Cardiff has always been one of my favourite cities to play. On the first embryonic Lee and Herring tour back in about 93 we played the University and were interviewed by some Welsh misfits who were putting together an "On The Hour" fanzine (in the old days when you had to do these things using paper and photocopiers) - those same misfits wrote the sleevenotes for the Fist of Fun DVD incidentally and one of them drew "The Organ Gang" - and then, of course, it was the seaweed eating Cardiff based foole Chris Evans (not that one) who made the bold decision to start filming our shows for DVD release when no one else was interested. I've had fun gigs through the years at the Chapter Arts and the Glee Club and the Masonic Hall. And also St David's Hall where I was tonight. In the past I have always done my solo shows here in the sizeable bar and it's been a long term ambition to play the (admittedly massive) main hall. I did a short spot at the Gala here last year and maybe we did it with Lee and Herring at some point, but I'd never done a full show there.
Tonight I made the step up. I was by no means going to fill it (I think it's got a capacity of 1000 or so, maybe more), but there were going to be enough to make it enjoyable to play and in the end the lower section of the theatre was pretty much full, even if the sprawling balconies were empty (I still acknowledged them at the end, pretending they were full). It's been a long journey getting here and there is still some way to go before I could fill the place (book your seat for 2037 now), but as always the slow journey and the hard work to get to this stage made it all the more meaningful to me.
The dressing room even had a single bed in it, and I tried to imagine all the wild sex that various acts must have had with groupies on top of it, though I suspected that in actuality many acts had just taken the opportunity to have a nap (Dara O'Briain tweeted to confirm he had done exactly that). But still.
There was no whirlpool bath and no fridge of champagne or bowls of cocaine, though I suspect there is another dressing room like that for acts who have sold a bit better, but I was happy to be here, rather than in the meeting room which had served as my dressing room on my other visits here. Also unusually the dressing room had a big window, overlooking the city and I read the Guardian and watched the sun set and the people pass by. It had been raining all day, but the evening sun over Cardiff was rather beautiful.
And any worries that marriage had sucked the funny out of me were allayed by tonight's gig, which couldn't have been more different than last night's. I do enjoy playing the small and intimate venues, but when you step out on to the massive stage in a beautiful theatre like this with hundreds of people in front of you, it is something very special. For all my claims to be happy with the modest level of success I have found I couldn't help wishing that every show was like tonight's. But maybe if it was it would become the norm and I'd no longer appreciate it.
I think with this emotional journey, plus the welcome I got from both the crowd and the absolutely brilliant staff at this venue (definitely the best crew I have ever worked with at a theatre of this size - one of them, who has worked here over all my gigs in the last few years was almost as pleased as I was that I had made the leap to the big room) that tonight had to be one of the best and most satisfying gigs of my career so far. And maybe the slightly sticky one in Andover last night just added to that.
Mein Kampf has been a long one and I still don't feel in anyway secure that I'd be back in this room next year, but I will keep on pushing onwards. It's such a delicate balance as I'd very much like to retain my valuable day to day anonymity, yet I'd like it if maybe two times as many people came to see my shows. Which just means that everyone who came this year comes next year with a friend.
There have been a few setbacks this year with my radio show ending and it looking increasingly unlikely that Gorgeous will not be picked up, but I am determined to pick myself and push onwards, even if I am not going to hit my 8 years of Warming Up ambition to be back on TV on the tenth anniversary. Every year that passes and every script or show that gets knocked back makes it seem less likely that I will get that kind of break again. But the last three scripts I have written that have been rejected have all been good and I will just have to sit down and write an even better one and eventually, hopefully, someone will recognise that they're good, or I will accept that I am shit. Either way is cool.
Try again, fail again, fail better.
But if this is as high as I go and the rest of the career remains at this level I will be happy enough. I am a very lucky man and when I look at some of my contemporaries who've had a more charmed route to success and who subsequently can get away with doing stuff that's a bit sub standard, I feel even luckier. I would happily have taken the exact same route twenty years ago and there are one or two comics that I almost view as alternate realities of what might have happened to me. And it can seem like a bit of a nightmare alternative from this perspective.
If nothing else they will never experience the mind bending effect of touring a show that has 100 people watching it one night and then 400 the next and goes from stages in stand up clubs that are only twice as wide as me, to massive sprawling stages like tonight - no wonder McIntyre skips all over the shop.
Incidentally tickets are now on sale for this year's
Edinburgh Fringe Podcast. Hope you can make it down - there's a chance to win prizes and tickets and see some of Edinburgh's biggest present and future stars up close, on a tiny stage. Talking Cock will be on sale soon too.
And don't miss your chance to get your name
in the Talking Cock programme.
