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Russell Brand at the Camden Roundhouse

Gigs // Jim // 31st December 2007

I’ve never been all that dexterous. Piano lessons as a child were a cruel waste of money for my disappointed mum. Trying the guitar exponentially increased my realisation that I was truly cack-handed, leading to a complete inability in my first year of uni to get any sort of horizontal company by banging out three chords of Dylan and looking a bit fragile. As for typing – you would struggle to comprehend how long it has taken me to single finger this first paragraph in. Nations have risen, fallen, had the odd coup and been invaded by the Americans in less time.

So as you join me in the Fishworks restaurant in Primrose Hill I am having a particularly bad time getting the extraneous bits off a prawn. Claire reckons she can’t do it either, but she can do that thing where you use an empty mussel shell like tweezers to get at the other ones. There is a load of seafood in a big tray full of ice that is all very tasty but there is more chance of my ballet career finally taking off than there is of us finishing the lot. Claire says that if she was a lesbian the waitress would be looking pretty good – I can only have a brief, wistful pause for thought and agree on some level.

Back up the road to the Camden Roundhouse sensibly prior to the seemingly late nine pm start time printed on the tickets for Russell Brand. We go in and I realise that the seats are really right at the top of the place. Get a pint and have a check about the support – there ain’t any and Brand is on in about half an hour. Fortunately at least ten minutes top comedy action is available to those on the balcony outside the bar as I attempt to light a cigarette in a sort of extended Inspector Clouseau except with no fingers manner. Just as well I only smoke for practice.

Several people I know expressed a bit of surprise at me going to see Brand. Claire and I have a vaguely similar experience of seeing him on the TV some time back and thinking “Jesus, what a total twat”, yet then being amused by bits of his stand-up and his show on radio 2. Personally I reckon his short stint at the Amnesty International gig ripping the piss out of the Sun borders on Hicks-esque comic genius. See what you think:

Opinion on Brand seems pretty polarised. I had a look on an internet forum and the comments were either a gushing “Russell is a poet touched by the hand of god – he is Byron reincarnate and the funniest man in the history of the universe” or a moany “He just shows off about drugs and shagging endlessly… and he has stupid hair… and he’s putting that voice on… and he’s just a cunt”. Interestingly the majority of the former comments seemed to have been made by the ladies and the latter made by the gents. Hmmmm.

(in an aside, one bloke had written “Seems to have based his persona/act entirely around Timothy Claypole from Rentaghost. And he was shit.” which is sort of unfair and a bit inaccurate but it did make me laugh out loud)

Imagine that there was some sort of Brand-o-meter, with a gauge that was labelled “Byron-esque Genius” at the positive end and “Stupid-haired Cunt” on the negative. If I was plugged in and a reading taken then I reckon the needle would be sort of hovering a bit inside the positive half. If you want to quantify that I’d put it at about 65% which I am not happy about as I’m not a big fan of having moderate views – things are either ace or shit in my simple, binary world.

The best comedians in my experience are Bill Hicks, Frank Skinner, Lenny Bruce and Gerry Sadowitz - which suggests that I laugh at things based in cynicism, self-deprecation and swearing. Russell Brand does jokes about debauched drug abuse and his epic, hedonistic social life. For my part, I like the occasional spliff and have a sex life that is currently being used as a case study by Chinese zoologists in order to make depressed, under-performing Pandas feel better about themselves. So as we stroll through to our seats in the circle I am hoping this is going to be really funny, but expecting to probably feel a bit left out.

We’ve got seats at the side of the stage, the view is a bit obstructed by a post and some railings – I apologise for this but even the particularly guilty corner of my brain is thinking that it might not be my fault. The intro tape is all Morrissey – it’s great, everyone around is really pleased as I excitedly announce what each song is. The audience is tending towards the female end of the spectrum, some girls in front of us are very, very excited.

The bloke who does the poems on the radio show, Mr. Gee strolls out and does a quick recital and introduction. The climax of Moz doing Come Back To Camden swells up and Russell Brand walks out through the fridge that forms part of the set for the show that is resident at the Roundhouse at the moment.
Dressed exactly as you would expect him to be (like a very tall goth student going to an indie disco) he sets about taking the piss out of the set and slightly destroying bits of it. From there its into a series of extended anecdotes in his signature style that has him whip out a bit of baroque philosophical banter one second then go a bit cockney and pronounce “thing” as “fing” during the same sentence.

It’s not really completely hilarious, but it is entertaining – the audience are fairly quiet for a lot of the time, even the die hards/groupie types. The whole thing is a bit like a rambling, humourous lecture, with some really funny bits thrown in here and there.
The bits I enjoy the most are
1. The tale of dealing with a Yardie taxi driver using faux hardness and the threat of bureaucracy.
2. Russell’s experience of dealing with Tim Westwood and his terribly gangster love of discount sandwiches.
3. Someone shouts out “Where did you get the boots?” – he shoots back “Boot shop!”.

He saunters into the audience, they all look like they are shitting themselves that he is going to pick on them but to his credit he doesn’t – I hate it when comedians pick on some poor bastard near the front just because they look like an easy target, partially because it is lazy and a bit spiteful, but mostly because its happened to me a couple of times and I couldn’t think of a clever retort until about a week later.

He’s onto a sort of sex and wanking over the internet theme now which is possibly all a bit passé to those in the audience of a male persuasion, but the ladies in front seem to be lapping it up, so to speak. Quick chance to ask questions and then he is rambling on about his aftershow party, of which he says only the attractive, vagina-sporting members of the audience should bother trying to get in. Not a big grandstand finish then, but he saunters off to The Boy With The Thorn In His Side and the world is always a better place whenever that gets an airing.

Get harassed by a series of bouncers while waiting outside a toilet and then dive over the road for a few pints. The feeling seems to be that RB is much funnier when he is with his mates on the radio and they are ripping the piss out of each other. That’s not to say that he isn’t worth seeing as a stand-up, but he just seems better when he is sparking off someone else.

Some bloke at the bar says that he is mates with Russell and is expecting him to be over for a drink in a bit. Then he asks if he can borrow 20p. I am genuinely undecided as to whether this makes his claims more or less likely. Anyway, time for a cab ride that due to the mixing of wine and beer I will have absolutely no chance of remembering in the morning.

For me the Russell Brand at the Roundhouse experience was reminiscent of going to Kenilworth Road to watch Luton Town; There was a post in the way that obscured the view at times, there were long periods of near silence, there were a few thousand people there and now and again the whole place pissed itself laughing. The leg-room was loads better though and no-one threatened to stab me.

Linky winks...

Russell Brand Fan site

They like him an awful lot on here

Radio 2 show

You can listen to it here or download the podcast - him and Noel Gallagher taking the piss out of each other is always good.

Brand on smack

Excerpt from his book as published in the Guardian