not in the front row or even close to the front but was, in fact, at the back. 

Marcus, from Pocklington (but living in Glasgow), trained in Contemporary Performance Practice (wanky theatre) at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland but was now working in the gift shop at the Science Museum, whose best-seller is bouncy balls. His simpering voice filled the room without the need for amplification. His every reply was naturally absurd. When asked to give an example of what CPP was, he told us that for his final exam, he dressed as a werewolf and performed cabaret. Are you dressing up as a werewolf for Halloween? Maisie asked. "No, unfortunately, the Halloween party has a witch theme. My costume has a witchy / Victorian governess kind of vibe." At one point, you could have been forgiven for thinking they were a double act, and she was the straight person (no homophobia intended).

The second half was very much prepared material. And boy, can she pack a lot of words in. Her mouth hardly stopped. While many of her chosen topics were commonplace (babies, friendship groups, ageing parents, hen do's), her vivacious personality and comedic delivery sold it to the room. Showing a high degree of skill, many times she weaved in references to audience members, the Forth Valley becoming a running joke. I loved how far she extended her comparison of baby photos and dick pics. That was smartly observed writing.

I love that she loves her job and that she's so self-deprecating. I also loved how her spin on Michael Macintyre's The Wheel led to the amusing video finale, which I won't spoil. You'll have to witness that with your own mince pies.

On the basis of tonight's performance, I'd grade her appraisal as exceptional.

Blurb

Stand-up show Maisie Adam: Appraisal will tour between September and November 2024.

The comedian's promoters say: "After her previous completely sold out, highly acclaimed debut tour, and fresh from hosting Live At The Apollo and appearances on A League Of Their Own and Have I Got News For You, Maisie Adam is heading back out on tour with her brand new show, Appraisal.

"It's been a meteoric rise through the comedy ranks for Maisie and she's fast on her way to becoming a household name. Stand-up is what she loves most and she's now five years into her job as a comedian, so perhaps she's due an appraisal. Appraisal will be the ultimate performance review, where we'll see just why she was awarded Best New Act and nominated Best Newcomer...or, is she heading towards an 'organisational restructure'?"

Urzila Carlson, "Just Jokes", (8PM show) The Old Fruitmarket, Glasgow. Sunday 20th October, 2024

I used to think I got ill because of stress at work. It turns out I just have a weak constitution. After three consecutive nights out, I've picked up a lurgy that makes my voice sound like I've been possessed by Beelzebub. But that won't stop me from attending this gig (no cough, no fever, just a voice that could do cinema voiceovers). Nor will Storm Ashley with her 60 mph winds. I think I can counter that with a curry at Koolba, a restaurant opposite the Old Fruitmarket. Tam Cowan is in there too, sampling their fare, including a final glass of red wine for the road, which he didn't drink, possibly believing they would pour it on the cobbles after he left, VAT receipt in hand. 

I had done no research about Urzila prior to attending her gig. I hadn't watched her Netflix special or any of her routines on YouTube. I didn't know if she was a vulgar comic, a musical act, a one-liner or a storyteller. The only facts about her that I knew were that she was from South Africa, now lived in New Zealand and was friends with Melanie Bracewell (a Kiwi comic that I caught this year at the Fringe).

Despite being a sell-out, there were a few gaps in the audience. Perhaps train cancellations were to blame, or maybe those people bottled it, unwilling to witness her vulgarity in person. For example, she describes her job as saying 'Cunt' to people sitting in the dark. Her set includes an extended bit about her recent Amy Schumer film experience where they wanted her to have grey hair (spoiler: her hair won't colour!). She also talked about the task she did on the NZ Taskmaster, which won her the accolade of being the only contestant to break a bone during a task. She's a lesbian, but she would willingly give up the lady flaps if she married a male lottery billionaire. In return for allowing her to retire, she'd promise him three blowjobs a day (she obviously wouldn't do the task herself (cue gag reflex) - she'd outsource it to a young homosexual boy as they know how to give the best BJs).

Bizarrely, her smoothed South African accent and her laugh remind me of Belinda Bauer, the crime author. Not that Belinda would go into extended detail about her attempts to shave her lady parts using a mirror and a Boots-bought, two-blade Bic razor to impress a new partner. I imagine she would keep that private. 

An interpreter for the deaf joined Urzila on stage for the entire show ("Because it's important"). For once, the comedian does not draw humour from having the interpreter sign the rude bits. She's largely ignored, except when Urzila takes a drink of water. At that point, the interpreter drinks, too, creating an almost choreographed mirror image (not that the reflections match).

Urzila is quite the force of nature. She makes no apologies for crossing the line of decency, and the predominantly female audience laps it up. Was I entertained? Undoubtedly. Would I pay to see her again? Maybe not. I don't think I'm her demographic. At least she reminded me that men get breast cancer, too.    

Performance length: 1hr 40 mins.

Ticket Price from Glasgow Life Tickets £17.50 x 2, plus Online Transaction Fee £1.50, plus Booking Fee £4.20 Total (GBP) £40.70

The Real People, Drygate, Glasgow. Saturday 19th October, 2024

Two brothers reform their band, which split during the 90s, and tour. Sound familiar? 

No, it's not Oasis playing Drygate in Glasgow at £18.50 a ticket (there is no greedy dynamic pricing for this gig). These guys are from Liverpool, but they did play a part in making the Oasis boys the superstars they became. 

I was apprehensive about attending this gig. The RAF roundel, in their name, suggested 'mod' music, which was reinforced by the clothes the band wore on the poster. I have a history there going back to a Saxon gig in the eighties where a gang of mods came looking for trouble outside the Apollo and chased a group of us down to the Savoy Centre in Sauchiehall Street, resulting in one of us needing hospital attention. This tarnished my view of the whole mod musical scene with their Adidas/ Fred Perry T-shirts, posh clobber and fancy sideburns.

I'm sitting upstairs in Drygate. The room where the band is due to play is empty because all the fans are in the bar. A superfan is holding court at the bench table next to mine when one of the brothers appears. Warmly greeting the superfan, he gets introduced to everyone at the table. It's a lovely moment to witness one of the originals saying hello. It sets the friendly tone for the evening. I begin to relax.      

Hardly anyone comes through to see the support act, The Belugas. From their accents, the band sounds local. The lead singer has more charisma than the rest of the band combined. The guitarist and bassist look nervous, like it's a school concert and they need to concentrate on playing. Either that or they don't understand that they need to sell their performance to win the crowd's time investment. Overall, much like caviar, the Belugas were not to my taste. They were lacklustre.

The sparse crowd grows substantially by the time The Real People take the stage—not that it's busy. The venue seems bigger than necessary for the size of the crowd. Initially, it was scheduled to take place at Broadcast, but that Glasgow venue closed due to flooding. I take up a position close to the front. A core group of fans are ahead of me, but my view is still clear. One notable lady, clutching her 7" vinyl and T-shirt, busts her moves directly in front of the band. Another in a Barcelona sports jacket dances like she has Tourettes, all spiky moves and leg jerks. I wonder if this is how mods dance.

The band is excellent. With the two brothers on dual vocal duties, the rhythm section providing a solid, driving beat, and the two young guitarist and keyboard players giving it their all, the band produces a tight, powerful sound. I have no prior knowledge of their songs, but I enjoy them nonetheless. It is easy to hear where Oasis took their influence (need I remind you, this band predates Oasis). 

They play for a solid hour and a quarter and finish bang at 10 p.m. The crowd doesn't disperse, expecting an encore, but the band don't return. The lack of change in the audience lighting doesn't help matters (the fairy lights, strung across the entire ceiling, were not switched off during the performance). Eventually, they realise the show is over and depart.

I really enjoyed The Real People, much to my relief and surprise. Worth checking out. 

Setlist

(At Drygate, not the O2 Academy)

Video

The Truth

Ticket Price: Free (a gift from Kenny, cheers mate). Face Value £18.50.

The Belugas

The Belugas, watched by The Real People

The Real People

Superfans getting down at the front.

Nina Nesbitt, The Old Fruitmarket, Glasgow. Friday 18th October, 2024.

 

A busy, wet Friday night in Glasgow meant me driving around the city centre looking for somewhere free to park, finding the only empty parking spaces reserved for the disabled. Frustratingly, there were places with single yellow lines, which would have been available except for the signs indicating parking was suspended. It was only after doing a couple of circuits that I noticed the dates on the signs had already passed, so I managed to stop on a street near the venue. 

I joined the queue waiting in the rain outside the venue, bodies pressed against the building to keep dry for those of us without umbrellas. The staff let us in early, and we formed two lines inside the venue in front of each of the doors. I joined the second queue, skipping further ahead than I had been outside. My smugness was punctured when the staff then only opened the other door, that line flowing in while we stood exasperated at being left behind. Eventually, the staff apologised and told us to go in too.

Not a good start, but I still managed to find a place near the front without any really tall people ahead of me. I had a clear view of the central microphone. Beside me on my left was a father with his young girl, who could only have been about fourteen. The bubbly redhead on my right was with her two friends. She must have taken about forty selfies of herself before thinking about including her friends. Oh, to be young and beautiful! Ahead of me, many of the crowd had tote bags and lanyards: the VIPs who had paid extra for a preshow meet and greet, and access to the soundcheck. 

The first support act was Kerr Mercer. A Glasgow lad, he sang mournful ballads akin to Lewis Capaldi, acknowledging his set was full of them. He played one cover, Paolo Nutini's Last Request, and did it justice. His confidence on stage was palpable, disclosing, although he hadn't yet released any material, he'd already headlined at King Tut's, SWG3 and St Luke's and was next due to play at The Garage. Not bad for a homegrown talent.

Next up was Inverness lassie Katie Gregson-MacLeod. Adept on the keyboards and guitar, she, too, played a set of personal songs about relationships and heartbreak. She admitted she would change the names when recording the songs, but she hadn't done so yet, so we were getting an exclusive dose of her reality. She'd used her phone to act as a timer so she didn't overrun her set. During her last song, she realised she hadn't switched off the alarm noise and had a fit of the giggles when it went off, sharing the joke with us by holding her phone to the microphone. "Dring, dring, dring". She, too, is coming back to Glasgow later in the year, but the show hasn't been announced officially yet, so she couldn't tell us about it.

Unusually, the father and daughter left their spot before Nina came on. I figured the young girl didn't want to find the Ladies on her own, so her dad went with her. Next, I saw two staff members rushing an unconscious small person horizontally backstage, the father right behind them. She must have fainted. Such a shame.

On Nina's last tour, I felt the show lacked balance, a series of ballads that sounded beautiful but didn't energise the audience. Fortunately, with Mountain Music (her new album), she has recognised this by writing a number of faster numbers, and this benefitted tonight's set. Her confidence has grown, too, and she talked more between numbers, explaining how the songs came to be and what they meant to her. 

I did wonder about the set dressing, specifically the backdrop. Three jumpers and one dress hung from coat hangers on the curtain. Had they run out of room in the dressing room, or had they got wet on the way into the gig and left there to drip dry? Their presence was never explained. 

The show wasn't as exciting as Seb Lowe the previous night, but music can serve different needs at different times. This was more about beautiful harmonies and personal lyrics. Despite being a self-confessed introvert, she knows how to engage with her audience. I enjoyed myself.

The merch stall was too busy to see anything, so I bypassed it and went home. Only later did I realise I'd also bought her CD along with the ticket. I'm now onto Ticketmaster to check if there is a way to still get it (not that I need it, given I can stream the album).   

Setlist

The Apple Tree

Pages

On The Run

Anger

Painkiller

Treachery

Hard Times

Big Things, Small Town (included an extra verse about Glasgow)

Mansion

Parachute

Encore:

What Will Make Me Great (Solo)

Alchemise

Last December (included extra verse)

The Best You Had

Caledonia

I'm Coming Home

Videos

Pages

Anger

Coming Home

Ticket Price via Ticketmaster.

1 Full Price Ticket £18.00
Nina Nesbitt - CD Album £11.00
Service Charge x1 £1.80
Order Processing Fees Handling Fee £1.35
Total £32.15

Lighting a candle
Nina's calming alternative to a stage pyro

Encore costume change 

Phone lighting to accompany Caledonia

Moon Music album cover