First Gig Worst Gig

Owen Roberts

Owen Roberts. Copyright: Ben Carpenter

This weekend in balmy - and briefly barmy - Hertfordshire it's the splendid Standon Calling festival, headlined by Roxy Music's Bryan Ferry and Hertford's own George Ezra and Skoda's Paloma Faith, plus a pretty rocking comedy line-up too, your Lucy Porter, your Seann Walsh, your Spencer Jones, and - in the family bit - your Horrible Histories.

Here at First Gig, Worst Gig, one name on that bill particularly piqued our interest. Owen Roberts is now branching out as a solo act, in Standon then at the Edinburgh Fringe, after five years as the beardy one in the fine sketch trio Beasts. Well, not entirely solo. He's had help.

"I thought it was finally time to fly the coup and do a show on my own, or at least sort of on my own," he says. "After about six months of writing absolute drivel it occurred to me that maybe I needed some help, so I decided to ask my housemate, who coincidentally is a six year-old child, if she'd write the show for me. She said yes, and now I've got to perform the weird rambling gibberish that she's come up with."

Fear not though, Beasts junkies: Roberts and co have just released the rather good short film Man Band, including a proper emosh music vid. Live, the boys are also doing a best-of show, at the Fringe then probably London too. And there, heat permitting, Roberts will presumably revert back to his trademark turtleneck, after a rather different outfit for his child-penned solo effort. "I'll be wearing a chicken suit. Homemade of course. I've spared no expense."

Let's head back to even sketchier times.

Owen Roberts. Copyright: Ben Carpenter

First gig?

My first gig was with Beasts, we were woefully unprepared, we just decided one year that we were going to be a sketch group, we had no prior experience, none of us had done any comedy before, we just jumped right in at the deep end and decided to do the Edinburgh Fringe.

It was a really steep learning curve, our first gig was to eight people in a working man's club in Bethnal Green. It did not go well.

Favourite show, ever?

When Beasts went to Bestival, we performed in this big outdoor amphitheatre, to a big crowd of people who were all absolutely off their faces. It was so much fun, the sun was shining, the audience were up for anything, and I genuinely felt like a rock star. It probably also helped that we were all a little bit inebriated ourselves.

Worst gig?

I mean there's been a few. When you're writing a new show you always have to test out new material, and there's always a few gigs where it absolutely bombs. But at least when you're part of a sketch group you can all go and get drunk and laugh about it.

When you're on your own, those gigs are so much more depressing. So I'd say my worst gig was probably my first solo gig, I was so nervous, I just kept clutching the microphone stand like it was the only thing holding me up.

A six year-old wrote your current show. What has that experience taught you about comedy?

She thinks everything she writes is absolutely solid gold. I mean it's not, a huge portion of her writing is the ramblings of an imbecile, but that confidence is really helpful. When she writes she writes with no filter. Literally the first thing that comes into her head, goes on the page, and she is utterly convinced that it's genius.

When I'm writing on my own, I can stare at a blank page for hours, not writing down a single word because I think it's all rubbish. It's reminded me that it's important not to overthink things, or you can kill an idea before it starts.

Who's the most disagreeable person you've come across in the business?

Naming no names, but there is a comedy promoter that I cannot stand, she is rude, grumpy, and as far as I can tell has absolutely no sense of humour.

I've heard her tell comedians they need to change their act, change their name, even change the way they dress. I remember one gig where she addressed the acts and told us that we should be bringing a suit to gigs. If I wanted to wear a suit to work, I think I'd be in a different career.

Beasts. Image shows from L to R: James McNicholas, Owen Roberts, Ciarán Dowd

Is there one routine/gag you loved, that audiences inexplicably didn't?

We had a sketch with Beasts called Germanic Park where we basically dressed in lederhosen and threw sausages and beer around the room whilst pretending to be massive German dinosaurs. I loved that sketch but I think it just confused audiences.

Which sketch group are Beasts most fiercely competitive with?

When we did our first Edinburgh Fringe we looked in the brochure and saw that there was another new sketch group doing their first year at the same venue as us. A couple of young toffs from Cambridge called The Pin. We instantly decided to hate them, they were going to be our arch nemeses.

However when we got to Edinburgh and met them, it turned out they were just really nice guys, and also very funny, so the rivalry stopped before it even started. There has since been talk of us combining to form a super group called The Wacky Gentlemen.

The most memorable review, heckle or post-gig reaction to your stuff?

After a Beasts show we had an audience member lodge a formal complaint that Ciaran's naked butt cheek had touched their face, when he was climbing through the audience in an arse-less leotard. We got a stern telling off from the venue, but you could tell they were trying not to laugh.

How do you feel about where your career is at, right now?

That's always a tricky question, I don't think anyone is ever 100% happy with where their career is, you could always have more work, more money, and there's always someone doing better than you. But I'm making stuff that I'm excited about, I'm gigging, I'm writing, and I'm having fun, and that's ultimately the best thing you can be doing as a comic.


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