Fringe Day 8 – Full Room, Changing Perspectives

Last night was another full room. Oasis were blasting somewhere across the city, and still people turned up — which says a lot. But it was another weird one. Flat. The kind of crowd that makes you feel like you’re pulling teeth for every laugh.

Grant Barr opening the Show

I’ve been starting to really see the financial benefit of all this — what I’ve built — and I’m trying to take it in. If only I’d been this organised 16 years ago, I’d have been laughing all the way to the bank a long time back. But better late than never. The Comedy Cellar has such a reputation now that sometimes I worry I don’t have what it takes to keep up with it.

As always, there were a few cheap ones who tried to dodge the bucket — slipping out before I came back on to close the show. And then there are the other kind: the ones who stay, ruin the show, and still try to short-change you. Like the other night — The mental health nurse and her “patients” killed the atmosphere for everyone, then had the cheek to try and drop £2.50 in the bucket. Terrible.

Last night’s highlight in bucket psychology was the girl who tried to give me £3. I told her to keep it — not because I’m minted, but because I’m not walking home with a pocket full of shrapnel. Of course She got offended, its 2025. we had words, and she ended up giving me £10. Confidence pays. That’s the game. That’s what gets you five-star reviews.

This year, I’ve been actively avoiding all the usual hangout spots — the “get drunk here, get drunk there” Fringe circuit. It’s not about getting drunk for me anymore. It’s about the Cellar. It’s about what I’ve built, and what I’ve poured my blood, sweat and tears into. If you want me, you’ll find me at the Canon’s Gait having a quiet pint after the gig. I’ve no patience left for all the chasing fame nonsense. I just want to get on with business.

That’s what this year’s about — building something so solid you never have to do it again. And so far, that method’s been working. I think back to the medal, the cross my girlfriend found on the street. I know it’s relevant. It’s going to play a part in my show tonight as the ending. Because everything happens for a reason. We’re all supposed to be where we are at a certain time in life. I think I’m exactly where I’m meant to be right now. I just need to adjust a few things, and cherish it for what it is.

I’ve also really been struggling with my voice. That’s been putting me off. When my voice is fine, it’s assertive, warm, friendly, but also very cheeky — Right now, though, it’s so rough and sharp that I think it intimidates people. I can't pull off my personality properly. I’m doing my solo tonight — I can only do it once a week — so I’m hoping to have fun with it. I’ve planned a wee bit of crowd work and some solid jokes, hoping they’re livelier than last night— not that they were bad, but they weren’t exactly a the comedy audience we'reused too at the Cellar. Mostly a load of Finland guys in the front row, in Edinburgh a day early for Oasis.

My granny passed away last year, and it’s given me a lot of perspective. Comedy has been the path that led me to where I am now, but it wasn’t the ultimate focus — it was just the road I travelled to get here. And I think that’s what she meant when she told me to keep going, to put my heart and soul into it.

But anyway — enough of the sentimental shit. See you tonight. RSVP below, and let’s have some craic. Fringe Day 9 incoming.

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