mostly david ephgrave

Tonight I took my wife out for a meal at a local Japanese restaurant, which was probably my first time eating in one of that nation's UK establishments except for Wagamama. My diet is the polar opposite of my mum's (who keeps an eye on my blog almost permanently, so somewhere in her house a buzzer just went off) in that I'm willing to give most things a try. My only stipulation is I don't eat meat, which I gave up around six years ago, though I still eat fish (their soulless eyes are my get-out clause) . The only major foreign food group I’m unlikely to opt for is Indian, though I don’t completely rule it out; it’s just not my first choice. It’s probably surprising I’m keen to try new food when you consider my childhood diet, which inevitably didn’t explore the four corners of the culinary globe (there’s something wrong with that sentence shape-wise) as that wasn't to my mum’s taste, while my dad embraced the role of a 30-to-40-something man in the 1980s whole

Today I went into London for an MRI scan - apparently they don’t have the technology around our parts - which felt and sounded a bit like I was being 3D-printed; that, or I was being sent through the internet via a dial-up modem: let me know if you find me anywhere. The reason for the scan was to try and shine more light on my long-term dizziness, though I’m concerned they may also have noticed my tiny, tiny brain in the process. It was a strange experience, though I used the time to meditate, partly as I thought this would make me less likely to move. Thankfully it only took around half an hour, which was pretty bearable as the noise and sensation weren’t exactly conducive to meditation really. I couldn’t help but think of my dad’s rather extreme visit to Lister Hospital a couple of months ago; a day that started with the police breaking down his door and ended with him being whisked off to Addenbrooke’s by ambulance in the early hours of the morn

I'm regularly drawn back to Sixties-era Motown and more specifically to songs like this. I know my chosen example’s hardly obscure but it’s still worth another listen to remind you how note-for-note perfect it is. It’s not just the song; it’s the performance and production, which manages to capture the sentiment of head-over-heels love in a vivid snapshot. There’s something about the sound the Motown studio committed to tape back then that’s so different to what the UK produced - it probably helps that it’s almost always the same backing band, though that’s not just it - and while the mics and engineers were partially responsible, I think it's largely due to the musicality of the lead vocalists and backing singers that blend so perfectly. This song brings back memories of the first time I toured the Netherlands in 2004 as the bassist on a Sixties compilation show. We were staying in the Dutch equivalent to a Center Parcs with the band spread across four or five log cab

There’s a lot to be said for putting aside some time for reading, which I did today. I’m in a strange no-man’s land after last week’s hectic ending, which has been reemphasised by my wife visiting her mum today to help clear out her shed. I still have lots to do - lots I tell you - but the urgency’s lessened for the first time in weeks; it’s a temporary respite or the calm before the storm, depending on how you look at it. Consequently, I spent the afternoon getting better acquainted with Robert Harris’ latest novel 'Munich', which my wife bought me for my birthday. This was a much-needed treat; it felt good to do something for the enjoyment instead of filling every free minute with work. I spend too much time trying to be productive, seeking to cram in as much as I can. My journeys to and from Brighton last week were a perfect case in point, as I was on my computer hroughout. While it’s great to make the most of the time available, there’s a lot to be said for doing

In many ways I’ve had the perfect evening, by watching a few of my favourite Simpsons episodes with my wife and a bottle of wine (not one and the same) closely followed by Tony Hancock’s The Blood Donor to round off. While both series are amongst my go-to wind-down choices, with me watching C4’s evening showing of The Simpsons almost every day of the week at 6pm and catching up on the radio broadcast of Hancock’s Half Hour on BBC Radio 4 Extra every Monday, we decided to treat ourselves by making a rapidly lengthening list of what we see as some of the best ever Simpsons shows to work our way through online. Both programmes are impeccably written when they’re at their best and are prone to make me laugh out loud time and again. The Simpsons shows we’ve got through so far - we actually started yesterday are: ·       ‘King-Size Homer’: Homer puts on weight so he can work from home; probably my all-time favourite episode, though to be fair, th

I’m probably being hypersensitive, but I often feel on the outside of the comedy community or clique. What triggered this thought today - though it comes up a lot - was seeing someone I know who's performing in Brighton this month (and whose promotional tweets I regularly share) tweeting about someone else's show, and then clicking on that tweet to see it had been shared multiple times while remembering what little interest was given to my show earlier this week. I know I shouldn’t be this petty, but it’s hard not to correlate your popularity against others around you to find yourself lacking; I sometimes feel my role is to offer other people gigs and present reasonably high-profile line-ups myself while getting nothing back. I know I shouldn’t put so much emphasis on what happens on social media when it’s fickle in nature at best. However it seems some people are permanently on broadcast mode and would never consider thanking you for helpi

Today's show got a quieter reaction to yesterday, mainly due to a rather bijou audience spreading themselves around the room in pockets instead of sitting together, which counterintuitively made them feel more self-conscious than safe that they were tucked out of the way.  Me, during tonight's show at The Quadrant. The success of live comedy in a small venue is an exercise in psychology; if the audience and comic don't feel like they're in the same boat, it just doesn’t work. You can sometimes literally feel people wanting to get onside, yet some subtle awkwardness in the air renders it impossible; it’s like watching a film you’ve endlessly praised to a friend for it to fall completely flat when you show it to them; suddenly something you love seems completely barren when seen through someone else’s eyes. While the response was muted, it still went reasonably well, despite a slightly clunky beginning; there were a few nice moments of connection here a

While getting to Brighton today was a little stressful with a cancelled and delayed train along the way, it was worth the effort as the show was a lorra fun (sorry Cilla). My wife and I arrived at the venue less than an hour before kick-off for the usual frenetic set-up, which ended with me putting on my show clothes all sweaty and stressed. Seconds after changing my underwear a punter walked in, which led to a completely crossed-purposes conversation with me trying to explain the house wasn’t open yet that I pitched a little too aggressively. I managed to call him back for some damage limitation, which wasn’t exactly the best way to get into a show mindset. Despite the stressful lead-up, when I started the gig things thankfully clicked. It helped that the audience were onside from the off and seemed more than happy to go along with my off-the-cuff tangents. I love it when it’s like that as gives you something to bounce off of, and gives material the life it often lacks in rehear

I never thought I’d say this but chatting to Bobby Davro is such a calming influence. Bobby Davro storming it at Hitchin Mostly Comedy (23.05.18) I shared the bill with him tonight at Mostly Comedy, marking the first time I rolled out an extended set of the material that will eventually become my new show, which I had expected to be a little difficult, what with me being such a comparatively unknown entity. While I was genuinely delighted when Bobby agreed to do the gig, I didn’t know if I’d painted myself in a corner by adding him to same bill as me, as I didn’t know if his crowd would be attuned to a younger act trying out some sketchy work-in-progress. The afternoon was inevitably stressful as I watched the time I’d set aside to run my set disappear into a vapour in favour of the endless admin that goes with setting up the club. However hard you try to take it in your stride, there comes a point where the day starts to proverbially bum you

Today was one of those few instances where I managed to get everything done I’d set out to do, despite a few flies in the proverbial ointment that could have slowed me down along the way. The most important thing in my itinerary was running my extended work-in-progress set for tomorrow’s Mostly Comedy and ostensibly for my two dates in Brighton on Thursday and Friday too. I’d originally intended to bulk out the set in Brighton by taking my acoustic guitar and slipping in a couple of the songs that may make it into my show for Edinburgh, but if today’s run without them was anything to go by, that shouldn’t be necessary, as the running time came in at about forty-five minutes, which is more than enough for a Free Fringe show that should run slightly longer with laughs anyway (and at least two of the standing ovations I’ve grown to expect) while also accounting for a possible late start / finish and giving a little headroom for a quick get-out. I ran

Today, I listened to the audio of a lost episode of the TV version of Hancock’s Half Hour that I haven’t heard before (the 'Horror Serial') and it’s testament to how good Galton & Simpson’s writing was and how well the cast brought the dialogue to life that it held up brilliantly without pictures and was just as funny as much of their best work. The episode is included as part of volume one of the BBC’s Hancock Collectibles series, which I bought the other day (using a voucher given to me for my birthday no less) and was a treat to hear. I must have seen and heard pretty much all of their surviving work from this period countless times - not to mention a fair few of the lost episodes that were remade for BBC Radio 4’s excellent ‘The Missing Hancocks’ series (which I attended two recordings of, thanks to the kindness of Kevin Eldon) - so it was a definite treat to be confronted with an episode I’d never experienced. It was a bit like dreaming you were listening to an un

Today I find myself in the strange position of having had a very productive day preparing for my work-in-progress dates this week, while also feeling it’s quite likely a lot of what I’ve been working on won’t actually make it into the show I take to Edinburgh. The reason for this isn’t to do with the standard of the material, but more because there are certain points I want to get across to fit the theme of my Edinburgh title ‘David Ephgrave: My Part in His Downfall’ that aren’t there at the moment, and by the time I’ve ticked them all off there weren’t be much room for what I already have. That’s not to say I won’t keep things in if they really work, but I suspect the biographical stuff I want to include will be more suited to the final concept. Bizarrely, this had left me feeling encouraged, as I’m starting to see the beginning of an outline that might work, and that by writing more specifically to a theme instead of doing my usual stringing together of blogs that already exist

I was holed up in my office today while the Royal Wedding took place, knuckling down on material for this week’s work-in-progress dates. Despite starting the day a little panicked by it all, I managed to have quite a productive day, I managed to write a short piece that has the potential to completely alter the direction for the show as a whole, and while I certainly won’t have time to instigate this change in tact before this week’s gigs, it’s at least injected some much-needed energy into proceedings and made me feel a little better about the whole thing. As I’ve said a couple of times lately, the hardest aspect of it all is keeping motivated when I’m largely an operation of one. I’ve not been having the best time recently and could do with a confidence boost from an outside source, instead of always having to encourage myself. I have a few plans to combat this, plus I have my PR, so hopefully this will help; I’m bored of thinking about it, reall

One notable thing I took from watching Bill Bailey live in Stevenage last night was how he often uses music just because it's good without feeling the need to do anything comedic with it. I found this encouraging when considering how to approach this year's show. Perhaps the main reason I’ve used my musical ability so sparingly in comedy in the past was because I was trying to distance myself from the actor / muso rut I found myself in, plus I didn't want to force-write a load of funny songs. While I’ve written the odd comedy song in the past - the most prominent being Ukulele Girl that I co-wrote with Chris Hollis, which featured on Spandex Ballet’s album ‘Seriously, Don’t Release This’ and occasionally in Glyn’s and my live work - they were composed for my own amusement, with no intention to foist them on the outside world. When I used to do solo acoustic gigs - or even when I was in Big Day Out - it was always the banter that was fun

I long to establish a clear working structure to my day, so I can keep track of my achievements instead of feeling the goalposts are constantly moving, and avoid feeling chased, panicked or back-footed by the outside influences that inevitably get in my way. This is one of the downsides to self-employment, particularly when the majority of your work is self-generated; it's hard enough to give yourself time to prepare for an acting (or actor / muso) job for an outside company, let alone when you’re working for yourself. I have a musician friend for whom function gigs provide the majority of his income, yet his partner often forgets the gig is just a fraction of the job as he also needs to learn the music. While she understands this work needs to be done in principle, as far as she's concerned, if he’s at home then he’s available; consequently the majority of his preparatory time is spent doing odd-jobs around the house. I know the feeling, though for a completely differ

There’s something about the simplicity of this song that I can’t get enough of. Macca’s first solo album is famed for its primitive sound and production, which came about as a result of it being mostly recorded at home with a very basic set-up. There's an honesty and directness that's striking compared to the intricately produced Abbey Road (or the over-the-top Let it Be). While there are still big moments - Maybe I’m Amazed is the most obvious - it’s the intimacy that comes across the most, of the kind McCartney didn’t revisit so consistently until 1997’s Flaming Pie or 2005’s Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, a good twenty-seven / thirty-five years later. While Paul’s debut album got a tough press when it was released, which wasn't helped by the recent breakup of The Beatles and the subsequent sniping from John, George and Ringo, it’s a far more solid affair than you'd imagine when listened to in retrospect; yes, some of it'

Today’s my thirty-seventh birthday and I don't want to worry anyone, but to stay on track, I need to release my equivalent to Double Fantasy in three years' time. This is another way of saying, “If I want to achieve as much as John Lennon did in his lifetime within the same time-frame, I need to get it all in before I turn forty in 2021; I’m nothing if not ambitious. I didn’t sleep at all last night, which was nothing to do with my impending birthday, though as the hours crept by, I inevitably found myself pondering today’s milestone and what it means to me. It’s a strange one to reckon with as, while I’m under no illusion I’m old, the fact I’m edging dangerously close to the next biggie - my fortieth - is a concerning. The past decade has flown by in the blink of a crow’s-footed eye, so who’s to say the next ten years won’t too? Is my brain set to the wrong shutter-speed or did I black out for a while somewhere down the line? This morning I had an answerphone message f

Today I met my friend Stephen for a general catch-up, having not seen him for a few weeks. The big bit of news on my part was the whole situation with my dad, which was a heck of a lot to fill him in on. At least the upshot is positive at the moment, but I’d still been hesitant and not given Steve the full story via text up to this point, opting for the hastily abridged version instead; it just felt like too much stuff to get across. We’ve been fortunate in the sense we've managed to see each other a fair amount since he moved away from Herts in favour of Northamptonshire. I’m glad about this as he’s long been the friend I see most regularly and share detail of the ins and outs of my life to; he’s very much my sounding board and my unofficial, unpaid advisor, which is probably a bit of a poisoned chalice. One thing that’s getting me down of late is the fact I’ve gained a little weight, something I haven’t done to any extent before until