It happens sometimes. You fall flat. That’s what makes doing stand up so terrifying and exhilarating. Everytime you fall flat you want to get back up there and achieve the elation of having a great gig. And whenever you have a great gig, riding waves of applause and laughter, you are thankful that you didn’t bomb.
It’s a bit like being a drug addict, I suppose. Always in pursuit of the perfect high. After last night, maybe I should take up heroin. It doesn’t pay so well, but there’s a lot less travel.
I didn’t exactly bomb last night at The Liffey, I just didn’t really fire on all cylinders. I chose the wrong material for the audience. Or it was the right material and the wrong audience. Or maybe I’m just a bit put out that I wasn’t as funny as I have been of late.
My analysis is that I was doing my Swedish act in English rather than doing an English act for an English speaking crowd. I think I have really developed my onstage persona in Swedish and I am now very confident that it works. The trouble was last night, that speaking in my mother tongue, I lost a lot of the charm and naivety that I have when I speak Swedish. Nothing more tedious than a comedian analysing a performance, eh?….You live and learn…
I was also onstage following, without doubt, a far superior comedian. My old mucker, Isak Jansson, who once again showed that he has not only a fantastic command of English but also of a variety of English accents. The audience absolutely adored him and it would have been hard for anyone to top his performance. Mr. Jansson, the night was yours!
OK. Onwards and upwards. Tonight, back to performing in Swedish at a Julbord. Back on the horse… and I’m not talking about heroin (yet).
Break a leg.
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