BIG MONEY PROMOTERS TAKE FUN OUT OF FRINGE

The Edinburgh Fringe has lost its comedy spirit according to some insiders. There has been loads said about how too many big promoters, too many big names and too many big prices have dampened what the Fringe is all about. And some of what has been said is true.

Comedy at the Fringe is all about who has the biggest glossiest posters, who can get their face on a taxi and guess who is doing one big show at Edinburgh Castle? Lesser-known comics, getting a few quid together and putting on a wee show at some underground bar, tend to get stamped-on financially. How the hell can they get an audience when the big boys are doing 2-for-1s with a guest 'As seen on TV' on their late night gig?

Decent reviews are the one thing that manage to get an audience through the door, but who the hell is going to get a review if they haven't managed to pay a PR person to call the reviewer? Why do we need to see at least fifteen reviews of the same show, while the wee comedy gig in the underground bar waits patiently for an audience or at the very least a review? Something to show for the thousands of pounds they have shelled out to get on stage. It's heart-breaking. I know the feeling.

In 2002 and 2003, I had a show on and did not get even ONE newspaper review. In fact, I became the only act in the venue not to get a review. Edinburgh in August becomes awash with London promoters. I had a fabulous promoter in 2004 called Nigel and he was amazing, but you pay for big promoted shows. Though it works for most people. I enjoyed the experience but much prefer dealing with people myself and doing most of the stuff hands-on.

That's what the Fringe is about: getting a venue, getting the posters made, bartering for deal, finding a flat, getting your press release ready, organising a flyering team and pulling it all together. Maybe other people hate that part, but for me it's what the Festival is about.
Edinburgh City Council has huge issues with the Fringe, from noisy venues to issues with the publicity material. There is an ongoing battle for power.

I think one way to please the City Council and make the Fringe a better, level playing field for performers would be to ban all posters and flyers in the streets. Only have posters in the venues. It would cut down fewer trees and deal with the offensive carbon footprint that the Fringe posters induce.

The wastage of flyers and posters is horrifying. You just have to see the street cleaners pick them up nightly and you know why they should be banned. Forget about the transport, ink, paper, mess and waste at the end of the Fringe run.

I have posters and flyers this year again. I have to. It's the culture created by the promoters and venues. But it can change.

Flyering street teams are brought in from outside Edinburgh, they take up loads of the flats and that pushes up accommodation prices due to the demand for flats during the busy Fringe. The cost of renting a flat for that one Fringe month equals the owner's annual mortgage on the flat: that's how they work the cost out, a rental agent guy told me.

Banning flyers and posters would also mean audiences can go see shows without being pushed into 'As seen on TV' aggressive marketing techniques. It would open the field up and let smaller venues show their wares.

If you are a comic and can afford to plaster your face on every billboard, every magazine, every other taxi and get every known reviewer fighting for a ticket, then go to Vegas and leave the Fringe to the people who have yet to be discovered.

I love the Fringe, I love my job but it is becoming too hard to enjoy and it's an unfair trading house for the less well off.

Their talent isn't in question; their bank balance is.

So audiences should take note. Big posters and funky flyering teams don't make the act funnier.

Go see someone you haven't seen before. Take a chance - you never know - you could discover the spirit of the Fringe in a smelly wee basement and go home with no flyer but great memories.

FEELING RIGHT AT HOMELESS... THAT'S RICH

How many posh, rich people can actually fit into Edinburgh? How many Arabellas does it take to pour a cola into a glass?

I have never seen that much calcium in young people's teeth in my life.

Is Chelsea empty?

The sheer amount of rich young things running around working at the Fringe is amazing.

I actually heard one girl shout to her friend behind the bar: “Yah! - Pubert, please tell Archibald to bring over the Pimms - Someone wants to mix it with Bucklefast… Is that actually a drink?”

By contrast, the new Green Room venue is like Greenwich Village in New York; the place is awash with Americans.

The only time I felt at home is when I sat and chatted to a bunch of homeless people - one with a broken ankle of course - and laughed as they drew moustaches on my poster.

I did provide the ink marker.

It was joy to behold.

SAFETY LESSON HAS STING IN THE TAIL

Last week I was teaching my ten year old nephew Shaun some road safety tips.

I stood at the side of Leith Walk in Edinburgh and told him when I was a kid we were taught road safety by talking hedgehogs on the telly.

“Hedgehogs always get killed by cars. Why did they choose hedgehogs?” he asked.

I didn't have an answer.

As I was waiting for the road to clear, a big wasp dive-bombed my ear.

I screamed and ran onto the busy road to avoid the wasp and almost got hit by a truck. Horns blared, tyres screeched, the wasp sat on my eyelid and, as I punched my own eye, I leapt back onto the kerb.

Shaun stood safely on the pavement and, with all the sarcasm a child can muster, said:

“Let's go find a pedestrian crossing, Aunty Janey, before you become a hedgehog”

ART IS IN THE BAG

Arthur Smith has a wonderful big Georgian house at 15 Queen Street for the duration of the Edinburgh Fringe. It's now an art exhibition called Arturart and he is displaying lots of different types of artwork from comics and other Fringe luvvies.

My daughter Ashley and I submitted some work.

My piece is a 9ft square, scary, drunk clown in acrylics on canvas and Ashley did a big colourful abstract woman on the back of a boy band poster.

I was thinking of taking her incredibly messy handbag and splattering the contents over a wooden floor and calling it an installation.

Then again, fifteen bank statements, two broken make-up mirrors, six sets of unidentified keys, screeds of paper with scrawled handwriting, two grubby unused condoms and hoards of small change can't really be considered art can they?