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A pint and a hug, please

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Happy New Year! Oh, the ninth day of 2026 has just begun as I finally get round to writing something. So, circling back round to 22nd December 2025 as promised last post, I went over west to see Logan’s Close at The Hug and Pint in Glasgow for their usual Christmas gig. There were plenty of familiar faces in the bar by the time I arrived, grabbed a pint, a few hugs and headed downstairs to the venue where the crowd were enjoying the Raeburn Brothers, also over from Edinburgh (yes, I quite enjoyed them too). It turned out that one of them was on a double shift, as keyboard player (and occasional percussion!) for Logan’s Close. I wonder, did the guys get the gig then LC went oo, actually, while you’re there, could you, or did they get the gig with that already in mind? Anyhoo, a fine choice, the Raeburn Brothers had the crowd nicely warmed up for LC taking to the stage; I say stage, it wasn’t much higher, more a performance area.

The lads opened with a brand new song Crystal Ball, Scott and Stu looking sharp in suits, Carl had already lost his jacket (it was definitely going to get hot), Gavin was way back in the gloom (shame), while the keyboard guy took the prize for coolest shirt (sadly I didn’t get a pic of it). From there, straight into Babestation, the first of seven songs from Heart-Shaped Jacuzzi; newish songs Chillz and Costume Changes were there, both of which occasionally pop up in Scat Rats setlists, so well-known to some.

The brand new song I presumed to be called Giddy Up, Baby at Leith Arches was there and it is; a stark, sparse song, Scott put down his guitar, picked up his drink and donned a cowboy hat, plenty keyboards in the mix on this one (I have to say it was the LC sound is better with keyboards rather than Carl juggling between instruments). After some outstanding singing from the gathered, along to more Heart-Shaped Jacuzzi numbers (a grand sound!), we were treated to another brand new bouncing baby of a song, Not Love (the prospect of another album is starting to get exciting).

Carl, Scott and Stu in harmony

The guys didn’t bother to leave the stage between the “last” number and the first encore, which was, yay, Lonely This Christmas by Mud. This is one of my favourite christmas songs and have previously loved the Rats doing it, but the full LC treatment, and the crowd all singing, oh, my heartses! Only something big with grandiose could follow it, so that would be Mock Marble Linoleum then. Love that bass riff and Carl gets to have fun with his theremin to emblemish Scott’s tale of a sad loser. A class ending to the evening, well, mine. I know there were plans for where folk would continue drinking after the gig but I headed back to the subway into the centre, happily fuzzed up.

I had hoped to hear Lonely This Christmas once more by the Scat Rats the following evening in Stramash but, well, it was a solo Carl Marah instead! I’m saying nothing. Except that the crowd loved him, Carl was in fine voice (the overall sound was excellent, beautifully rich, well done, whoever was on the buttons). From where I was sitting, I could see a number of folk going over to check the poster of the month’s listing to see who he was. His penultimate song for the evening was the full version of American Pie, well, it’s been so long since I’ve heard it, I had to make that my final advent calendar clip.

It’s now very late, or early?! Time I toddled off to bed. I’ll share this on Instagram tomorrow along with videos of LC in action. I did put one up shortly after the gig but it seems the sound has gone, if it was ever there, I’m sure it was!

Goodnight, sweet dreams!

And the crowd went wild

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Oh boy, that was a great evening last night! I knew the early part would be good but expected to be home by ten-ish, ha. First port of call, Whistlebinkies to catch the first set from Jed Potts and Nicole Smit, mighty fine as usual. Just a shame that once again there were a couple of very loud folk spoiling the music, so good on Jed for his public service announcement that there were other areas of the bar for people who just wanted to natter. They didn’t bother to move but at least they quietened down. They did leave after the first set, but so did I, I had a ticket for Sneaky Pete’s.

The headline was Callum Ford but my ticket was primarily to see Carl Marah on second support. My timing was just nice to get down there, grab a pint and manoeuvre into a good spot (Sneaky’s was heaving, it wasn’t sold out it was very close to it!) Marah and moustache took to the stage (I mention his moustache because, it’s there, a double-taker on first meeting, I think it might be staying around awhile), no fancy looping this time, just straight forward man with a guitar.

What a cracking set! Opened with the wonderful Roll the Dice and ended with the awesome Cats Eyes. In-between, Carl gave Cold Cold Christmas one more play, the crowd joined in the dah-dah-dahs to Oban, while Stags and Hens somehow sounded better than ever (how is that even possible?). There was more, but I wasn’t taking notes, didn’t video much either, I just blissed out on the sound, especially Cats Eyes at the end, oh, my heartses.

To be honest I wasn’t sure earlier if I’d hang around for the headline band but being there, yeah, plus it was a fairly quick changeover. Callum Ford and his band were worth staying for, engaging and witty songs; with a fiddle-player and one song set in Captains Bar, definitely a folky leaning. The crowd had been lovely and enthusiastic with Mr Marah, now they were turned up to ten and buzzing. Oh my, when the band started the final song the place went wild, Fairytale of New York no better to end a gig at Christmas, the band and audience gave it everything.

Back out on the Cowgate just going home didn’t seem right, so I decided I’d pop back to Whistlebinkies for one more pint. The second band should gave been on at that point, nope, huh? Ah, they’d double booked themselves or something and Binkies took second place, who could they call on? Oh yay, the Louis Crosland Trio, how sweet could one evening get?! It may have been because Max, who occasionally plays drums with LC3 was working behind the bar so only two more bodies were needed.

The man himself, Louis Crosland turned up first, the room started to fill more as folk wanting some live music rolled in. A cheer like a mexican wave heralded the arrival of bassist Rob Henderson to the stage, no time to waste, the band cracked on and the crowd, yes, indeed, did go wild. Wow, I’ve seen LC3 plenty of times, that was one of the best, kind of like a giddy joie de vivre from unexpectedly playing; it definitely put Max in top spot of my favourite of the band’s various drummers. The evening really could not have ended any better, well, unless the final band had cancelled too and the Scat Rats were called in, oh yeah (hey, I can dream!)

I’ll be seeing the Rats tomorrow midnight, yes, it’s one of those Tuesdays, I can survive til then. It’ll be a very late night, so maybe having no definite plans for Hogmanay is a blessing, after all, I’ll want to be doing my usual scamper up to Arthur’s Seat bright and early New Year’s Day. I was up there on Christmas Day, I did mean to put something on here about it, just like I’ve been meaning to say how totally epic Logan’s Close were in Glasgow. I’ll circle back round to that next.

Toodle pip!

A wee catch-up

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It’s the Sunday evening before Christmas, thought I’d tap out a quick update before I head off to see Fackham Hall, and joys, the Louis Crosland Trio are playing Whistlebinkies at midnight (one can never too sure too soon). My Christmas week starts tonight!

A bit of a departure on my advent calendar today, I reposted a montage of ice creams from Thistle & Churn, well, the track with it was Ice Cream Man by Tom Waits, a classic in my book, and so are their ice creams. Oh, and I have three precious tubs from T&C in my freezer! Two of Caledonia Cream and one of Clootie Dumpling, they should see me into the new year, yeah, should.

It was my first time back in the reopened Filmhouse to see Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Mind, I’m still a little confused about the scene that was meant to explain what happened in the wood, nah, kept running it through my head. Help, someone. Even better for me was The Running Man, and I went in not sure about it, but yay, Edgar Wright wove his magic again. Had a wee inward cheer to myself, when I spotted Rich Hall in a brief scene, nice one.

On a much smaller screen, Carl Marah has a video on his YouTube channel to go with his latest song Cold Cold Christmas, do give it a watch. Mind, if you want to just listen to it, I wouldn’t bother asking your smart speaker! Certainly Alexa refuses to understand the name Carl Marah, stupid, stupid !!#*?!! I was round at a friend’s, it just confirmed to me why I’ll never bother getting one.

Tonight will be the second time this week seeing Louis Crosland as I caught the band in Stramash on Thursday evening, but it wasn’t a trio, oh no, added keyboards. I did wonder beforehand, but any doubts were quickly dispelled, a part of the puzzle that we hadn’t even realised was missing. A perfect fit for Louis’ sound, especially his own songs; usually it’s all covers but on Thursday we were treated to four new originals. Sadly, it was only for the one evening so far, but hopefully, he’ll be back, that’s Guilhem Forey.

Blimey Charlie, time I shifted! More very soon. Toodle pip!

Mr Marah Plus Two

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Wednesday evening in the Voodoo Rooms was awesome. There may have been fireworks going off outside for Bonfire Night, but inside the atmosphere was sparkling and crackling with fine vibes. Local musician Jack Hinks was support for the evening, some rather lovely tunes there, and a gorgeous voice, rich but not too much (I know what I mean). Tone for the evening nicely set, drink in hand from the bar, good position to see, ready!

Of course, this was the first gig where Carl Marah has played his solo music with a band, which added to the anticipation, not just one man and an acoustic guitar anymore. On drums was Gavin Lamont, like who else was it gonna be? As lovely as he is talented, no 5/4 timings could throw this chap. On bass and occasional backing vocals was one Simon Toner; he and Gavin are in a band Sekoya with Luke Cunningham, who played keyboards with The Buccaneers (oo, how good to have the three of them with Carl some time? make that happen!). A very promising line-up, and how!

It was a gentle start with You’re Always Right and how right was the sound – just perfect. On to Lost and Found, gorgeous but I did find myself contemplating whether, lovely as the band version was, the acoustic solo version had something extra for being less for me. World Keeps Turning next is a tune that’s already one of my accidental hums (oh, I can hum unaware that I’m humming for ages), a cracking song, definitely up a notch with the extra punctuation from the drums.

The setlist was thirteen songs in total, all known to the faithful to some degree. James Gilhooly, the go-to cameraman, was around filming the proceedings. At the start of Long Way To Oban I noticed the array of drumsticks Gavin had to hand, but then I guess that’s how he always gets just the right sound; Holidays with the brush sticks was luscious. The poignant 39 was sooo beautiful, a moment to reflect.

Song of the night for me has to be Cat’s Eyes, oh my heartses. I’d just popped to the loo and came back out into the little hidden area to the side of the stage, it seemed a perfectly good spot to watch the band as the music drove along, taking corners, foot down on the straights. Oh, I’m already there, Cat’s Eyes on the stereo driving along the A702 in the dark, can’t wait! Only Don’t Wanna Love You No More could have followed that, yay, Carl getting down and bluesy, always fine with me!

As it’s the latest single Roll the Dice finished the evening. Yeah, right. Encore! One more song! Hmmm, something that really would really show the whole band off, something by one of Carl’s favourite artists? Paul Simon? 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover, yay, what a way to end, excellent choice. What an evening, I’m looking forward to next time already, hopefully it won’t be too long. Meanwhile, Mr Marah can be seen in the pubs of Edinburgh singing to the stags and hens and mooses.

Such a great gig really deserved better pics for my blog than I could manage with my mobile – many thanks to @hateinacageonfilm for letting me use some of his photos, what a guy!

Carl Marah looking suave with his Movember tache
Gavin Lamont
Simon Toner

From the sublime to the ridiculous

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I’ve been under the weather somewhat since the end of Fringe. First my throat, then after what seemed like a full recovery, bam, my sinuses mutinied, usually the two run alongside a wee while before passing the baton. Not this time, just far enough apart for some false hope, but also a chance to the Scat Rats on Wednesday midnight at Whistlebinkies; by seven the following evening I was in no fit state to see the Rats again in Stramash, boo. At least I had the immense pleasure of a spur of the moment rendition of Fantastic Man (a song by William Onyeabor that Logan’s Close made a cover video of during one of the lockdowns), I do hope they play it again sometime.

The last couple of days Facebook memories have reminded me that it’s the time when I’ve previously announced the Brucies. What’s the Brucies? They’re the Bruce on the Fringe Fringe Awards, I was inspired after attending the ACMS Awards in 2022 (a silly, nonsensical, absurd event hosted by the Tuck); so just a light-hearted look back at my Fringe (it didn’t happen last year, those reading my blog at the time know why). And so without further ado…

Mesdames et monsieurs, ceux entre et ceux au-delà, bienvenue! The awards that nobody asked for, and mean absolutely nothing to anyone (except the little mooselets in my head), I give you the Bruce on the Fringe Fringe Awards 2025. Ta-dar!!

The Sublime: The Other Mozart

Most August: Thom Tuck

Best Veg-Rom-Dram: Tale of a Potato

Best Supporting Sidekick: Swimothy

Best Evening in an Afternoon: An Evening with Dame Granny Smith

Best Badge: Will & Noah: Too Much Time on Their Phones

Most Suave and he knows it: Troy Hawke

Best Musical Moments (all the nominations and the winner): Rob Kemp (Beatlesjuice and The Elvis Dead)

Best Use of a Building Since it was Public Swimming Baths: Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine

The Inevitable Award: Bad Clowns: Long Live the King

The Gromit Trophy: Iago in Iago Speaks up until Iago spoke

Oddest thing on the Cowgate: The Mothman Cometh-ing towards me

The Stuff of Nightmares: Aidan Pittman dressed as The Childcatcher

The Ridiculous: God’s Longest

And there you go, from the sublime, through to the ridiculous.

Toodle pip!

A dame and a clown

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The line of giant posters down the side of the Pleasance was taken down today, there’s still a few boards fastened around streetlights and traffic signs, not noticeable unless you look directly at one. Instagram posts have shown Fringe folk leaving Edinburgh, returning home. Was it a farewell hug that left me with a sneaky little present? … my throat has been threatening me for the last three days, it may be winning. It really started niggling late Tuesday night but I wasn’t going to not see The Scat Rats at Binkies at midnight, a nice final bookend to my Fringe. Hell, I hadn’t seen them all August! It was right at the start of the Fringe when I saw them in Stramash (hence bookends).

My Fringe proper finished with two class acts, that wonderful class antipodean Dame Granny Smith followed by Mr Tuck’s sublime Scaramouche Jones. Hahaha, can’t believe I didn’t spot that before, Smith and Jones, in the same afternoon (certain age groups will put Alas and Alias before those two names to make a couple of great tv series from once upon a time). Both shows had full audiences, marvellous, fringing to the very end.

An Evening with Dame Granny Smith was so so lovely and bittersweet, almost nostalgic for something past. And David Salter, such a lovely, talented guy, a saint for putting up with her! Mind, it’s easy to get swept up in the Dame’s aura, the afternoon’s participating audience member really got into the role and I think went over and beyond what Salter was expecting (from his reaction, anyway). I’m very glad I caught the show, that early afternoon time had a lot going on that I fancied this year, too many annoying five, ten minute overlaps (oh, to have Hermione’s watch).

I managed to grab a quick pic with the Dame, before heading over to the Big Yurt (I’m not sure if she was all agog to meet me or silently screaming in fear of being eaten)

As I walked through the Potterow Underpass I heard a hearty laugh ahead, oh yay! I’d know that laugh anywhere, Will Seaward was in the queue for Scaramouche Jones; how marvellous to bump into him again! (Had to get a pic, of course) The old clown himself, Scaramouche Jones, was mingling wordlessly with the milling crowd (I fancied to ask for a quick photo with him, but time was short, and I felt a tad unworthy).

Oh, Scaramouche Jones is a most marvellous tale. Thom Tuck holds the audience in the palm of his hand, entranced, as he recounts Scaramouche’s one hundred years. Truly it could have been written for him, Tuck is so brilliant in the part, and I say this having seen him play it ten years ago, a performance that has stuck in my mind since (I look forward to seeing it again in 2035). It would be a marvellous thing if one performance had been filmed each decade passed, how wonderful to see the progression 💛

I also paid another visit to the final performance of Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine at Dovecot Studios on the Sunday afternoon. Now I could be wrong but I think one of the guys from Crybabies was in the audience; such a shame they couldn’t make it up with their new production. This time round I saw the overall arc better over the sketches; I must say, those two have amazing voice control for the length of their woahs between bits (that probably reads really weird, but if you ever get to see Finlay and Joe: Pretend It’s Fine you’ll know what I mean). Sometimes shows can seem to overally point out their own cleverness, Finlay and Joe don’t do that, the funny flows naturally and abundantly with these two – and they were lovely when I asked for a photo with them!

While I’m on a roll here (the Chilean Gewürztraminer I opened is helping somewhat!) I’ll mention The Mothman Cometh, that I saw in the final week. It was amongst my cuttings and then I noticed him on a few occasions flitting madly around the Cowgate early evening, odd and kinda sweet, and occasionally on the Half Price Hut list. I hadn’t been in The Subway in donkeys (for many years), some bits were very familiar, like the stage area (back last century it was a place to go after an evening shift in Pizza Hut, with tips enough for a couple of drinks).

I’d vaguely heard of the Mothman myth, and my sightings of this strange creature, well, I had to go find out more. It was very dark in there! A lot of the time we could just see two red circles and hear his voice, only a mere hint of his body shape in the misty darkness. He was troubled by odd glitches when pop songs would burst out of him, and a strange Void was always close by, but despite these troubles the Mothman was actually a benign, humorous creature that just wanted friends that understood him. Oh, that sounds a tad maundling, The Mothman Cometh was very funny with plenty of audience participation, you just had to be willing to embrace the surreality.

It’s very late, again! Edinburgh Farmers Market in the morning, I must to sleep. Next time I’ll wrap up this year’s Fringe, oo, maybe even some awards! It will be my 499th blog post, who’d have thunk it!

Sweet dreams, toodle pip, mes amis!

Watching the sun go down on another Fringe

Can’t believe it’s that time already

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The end is nigh! Well, another twenty four hours of fizzle out. Tonight I’m off to the final ACMS though whether I’ll last until the end is debatable. I’m kinda shattered, physically and spiritually, and I haven’t written anything since Thursday.

Oh, The Elvis Dead was bloody brilliant! Plenty turned out to see it (pretty please, can we have a performance every Fringe?) and had a whale of a time. Kemp’s voice is much more suited to singing like Elvis than the Fab Four.

And I caught the final Beatlesjuice last night, so glad I bought a ticket in advance (it was a PWYC) the room was packed out (I spotted John-Luke Roberts was there). Rob Kemp‘s lyrics are so good and it’s as funny whether there’s a lamer line to fit in or an absolute gem. I look forward to how Beatlesjuice will look next year, but I’ve loved seeing these early ramshackle performances, what utter pleasure!! 💛

I’d just seen John-Luke Roberts: WIP that morning in the Monkey Barrel, another very busy show; really the man is so naturally hilarious, no one who’s seen him before would be put off by those initials W.I.P. it’s all a joy. No doubt he’ll show up at some point this evening at the ACMS.

Oo, maybe John Robertson will make an appearance tonight too! I saw him yesterday too, Playing with the Audience in the Counting House, manically gleeful as ever. It seems like having reached another of life’s milestones, he’s determined to show that he can still throw his body about and do dumb things – like climbing up onto narrow ledges, high ledges, next year it’ll be one of the chandeliers!! The picture – I know I’ve remarked how some Fringe stages are too low for anyone past the first couple of rows, but that’s a bit ridiculous!

Spot my little joke here? That’s what I thought it said on glancing through the Fringe programme without my reading glasses on! Couldn’t resist! An excellent show, Alex Berr was very engaging as she told us how she came to work in science and with mice in order to cure cancer, only to find out later her mother had the same cancer that she’d been working on. Berr balanced sombre subjects with great humour, kinda matter-of-fact but with a quirkiness.

Oops, must dash. Toodle pip!

As promised last time, and more

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Heading towards Bristo Square, I overheard two older gents behind me discussing where to go for a drink, Bristo Square?Too noisy and plastic. Teviot Row and the Library Bar? Much nicer. I did briefly consider not saying anything, no, no, come on now; so I turned round and mentioned it was closed for renovation, they thanked me and headed elsewhere to find a pint in a glass. Ah, good deed done for the day!

I was actually going to the Mosque Kitchen for a chicken bhuna and rice (rather nice!), then across to the Counting House for Stand-up Philosophy with the most genial of hosts Alex Farrow with guest stand-ups Omar Badawy and Daman Bamrah. An entertaining and interestingly informative hour.

I had already seen Alex Farrow: New Order and, as usual, thoroughly enjoyed myself (Stand-up Philosophy is like a diluted version of Farrow’s own show), as we were treated to a flowing stream of philosophical thoughts with babbles of hilarity. There’s always some cracking anecdote from Farrow’s teaching days, this one’s a real doozy! His broken vacuum cleaner story had me nodding in recognition, he is one of us. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½

How happy was I to see Rob Kemp was back with a new show, Beatlesjuice? And how happy am I that he’s putting on a one-off performance of the Elvis Dead this afternoon at four thirty? Very, very happy! But Beatlesjuice, oh my heartses, it’s soooo good! Now I should clarify, this is very much a WIP (Work In Progress) but I loved it with all it’s flaws (I actually saw it last week when Kemp was still figuring a lot out, I expect by now it’s a lot smoother, but more fun? nah).

If you’ve seen The Elvis Dead, it’s a similar premis with Beetlejuice retold through Beatles music with Kemp’s lyrics and onscreen moments from the film. Kemp’s lyrics are so bang on, you’re laughing at the humour and marvelling at his genius wit at the same time. Yes, it has a way to go, but it was perfectly imperfect! Beatlesjuice had my face grinning and my soul singing ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Just time to mention another show, saw it last night, another bullseye for my Fringe-dar. Iago Speaks is Shakespeare Meets Meta. It has the wordplay of a Shakespeare play, wonderful comic acting and a tricksy meta-ness that kept me enthralled. The Jailer was a wonderful character, yin to Iago’s yang, and he does talk an awful lot, well, the play does start after Iago swore he’d never speak again, but like Gromit he doesn’t need words for us to know he’s thinking. Oh, Iago does eventually speak but definitely with a forked tongue. I knew how it would end, yes, the end and then the very end, but the journey there was amazing theatre ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Time for a spot of lunch, methinks. Should I cook or go out?

Toodle-oo for now!

Puffins, potatoes and a fish called Swimothy

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When I saw the puffin on the poster I knew I’d go see Stuart Laws Is Stuck, yes, I’m a sucker for a puffin, and a comedy/murder/mystery with a puffin? I immediately thought, the puffin did it, why? Did you see Dr Dolittle Kills a Man last year? The puffin turned out to be the big bad, so this time round I’d be ready.

Our guy is the only human on an island inhabited by 1004 puffins, he took the job of caretaker after a bad break-up; but one of the puffins is missing, Titus. Oh yeah, they all have names, and he can talk to them, and they talk back (Kate Hammer is hilarious as puffins Milo, Angie and D’Angelo). Missing becomes possibly murdered as Stuart investigates and soon things start to unravel…. And if you’re not 100% paying attention you may get lost in it all!

The show swaps between the story on Puffin Island and stand-up in the Fringe Venue; there are prompts to know the swaps, not always obvious to folk sat further back (another time when a slightly higher stage would help!) As the puffin mystery is being solved we start to become aware that there’s something else behind it all, the clues are in the stand-up. Oh, there’s more levels here than first meet the eye, all well constructed and well written, and Laws and Hammer are great together. If you do see this, don’t just put aside the cards on some seats, it’s excellent artwork depicting the characters, Milo is adorable! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

From puffins to potatoes, Batisfera are back with another short play Tale of a Potato to enchant, bemuse and leave us mulling over our own human nature. The stage is a square wooden table with just one light, Valentina Fadda presides over all as narrator, voices, puppeteer and knife-wielder (some of those veg are trouble!), oh, and bringer of sight (nails for eyes! ironic for a potato). She had the audience spell-bound as she told the story of a potato called Protagonist.

We follow Protagonist’s through his life, loves, trials and tribulations, and by god, we feel for that little fellow before the end. There’s a supporting cast of a variety of vegetables, including an antagonistic aubergine. The show may only be half an hour long but there’s a lot packed in there; Fadda’s voice and this little table-top world, take us through a gamut of emotions. It’s profound and whimsical and will dwell with you long after ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½

Batisfera are also performing The Gummy Bears’ Great War again – and you thought vegetables were small to perform with! I loved it, but be warned, if you felt for Protagonist, those little bears may leave you floored.

Time for one more before I head out to Binkies for some late night sounds. A fish called Swimothy, no, it’s not called that, mind his role has gotten rather bigger than it was in Moon Team IIIV at the start of the Edinburgh Fringe in 2024, he even has a song this year (I’m pretty certain that wasn’t there last time!?). Will BF has said that this is a fully finished copy, hmmm, we’ll see. Moon Team IIIV has been tweaked, rejigged, upgraded, but it’s still as silly and bonkers as it was, still with the talking head mockumentary parts intertwining with the action on stage. Will Will ever truly settle on a completed version? Will Swimothy become tyrannical and take over the whole film? It’s funny, it’s highly entertaining and totally Fringe ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½

Next time, a little philosophy and a guy into a black and white striped suit. Toodle pip!

Third week already!?

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It’s the start of the third week, the final Monday for some, as the majority of shows will finish sometime this weekend with only a few going through to the bitter end that is the English bank holiday Monday. I have one show definitely lined up for it (if you’ve been paying attention you’ll know the one) and that might actually be it for the last day. The day after the end Thom Tuck has proposed an unrehearsed read-through of the second half of The Princess Bride (it was started the end of last year’s Fringe and halfway was as far as it got). The first half was an hilarious hotch-potch, so I may well meander along (the triangle bit of seating across from the Pleasance Dome).

If you’re thinking I haven’t been mentioning many shows recently, sorry, my bad, it’s a strange balancing act, enjoying time Fringing and making time to write about it, the last couple of years seem to have dunted my Fringe focus and stamina, or maybe I’m just getting old and jaded, haha. I’ve also been slightly overwhelmed by emails popping up from Fringe shows inviting me along to review them, like, huh? It is flattering to be asked, but as I keep reiterating, I’m not a professional reviewer, I’d hate for someone to expect a fancy highfalutin review and then read my musings. Of course, that would kind of point out that they’d not actually read my blog, haha.

As I received more emails, I realised that there’s a good chance that it’s a standard invite with my name at the top (well, that would explain some stuff), phew, relief. A friend told me that those emails aren’t particularly expecting replies unless it’s yes, please. So I’m very sorry to anyone who has taken the time to email me, but hasn’t heard back, yet. And who’s to say my musings would have put any more bums on seats, anyway?

I had to go out at that time. Carl Marah was playing at the St James Quarter Sessions, excellent as usual. An intimate setting in the top foyer/bar area with a small but very attentive audience. Now it’s time for the Moanin’ Bones at Stramash followed by Carl (again!) at the Cow Shed. A rather fine evening there!

Toodle-oo!