The surprising thing as we entered the Apollo were the signs forbidding not only recording of the show, but also heckling. Is this because Kevin is a particularly delicate flower? Well no/ It soon transpired that the problem is the Kevin Bridges audience. They are stereotypical Scots, even down in London. So that meant in large measure half drunk. Which has two consequences, a regular stream of people needing to get out of their seats for the loo, and lots of heckling. Well, not what I would call heckling so much as random shouting from the crowd. They also didn't seem to have much of an idea of how you listen to an act, ie you don't just carry on conversations yourself. One of my friends loudly asked if someone could ask the group in front of us to speak up as he couldn't quite hear them over the comic. But not too loudly as when Kevin Bridges recounted a story about doing a gig at a particular Scottish prison, the bloke whooped and put his hands up, obviously proud of having served some time there. Yes, it was that sort of audience.
Kevin, in his trademark Glasgow accent, was very good. He has an excellent flow, and while I can't say there were any killer stories or jokes, one was always entertained. An example was his complaint about overseas hotels telling you that wi-fi is only available in the foyer. "So you don't mind me masturbating there? Despite the probable bad reviews on Tripadvisor."
To be fair, if anything his support, Romesh Ranganathan was if anything better. He is one of the better ethnic comics, in that he uses his ethnicity to be genuinely funny rather than to get easy laughs from a middle class audience on a guilt trip. Loved the bit about how he was inspired by the UKIP manifesto to ask his mum what she had done for the nation. "And frankly I wasn't too impressed by her answers."
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