
This weekend the country gathers together to celebrate a Royal Wedding, but while your Grandma gets smashed on Pimms under the bunting, all the real people will be flocking to Camden on the 30th May to watch The Comedy Crawl. We’ve managed to wangle our way on to the press list for the festival, so we’ll be spending the weekend sashaying from venue to venue, pint in one hand, pen in the other, to bring you highlights from some of the world’s top comedians.
Until then, we’ve been hassling some of our favourite comics until they agreed to let us interview them for the site. First up is Canadian funny man, Phil Nichol, 2006 winner of the If.com Eddie award, respected theatrical actor and former member of musical comedy trio, Corky And The Juice Pigs. I managed to catch Phil on the phone a few weeks ago (after he’d just suffered the indignity of a bank cashier queue), and gently quizzed him.
So are you excited about the upcoming comedy crawl?
Yes, I’m very excited. The Camden Crawl is going to be phenomenal. Amazing. Especially the comedy portion of it. Particularly the fat old Tuesday Rope, or whatever it’s called.
What’s the deal with that – do you get enough time to check out the other acts, or is it in and out for you?
Well, I’ve never done the crawl before, so I don’t know what to expect. I’m assuming that what will happen is I’ll have booked myself into lots of little slots here and there. One of things I’m looking forward to is going to check out the music and just sort of spend the day. . . You know it’s sort of like a beautiful in city festival, and I’m a big festival goer. One of my passions is discovering new music, and seeing and catching things before other people latch on to them, so it’s a great opportunity for both comedy fans and music fans who want to do that to just go sample little bits and pieces of everything. I mean, the comedy line up I’ve seen is phenomenal, so if you want to go see some people you know and love, they’re on, but also there’s these little surprises all through the day because most people who are on the line up are actually exceptional
Are there any bands you’re planning to see while you’re there?
I thought what I would do is I would go into it the way I go into most festivals, which is knowing as little about it as possible and being pleasantly surprised by what’s on. One of my favourite things to do is to open the pamphlet, put my finger down, and go and see whatever my finger lands on. And of course the atmosphere in Camden is going to be electric – it’s always had a sense of group cool to it. Even if you spent the whole weekend sitting on a beer patio, sucking back beers and having conversations with strangers, that would still be a great day. If the weather stays the way it is now, it’s going to be awesome. But then, sometimes for comedy, it’s better when it rains because people go inside, so sunshine can be a mixed blessing.
Comedy has exploded in the UK in the last few years, with loads of new acts coming up the ranks. How do you feel about certain comics who seem to be using the stand up circuit to secure a cushy presenting job on TV?
I have no problem with them whatsoever.
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I don’t comment on other people’s success, I celebrate what my friends do, and when they get nice cushy jobs. I mean, tv presenting is a lovely job – it’s not stand up comedy – and I’m assuming that – well, I don’t know who you’re talking about exactly – but the people who I know that get those jobs will continue to do stand up just because once you’ve got the stand up bug, it’s really hard to give it up. Even now, this year, you’re finding older comics like Phil Jupitus going back to the stand up circuit and folks like Stewart Lee who have never left it, who were all valid comedians in their day, and I think still have a lot to say and the skill to say it.
I’m actually quite glad I got a positive response to that question.
Really? I just think it’s funny – I’ve been in comedy for a long time and I’m not a purist. I think it’s very easy for a young comic to be idealistic. It’s almost like a bit of comedy dogma, I think, to be against certain things and to be for hating hack comics, and hating Jongleurs. It just seems like a) a waste of energy – you’re not going to do anything about it, it’s not going to go away and b) so what? If you want to be a political cutting edge stand up comic that nobody’s heard of, you can do that too. That’s quite a common road for a lot of people, when they’re young, and then they get into their 30s and 40s and realise “oh, maybe I was being a little idealistic about whether other people care about what I do”
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It’s the difference between being a metal artist and a pop artist. I don’t think either care about the other one. Just do what you do and enjoy it, and the crowd will come to you.
Music plays quite a big part in your act. What do you think about the new wave of comedians, like Flight Of The Conchords, that have clearly followed in Corky and The Juice Pigs footsteps?
I love the Flight Of The Conchords! They’re friends of mine, I was very pleased with not just the two of them, but Rhys Darby and the radio series. I mean they had Daniel Kitson on the radio series, and people kind of forget that. They had a cutting edge crew. I’ve been to New Zealand, and I love the comedy scene there. I’m really, really proud of anyone from New Zealand who can make a break, nevermind international success. Not to mention that the Conchords are really nice people.
I like musical comedy to an extent, when people are writing original songs – again I’m not a purist, so a comedian can stick their nose up and say “anyone can play a guitar”, but that’s not actually true or else everyone would be playing the guitar. You have to give them some credit. Like any craft, if you look at the best of it, which in my mind would be Bill Bailey, or possibly Tim Minchin at the moment (I imagine it’s only a matter of time before we see Tim at the Oscars ceremony) – that’s what musical comedy at its best can be, but at its worst it can be somebody just changing the words around in a song. But if that makes an audience giggle on the night, then no one’s hurting anybody.
I used to be more critical when I was younger, then I just realised I’d rather be a comedian than a critic. Leave that to the critics, I’ll get on with being funny
After the absolute farce that was Sachsgate, Russel Brand and Jonathan Ross seem to have created an environment in the UK where comedy is scrutinised very closely. Has this had an effect on the way you edit your material?
Not me personally, because no one knows who I am. The funny thing is, you have to go really far to get a headline like that, or be a really well-known comedian to get that sort of attention. I think comedy is very dependent on taste, it’s subjective, it’s impossible to judge whether someone’s really kidding or not. Afterwards, if they say they’re kidding, you have to take it at face value. I mean some comedians, if they say that they meant it as a joke, you have to accept it that way. I know it’s an easy get out, but in most cases it’s true. We’re there as the last stand for any sort of dissent in a country which seems to be turning into a voluntary police state, where people are all afraid to say things and point the finger at each other, and look over their back yard fences at each other. Comedians seem to be the one group of people who talk about these strange things – because we SHOULD be laughing at them. If we suppress them, they come out as a repressed response which is usually criminal or at the least immoral. I think comedy is very positive, the more black and dark it is, I personally think, the better it is: the better for the psyche of the general public that’s taking it in. Even if they’re immediate reaction is “I hate that”, it’s doing them some good.
If they’re feeling something, at least they’re feeling.
Well, it means they’re discussing it. Frankie Boyle, I guess, would be the man of the moment. He’s taken and rationalised his jokes as to what he meant by them after the fact: what he meant by them, was to be funny, first and foremost, and frankly, the people who were hurt by them should be the only people who were offended by them, not anyone else who’s taken offence on their behalf. That’s just heading towards fascism.
Do you find it easier to win an audience over with controversial subject matters if you pitch it to them in song form?
No, absolutely not. It’s easier to win an audience over with really straightforward observational comedy about things that happen to them, like having your bike stolen, or losing your credit card and spinning out a funny routine about it, because that’s what most people relate to from 16 to 60 years old. Controversial material either takes an audience of people who already know who you are, so it’s not that controversial for them, or people who already agree with what you think, so it’s not controversial to them in the least. If something is controversial to people, then you have to be quite a wily comic to pull it off and/or be doing your own show in a venue where there’s nothing on before you or after you to make it understood.
You won the If.com Eddie award in 2006. What kind of effect does that have on a person’s career?
Well, I can only speak from personal experience. If you look through the list of Perrier award winners, where every single one of them has gone on to larger success… Even some of the nominees have. I won the If.com comedy award and I tend to think I’m the George Lazemby of comedy award winners. I’m like the James Bond that no one will remember. It was a great thing to be recognised, finally, for the amount of work I’ve done in my career, and for that specifically I was very proud of it. I don’t know if it’s really changed my career, but then I wouldn’t know. I’m doing the things I want to do, but then I was doing the things I wanted to do at the time, anyway. Maybe it’s provided a way for other people to promote my shows, and that’s good. Any kind of attention helps, doesn’t it? Because of the style of my show I don’t really get a lot of corporate, and I don’t really do TV or advertising (not for ethical reasons, just for professional ones).
I’ve started a theatre company that’s in its sixth year and I’m producing more shows and original plays, I’m writing the best stand up I can write, including 3 live shows since the award which have picked up critical acclaim, I’ve travelled the world and I live in a nice part of London surrounded by a great group of friends. Everything seems to be going quite well.
The first few years afterwards, it seemed like I expected more, but at the same time the comedy world has changed here a lot. Someone pointed out to me that it took Johnny Vegas almost 5 years to become established after he’d won his award.
Well, George Lazemby is now regarded by most film critics as one of the most accomplished Bonds, so there’s still time.
Well that’s why I used the example. Awards to me are silly, because I saw my friends doing better shows, and they didn’t get nominated or even looked at, and they might have gone home feeling they were unsuccessful. I don’t think it’s great to separate and to say that one’s better than the other. If you understand that it’s just someone’s opinion, then it’s nice that their opinion was that they liked me.
What’s the worst experience you’ve ever had on stage?
Well, there’s been loads of bad shows, and they still happen regularly. The most recent was doing a BBC comedy live show in front of a group of Nathan Barley’s – all these london hipsters who think they understand comedy inside and out even though they’ve only been to a handful of comedy shows. Most of them were probably desperately trying to get in to television and radio, and for some reason I jarred with them because my show tends to play to more of a club type crowd, and they were there to be seen to be cool, and not to enjoy the comedy. They just sat there like a group of X Factor judges, and when I told them they were being ridiculous, they all got the huff. It ended with me asking them to heckle – they couldn’t even be bothered to do that, they were so lazy. That for me was probably the worst experience, not because my feelings were hurt, but because I lost my temper and became infuriated at how preposterous they were all being, with their funky haircuts and their stupid glasses. The audience didn’t understand why the comedians weren’t having a good time, and it’s really simple. There’s an unwritten contract between audience and comedian: the more you laugh, the funnier the comedian feels, the funnier he’ll be, the more you laugh and the cycle continues. I guess I was also upset, because those people in the audience are likely to be the driving force in the next generation of TV and radio. I’d much rather being doing a gig in the heart of Essex, from people who’ve spent their day painting houses, or something, who really need a laugh, and get a good response, than play to a crowd of Hoxtonites.
Any plans for Edinburgh this year?
Yes. I’m doing my solo show, The Simple Hour, that’s on at The Stand at 8.50 every night. It’s my 13th solo show, and the first time I’ve written an hour of stand up. I usually do monologues, or character pieces, but this time I’ve stripped it right down to the type of material I do in clubs.
At noon every day I’m doing a theatrical monologue with Dave Florez – Somewhere Beneath It All, A Small Fire Burns Still. It’s a pretty twisted and funny, darkly sad piece. The Comedians Theatre Company is producing that, as well as another new piece of work – Cul De Sac – in association with The Pleasance and producer Richard Butler, which was developed through our, Itch: A Scratch program, and written by comedian Matthew Osborn.
We’re also hoping to put on a production of Ken Campbell‘s translation of the German play School For Clowns, but that’s not been confirmed yet. We’re also going to be putting on our Itch show with a number of comedians, including Jack Whitehall, Jo Caulfield and Hattie Hayridge to name but a few, which has got quite an exciting group of people.
We’re also taking our weekly new material show, Old Rope, which is run from the Phoenix Bar in Cavendish Square, London, up to Edinburgh. I run it alongside Tiffany Stevenson and it’s our way of facilitating comedians looking for a platform to try out new stuff. Hopefully, we’ll be doing it every night in The Gilded Balloon, as we have for the last three years.
Any tips for the Comedy Crawl?
Take a chance. Go see something you don’t know.

You can see Phil on Saturday at The Comedy Crawl, closing Fat Tuesday and Old Rope at Belushi’s. Tickets are £20 for one day, or £35 for the whole weekend.
Alternatively, you can catch Phil Nichol’s and Tiffany Stevenson’s new material night, Old Rope, at The Phoenix (Cavendish Square) every Monday night.