Day 201

Thursday January 25

It’s a nice surprise when Dominic gets in touch to see if we could go for that second try in Quinns tonight. OK. It’s comedy night. They tend to be busy nights and he says he really wants to see what we can do with a crowd. Brilliant. We’re totally up for that.

We’ve been to that night before. It happens at the back of the bar, a thick black curtain turning it into a separate room. Dominic suggests we turn up during the first half, set up, and then be ready to go when they come out for the break. He says it will be a cool surprise for them. Lovely idea. Yes. Let’s do that.

What can we say? It doesn’t work. It doesn’t just not work. It fails spectacularly. It’s something we would have suggested ourselves and indeed something we thought we could have connected with during the Edinburgh Festival. Hook up with a comedian, or a group of them, and play to their audience in the break. Or before. Or after. It’s something we’ve even thought of pitching to a comedian or two in London. So yeah. Dominic’s idea was solid and something we were fully behind. The reality is a full one eighty turn away from the theory. They’re there on a comedy night. Not a music night. And for the organisers, this is their crowd, no-one else’s. We’re not allowed to have it. 

So what exactly does happen? Well, as soon as we start playing, they start walking. Right out of the side door onto the street. And out there they all huddle and stay, resolutely, determinedly, waiting for us to finish as we play gamely and full heartedly to an all but empty and very large bar. We spiritedly take it to three songs but the writing is all over the wall, over the ceilings and out onto and across the street. Take this one on the chin. We were not wanted in here from the beginning and it had nothing to do with anything we were or weren’t going to play. They could have had anyone in here tonight and it wouldn’t have made any difference. Hell, they could even have had…The Diaries.

But all is not quite as disastrous as it may appear. As we’re taking our gear down, someone from a table in an alcove down the bar, a table that we couldn’t see, comes up and says disappointedly, ‘Is that it? Are you done?’ ‘Afraid so,’ I say. We were here to play for the comedy crowd in the break and they couldn’t have cared less so we just called it.’ ‘Well we thought you guys were great,’ he says. Oh. OK. Thanks. He goes on his way and we carry on packing up. As we do, more and more people come up to us to say more of the same. 

It’s fair to say we still feel a little downcast when we go and talk to Dominic, who was busy with other things and didn’t catch our blink when you miss it set. ‘It didn’t work,’ I say. ‘The comedy guys just didn’t want music in their half time break and we never had a chance.’ ‘Did people come up to you afterwards and say they enjoyed it and well done?’ Dominic asks. ‘They did.’ ‘You can’t ask for more than that,’ he replies. ‘That’s a success.’ We’re quick to let him know that we thought tonight was a great idea and it’s something we’d been thinking of for a while. But I add, ‘We’ll be knocking that idea on the head though. We’ve tried it now and discovered it doesn’t work.’ ‘Forget about all that now,’ says Dominic. ‘Shall we just carry on with playing in the break of the quiz next week like we said?’ Yes, yes and yes. And just like that, tonight never happened.