It’s very frustrating to do a show in Edinburgh, know that it’s good, that people who see it like it quite a lot, but that you might as well be spitting notions into a fan. A guy like Richard Herring plays to more people in a few nights than have seen me in ten years. The biggest Fringe acts beat my aggregate Edinburgh audience total, acquired over a decade, in ONE NIGHT.

Focusing on performance and insufficiently capitalized for successful promotion, I have gone through entire festivals, knocking myself out, only to find that people who like me didn’t even know I was there. And people who did know I was there didn’t necessarily come to to see my show.

I mean, folks who’ve said to my face that I am, in my way, a defining Fringe presence — even media types who’ve written I am — don’t necessarily tread a path that beats to my door. I exist in my own bubble, always there, like Argentina. I could probably create the illusion of an Edinburgh run without even going.


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