It is often said that the best nights are those that come without warning. A lunchtime run-in with a one-time Bluesbunny (and perennial maniac) led to this Bluesbunny spending a night in Pivo Pivo. A quiet night in was on the cards initially but that idea quickly escaped from sight. A night of music and comedy was now on the cards.
Our compere for the evening was Ross Main, who did himself no disfavours by containing his audience with his words. Almost as a farmer herds his sheep though I’m yet to be convinced that I’ve seen or heard a farmer elicit laughter from his animals. Perhaps they’d get eaten less if we heard them laugh more.
First to borrow time on the mic was Darren Connell. “Not quite conventional” can be applied to most aspects of his image and routine, but this fellow should be praised as much for his timing as for the nature of his act. I’m sure much of the audience would agree that they’d go see this lad again. Hopefully they’ll do so.
Who says that women can’t do comedy? The lovely Eleanor Morton - with ukulele for company - suggests that they can. Either that or Ms Morton stands wonderfully alone. Generally, the ukulele will strike most people as a novel, if slightly quaint, tool by which music can be conjoined with comedy. With a fine sense of humour and no fear of singing, Eleanor Morton will surely become a familiar name in British comedy circles.
Pronto Mama sounds like - and somewhere in the world, probably is - the name of a nice Italian restaurant. For now, we can agree it is the name of a band playing in Glasgow. Evoking immediate thoughts of The Libertines, this act, while not the finished article, put in a commendable performance, and through such performances they will only continue to grow. Good show.
Perhaps taking the prize biscuit for the evening was the floppy-fringed Will Setchell. Nerves seemed to convert to energy as his performance went on so it made sense that any audience interaction also seemed to supercharge his batteries. Not that it was needed, of course. An exciting and strangely likeable comic.
Richard Gadd rounded off the evening’s laughter with a performance that, while hugely funny at times, did seem a little too laboured for its own good. However, I’m willing to catch this performer on another night, where I’m sure that my concerns will be swept strongly away. Besides, if any of my companions were to find that I was getting preachy about comedy, they’d more than likely have my eyes and larynx painfully removed.
It would be too easy - and downright cheap - to suggest that Reykjavik (a band from Glasgow, just so that we’re clear) have an “icy” sound. However, with their overall sound not straying far from Biffy Clyro territory, it’s perhaps appropriate. On this evidence, they’re also quite good.
All in all, a good evening. Too bad that the night had to pass into morning. Reality fences us in again. Similar to…sheep?