In the final live Collings & Herrin Podcast from the GRV in Edinburgh, we go out in a significant lack of style. We should have ended it after 130, but no, it was almost as if we were committed to do 131, and treated it as just that: an obligation, with no joy or narrative denouement whatsoever, despite a big pile of prizes for the nicest audience members, including a Millie’s Cookies loyalty card, an Apostrophe (whatever that is) loyalty card, a McDonald’s loyalty card and a Piemaker loyalty card, as well as some Space Dust Which Isn’t Space Dust. Andrew gets booed again for mentioning the name of M*ddy – par for the course, now – Richard is sexually frustrated by the lack of women in the front row and is forced instead to imagine having a strawberry tattooed in a private place and smearing it with clotted cream, and we unearth a single X-Factor fan in our audience, and four Top Gear fans, one of whom is female. It’s either the best one yet, or the worst, and certainly our last for a long, long while. So tuck in.
Family entertainment is the order of the day for C&H Podcast 130 [wait for it, wait for it], live from the GRV in Edinburgh, where David Milliband’s banana is gazed upon with wonder and confusion. Richard Herrin was eclipsed by the much nice Richard Herring, who was not only nice to the entire tattooed family in the front row [see pic below], he offered his own hand in marriage to their mum, Corinda, so that he could be a thoughtful stepfather to her children, especially her son’s girlfriend. Meanwhile, Andrew accidentally says the rudest thing, and is booed once again under false pretenses. (“Please make the pain stop.”) There is a scientific biscuit survey, an impression of a giant reading a tiny newspaper, and an impromptu version of Mr & Mrs, sponsored by Bose/Boze. It’s almost suitable for the afternoon. [see also: Michael Legge’s lovelies Nicola Woolhouse and H20Sarah in bottom pic.]
A mood of niceness prevails over Podcast 129, seventh out of ten live shows at the Edinburgh Fringe, except for the bits about golden showers, which means “playful” Richard is full of compliments to at least one couple in the front row, gives another couple a relatively light grilling – mainly because one of them is carrying a big stick – and actually admits to Andrew that his solo show is “quite good.” We have harmless family fun with the Wankdorf stadium in Bern, Switzerland; Posh and Becks Beckham and their drive to appear more sympathetic to people who are out of work in the recession; Alex Jones’ magic pants; Kings Of Leon’s pigeonshit nightmare; and the increasingly fishy giant rat scam in Bradford. Also, why a man at the Daily Mail wants to kill his own pet. They hate animals, don’t they?
With podcast 128, recorded live at the GRV in Edinburgh in front of a mute and frightened audience, we attempt to bring the whole enterprise crashing down around our ears, in an elaborate and more esoteric version of what comedian Aberdeen’s Dave Whitney allegedly did at the Canon’s Gait to a punter at the bar on Tuesday night. With Richard now embittered into a perverse version of humility after being bullied by Stewart Lee in his silver jubilee year and Andrew shattered by Richard’s determination to break the first rule of improv and block any pathetic attempt at half a joke, they attempt to reintroduce a little tenderness into their relationship, with some casualties, notably those in the front row. Still, look at the size of that rat in Bradford! Only three more to go. It’ll be fine.
We didn’t take any pictures of the audience, out of sympathy for them.
We’re back for the second of the two five-day batches of Collings & Herrin live podcasts from the GRV in Edinburgh, number 127, and what a return! Not only is Richard knackered after the excesses of producing As It Occurs To Me in “Jimmy hats” and a bath salts-insensible Andrew unable to make a single joke, even one about a man who is hungry living in Hungary, but Tony Blair’s blood advance proves a subject too serious to provide any humour whatsoever, and Cannon and Ball weren’t even to blame for making that Daily Mail reader late for work after this lunch. Thankfully, there is live Space Dust consumption, on mic, and a superb soap opera linked to the nice couple of postgraduates on the front row, whom you can see in the second audience picture. They paid five pounds. And all your Doctor Who trivia questions are answered.
In the fifth of our live Edinburgh podcasts, and the fourth that has come out – Podcast 126: Light Side Of The Poon – we recreate, in full, an entire episode of the American sitcom Friends. We also solve the blue towel mystery, improve Anglo-Australian relations immeasurably, rewrite the pronunciation of some popular names, recall fondly the occasional naked lady on the cover of the Sunday Times magazine and the half-inch of underskirt Andrew glimpsed when Sarah Jane Smith fell over on the Giant Robot episode of Doctor Who, defend David Beckham’s sister’s empty wheelie bin and mount our own version of Willy Wonka’s golden ticket scheme. And Richard unveils his new variety act: failing to identify audience members by their accents. Back on Wednesday, kids, with Space Dust action.
In today’s audience photo, you can see the Australian couple in the front row who provided Richard with most of his material.
In the fourth Live Collings & Herring Podcast from the GRV at the Edinburgh Fringe, Podcast 125, we are still trying to process the loss of Podcast 123, which leapt, like Scrappy the dog, from the equivalent of a ledge in a Dracula castle in Aberdeenshire and was never seen or heard from again. Unbelievable! We also berate “the most disgusting woman in Britain”, Carla Bruni, the right wing Americans who object to someone building something two blocks from the non-existent shadow of the Twin Towers, whoever it was who stole Richard’s blue towel, Ewen McGregor’s character in Angels And Demons (which is a bang up to date cinema reference) and of course those who believe in love. Richard’s gaping bag gets a mention, too. It’s all very serious, as befits an audience keener to listen silently than, say, laugh.
Here is the audience:
So, the Collings & Herrin Live Podcasts at the Edinburgh Fringe 2010 at the GRV have begun in earnest. (Read about our antics at the Fringe on my blog and Richard’s blog, in way more detail than you could ever have imagined.)
You can download Podcast 122 in its entirety.
In the first of ten live podcasts recorded at the GRV at the Edinburgh Fringe (but still officially number 122), we set the scene for our tenure in the land of the incomprehensible town name: the Young Ones-style flat, Justin Moorhouse’s role as the kitchen Buddha, the capacity of the tall bedrooms to accommodate a human pyramid featuring Tom Wrigglesworth and the tallest of the Penny Dreadfuls, and the intrigue of the washing up rota. Coping with the very real possibility of a beer-batter-related toxic accident, the spectre of Herring distracts himself by indulging in some PG-rated banter with our audience, some of which involves his “disco stick”. Sponsored by Wet Ones, which are just the thing after a wet one.
You can download the numerically historic Podcast 123 in anything but its entirety, as my laptop killed it due to the interminable nature of my recollections about Celebrity Masterchef – you’re left with a 2 min 46 sec introduction, plus a ten-minute living room table apology and spat.
APOLOGY: Unless you were among the 80 or so quiet and judgmental people who attended the live recording of Podcast 123 – numerically historic – you will not be able to experience it in your ears. Because GarageBand broke. Naturally, as those who were there will confirm (it’s a bit like being at the Sex Pistols gig at the Manchester Free Trade Hall), it was the best podcast ever recorded, and at no point did we dither or alienate the audience or make idiots of ourselves by talking about Wet Ones, the 7/7 atrocity, the Lockerbie bomber, pork scratchings, Dundee Paratrooper the cloned bull, the previous night’s Masterchef, Big John Little John, bucket shops and the fact that one of our audience had done a wee in the aisle. It was historic. And to top it all, the power went off in the entire building five minutes before the end, plunging the show into darkness, at which point we all sang You’ve Got The Power. It was like the Blitz. You really should have been there. If you weren’t, we offer the first 2 minutes and 46 seconds from the dressing room, and a short statement recorded back at the flat. And we will never record a podcast on Andrew’s laptop ever again without having Richard’s on as well.
And, once it’s loaded, you will be able to download Podcast 124 in its entirety, as we did it on Richard’s laptop.
The lights are back on! After the mythical Podcast 123, which may never have existed in the first place, we are back at the GRV in Edinburgh and undefeated by either electricity or electrical appliances. In either the third or second live podcast of the Fringe, after a cathartic shouting match about the washing up, we find out how to smoke “rocks” of “crack” “cocaine” in the Daily Mail, put the clocks forward with David Cameron, discover Iggy Pop’s attitude to pants and socks, give out cuttings from newspapers as big prizes to our audience, sing Disney songs and test levels of prurience by imagining a TV fertility expert with some singlets.
Stay tuned for more goatish lunacy and audience harassment. Seven more to go.