I don't like running in public. It's not far from Glasgow Central Station to the Arches, but I'm still out of breath by the time I get there.
"I am SO sorry, it took an hour and a HALF to get here from EDINBURGH."
They like you to be early to pick up press tickets. They like to see your credentials and cross-check everything before handing over a free ticket.
"Nae bother, it happens. Enjoy the show!"
Uhm. Okay.
As it turns out, the show is half an hour late to start anyway, and continues far longer than the normal hour-long slot I'm used to. Since venues aren't booked up 24/7, the Glasgow International Comedy Festival is a lot, and I mean a LOT more relaxed than the Fringe over in Edinburgh. Spanning over a mere two weeks, and mostly occupying the evening, the festival goes on while normal Glaswegian life continues above ground, with none of this traffic-stopping intensity that Edinburgh puts itself through once a year.
I'm here to see the Bratchpiece Family Album, a three-piece of comedians all from the same family. As the audience wander in, pints in hands, they do something I have never seen an audience do before- they walk, nae, scramble, to get to the front seats. Sitting at the front? At a comedy gig??
In an interview before the gig, Bratchy pointed out that, after the Fringe, all we see is tumbleweed in the capital, while the Glasgow festival is just a kind of exaggeration of what the city is like normally. The Fringe is full of TV-friendly names and tourists, whereas here, audiences are full of mates and family members, stages populated by local heroes and urban legends.
Having never met my editor, I reviewed The Bratchpieces and a few other shows for The Skinny, a free cultural magazine widely distributed throughout Edinburgh and Glasgow.
Will Setchell
Martin Mor
Keith Farnan
"I am SO sorry, it took an hour and a HALF to get here from EDINBURGH."
They like you to be early to pick up press tickets. They like to see your credentials and cross-check everything before handing over a free ticket.
"Nae bother, it happens. Enjoy the show!"
Uhm. Okay.
As it turns out, the show is half an hour late to start anyway, and continues far longer than the normal hour-long slot I'm used to. Since venues aren't booked up 24/7, the Glasgow International Comedy Festival is a lot, and I mean a LOT more relaxed than the Fringe over in Edinburgh. Spanning over a mere two weeks, and mostly occupying the evening, the festival goes on while normal Glaswegian life continues above ground, with none of this traffic-stopping intensity that Edinburgh puts itself through once a year.
I'm here to see the Bratchpiece Family Album, a three-piece of comedians all from the same family. As the audience wander in, pints in hands, they do something I have never seen an audience do before- they walk, nae, scramble, to get to the front seats. Sitting at the front? At a comedy gig??
In an interview before the gig, Bratchy pointed out that, after the Fringe, all we see is tumbleweed in the capital, while the Glasgow festival is just a kind of exaggeration of what the city is like normally. The Fringe is full of TV-friendly names and tourists, whereas here, audiences are full of mates and family members, stages populated by local heroes and urban legends.
Having never met my editor, I reviewed The Bratchpieces and a few other shows for The Skinny, a free cultural magazine widely distributed throughout Edinburgh and Glasgow.
Will Setchell
Martin Mor
Keith Farnan
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