Prisoners turned songwriters, acid house flashbacks, a former boyband star wrecking Ed Sheeran’s house: you come across some fascinating stories at the Edinburgh Fringe. Much of the coverage around this vast arts festival may now focus on stand-up, but look beyond the huge comedy section and you’ll often find music people making new departures.
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One of the best things generally this year is A Giant on the Bridge, which attracts a sizeable congregation to a former church, The Roxy, at 10.40am. It begins with Louis Abbott, from the fine Glaswegian band Admiral Fallow, recalling a nervy trip to teach prison inmates songwriting. I caught a promising showcase of those songs at London’s Daylight Music a while back, and they’ve now been transformed into a unique theatre show, featuring real-life stories, fairy-tale elements, a sort-of supergroup, plus rapper, and a rapturous ovation afterwards.
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At lunchtime K Lorrel Manning gets a similar response in a much smaller space right opposite the Roxy, but this souped-up box suits his purposes – as do the smaller ones on stage, full of LPs. Lost… Found is the sometimes intense but still very accessible story of how he survived a harrowing childhood via the power of Prince, Donna Summer, and more – and spins some of that vinyl along the way. Honestly, we dare you to remain unmoved.
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Arriving mid-Fringe, meanwhile, is the man with surely the most appropriate surname at the festival. Kirk Field was one of the first rave writers in the late 1980s, and recently published a well-received book that has now spawned a Fringe show – Rave New World: Acid House Cabaret – then heads off on tour. To find the dates you’ll need to drive to a service station just off the M25, wait for a drinks truck to turn up, and follow that.
Nah – but that is how the punters found the parties, early on. Field’s first rave involvement was in that water lorry, and when the driver’s pager pinged, a huge convoy followed; which was awkward when they got lost down some muddy track. Awkward. After a slightly clunky opening this is an enlightening trip back to those heady days, including a tabloid-headline quiz and unique new versions of some classic bangers.
Another entertainingly autobiographical tale, Not in Eileen is back from last year, now in a bigger venue, the Voodoo Rooms, but pleasingly ramshackle. As a callow teen Pete Saunders played keyboards for the original Dexy’s Midnight Runners, and has spicy tales of life with enigmatic frontman Kevin Rowland; touring with The Specials and The Selector, late-night generosity from the late Terry Hall, brazen thievery. Slade’s Noddy Holder is still furious about that guitar.
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Clang! There are some fabulous namedrops in Jake Roche’s debut show, Neporrhoids, notably Ed Sheeran, the best-mate whose house he made a mess of. Roche was, briefly, a big star, frontman for the band Rixton, who chart-topped with ‘Me and My Broken Heart’ in 2014: this is the story of that rise and difficult fall, all told with enormous chutzpah. The title? He’s a self-confessed nepo baby (dad Shane Ritchie, mum Colleen Nolan, who’s in tonight) and at least one name is changed: his girl-band ex. Having tackled comedy/theatre here, with enormous confidence, it’ll be interesting to see where he turns next.
Also talking life and music, comedian Ivo Graham has already gone big on gigs with GigPigs, a podcast with fellow comic Alex Kealy in which they take guests to see, say, Boygenius or Kendrick Lamar, then get geeky about it. And this foray into theatre continues that theme. Carousel is about memories, and music plays a major part, beginning with the beautiful ‘Migration’ by Bonobo, one of the acts with a significant presence in his story. Switching to theatre allows for ruminations about Ninja Tunesmiths, and he’s clearly put heart and soul into this show, and its soundtrack.
In a category all of its own, meanwhile, Jukebox Jury is a modern rework of the old TV format, hosted by radio DJ and electronica head Helen Wallace. This version has added jeopardy as Wallace opens and plays random email demo submissions, and the panel – including your Clash correspondent, one Saturday – tries to be constructive, as it’s all livestreamed, and everyone knows the location. Thankfully we emerge unscathed.
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The biggest laughs this year: Shitty Mozart, aka US comic Aaron Nemo playing a bad US clone of the original Wolfgang. He does late-night audio-visual business with an onstage robot companion called Mr Brightside, who disses the show via samples from the Killers’ anthem (will Shitty Mozart be successful? “Nev-errrr.”) It’s mostly dumb fun, with moments of genius, from ruining ‘September’ by Earth, Wind and Fire to the Scandinavian Daft Punk.
Or how about an Irish Tupac Shakur? Proper theatre now, but seriously unstuffy: Boy in da Korma, written and performed by Jaisal Marmion, is about a 17 year-old misfit who suddenly decides he’s the reincarnation of Tupac (having also channelled Dizzee Rascal, hence the title). So he targets a local talent contest to showcase his debatable gifts, and does a bunch of enjoyable raps along the way. They aren’t brilliant, but that’s the point.
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‘Gig theatre’ is a term that sounds grim, like ‘gig economy,’ but that combo genre can inspire interesting stuff. It’s basically theatre based around a band, like Lynn Faces, where we’re supposedly watching the live debut of a high-concept four-piece who wear masks of Lynn, Alan Partridge’s hapless assistant. In truth the mock-ramshackle bad-gig energy is a bit too accurate, but the story gradually unfolds: this is the frontwoman’s response to a controlling relationship, hence the Lynn masks. But I notice a few people leave before that point, which all adds to the realism, at least.
And to finish, some classic old-school Fringe action. Darkside is another novel crossover, a Tom Stoppard play about thought experiments and morality interspersed with dance routines to Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark Side of the Moon.’ Which may seem a bit random, as some reviews mentioned, but Stoppard’s original radio play was inspired by that record, so this is perhaps the inevitable result.
It’s a bold staging and probably not for everyone, but there are some impressive performances and you will come away sometime after midnight feeling that – with this show at least – you’ve properly done the Edinburgh Fringe this year.
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Words: Si Hawkins // @SiHawkins
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