After 21 weeks apart (this would be almost our 200th podcast if not for our hiatus) Collings and Herrin were reunited this afternoon in a cafe in Shepherd's Bush. So long had passed that the cafe had had time to have a makeover since our last visit. Things were a little awkward, but it was never going to be an easy step to get back together. It may never be quite the same again or we might just get over it. But I didn't feel the desire to punch him or kill him. We had a coffee and headed back to the attic to pick up where we left off. You can listen to the results
here or on iTunes. There was plenty to catch up on. And I ask Andrew what it would take for him to fellate Keith Allen, so it's got to be worth a listen. We have a brand new website
where you can leave comments if you wish.
I am glad we're having another crack at it and it's a shame for friendships to crack and fracture over such disagreements as we had. Though it's certainly changed things and maybe it won't be such fun again or something that I move Heaven and Earth to do when I am busy (as I often did with both the podcasts and the 6Music shows). Maybe it will be better for having a shift in the dynamic. Maybe it will go from strength to strength. Maybe the ill will will fester until one of us caves in the other's skull. In some ways any of these eventualities will be interesting. I suspect there is enough affection between us to get the propellors spinning again and the rust bucket soaring awkwardly and judderingly into the air.
Really what could be more entertaining than listening into that awkwardness. Especially if there's also talk of vaginal frubes.
And Andrew Collings is a fucking idiot. So some things don't change.
Tonight I hooked up with another erstwhile double act partner, Stewart Lee, although we were performing separately. We were gigging at the always excellent Bush Hall comedy nights along with Gareth Richards and the man who shows it's possible to go to Hollywood and not come back a prick, Peter Serafinowicz, who is a very lovely person. I had a lovely time MCing this gig: at the moment I am feeling very confident on stage and loving stepping on to stage with no idea of what I am going to say. I knew I had yoghurt knitting and spunk foxes up my sleeve, but loads of stuff I hadn't expected came pouring out. I am not a yoghurt knitter so much as a bullshit weaver. But the garments I sometimes create from this unlikely, metaphysical material come out pretty well, as long as you don't inspect them too closely. Or sniff them. I had fun talking about the need for two storey fried chicken shops in Shepherd's Bush, my anger that I had to go all the way to Goldhawk Rd if I specifically wanted Texas Fried Chicken, the difference between investment banks and regular banks (the regular banks don't invest presumably and I imagined bankers just playing around in the money, coming down slides to dive into it). I accidentally spat some prawn cocktail crisp on a woman in the front row and said this was like the way that animals give pieces of food to each other in courtship rituals. As I went on about crisps I realised I was going into Stewart Lee's territory and discussed how before the gig we had divided subjects up: he does the crisp stuff, I do the yoghurt. I guess you had to be there really.
Stew had a great gig as well and even though our hiatus has been longer than the Collings and Herrin one (it's nearly 13 years since we last really worked together), it was good to see Lee and Herring still have it.
