My first NYC trip in six months (due to requiring worn out bits of me to be replaced) also coincided with the Masters golf, impacting slightly on my haul of comedy shows.
The first Friday was a brand-new venue (tick) called The Seventh Street Comedy Club. Tickets were $12 but once there it was BYOB (tick). Additionally, it was in a small, converted space, formerly a photography studio, in the Lower East Side (tickety-tick). With so much going for it, plus the lineup published in advance, I had high hopes.
There was a bit of a mismatch between those performing and those listed to appear - to the extent that it was arguable whether it was worth publishing the lineup at all. Host Dylan Krasinski was tolerable and headliner Dan St Germain did not bad but the whole evening was a tad underwhelming. Two audience members on a first date alternating swigs directly out of a wine bottle was certainly a lasting memory.
Not an actual night of standup but Saturday's dinner was at the Olive Tree Cafe, directly above the Comedy Cellar. Notable appearances at the comedians' table included a trio of regular Edinburgh Fringe performers, Chris Turner, Alex Edelman and Daniel Simonsen. Star-spotting excitement clicked up several gears when I noticed Matt Damon standing six feet to my left. He was quickly ushered downstairs to be seated with his entourage of 11.
The following Monday was our regular doubling up of shows - Monday Night Mob at Standup NY and Frantic at Stand NYC with dinner in between. MNM (which is what Richard Herring's cool kids are calling it) was another success. We got good seats, a tumbler full of inexpensive wine and a dangerously toxic beer. About the only complaint I could reasonably level at them is that the sets are so rapid-fire that it can be difficult to catch the names of comics you enjoy.
I was flying solo for Frantic at 10pm. There was a fair smattering of talent billed (Aaron/Sean Patton/Emma Willman/Ari), an encouraging number of names new to me and minimal acknowledged poison. Aaron co-hosted with Jamar Neighbors and although it started well, I think we could generously say that it went off the rails slightly. Emma was up first and did well but a certain comic who I harp on about came to the stage shortly after. They had also appeared unbilled on Friday's show to my distress and proceeded to hack their way through the same set. After another couple of disappointments and my pint being finished I opted for a strategic exit. Both Ari and Sean were booked in for the following night so it felt like I had that to fall back on.
The lineup for Tuesday at the Stand was terrific. Dan Soder, Ari, Sean Patton and Joe List, plus Onika McLean as MC. Things got even better when Mark Normand went up first. I assumed that he was replacing someone but all the billed acts subsequently showed. Everyone was on form, even Joe List, who I'm sometimes neutral on. He had just burnt all his material on a special and was starting from absolute zero. He was disarmingly engaging as he hopped from topic to topic, scratching in the dirt for laughs. The only criticism I could level at the evening was that Onika does the same material every single time she MCs. "Black don't crack unless you smoke it". Yes, yes, love. You've said that every time I've seen you for the past four years and I'm only in town about eight weeks a year. Jeezo.
The following night we were over at The Comedy Cellar, or to be precise, The Fat Black Pussycat Lounge. The lineup was mixed with at least one significant drawback present but to counter that we had Phil Hanley and Joe Machi. Phil was everything you would hope he would be and we really enjoyed Joe. After that things tailed off quickly. Emmy Blotnick was adequate and while the crowd certainly went for Andrew Schulz, we weren't entirely sold on him.
Thursday night represented our fourth night of standup in row. I can't remember exactly how it came about that we were signing up for a free show in the back room of a restaurant in Williamsburg, but that's what happened. We were a little late arriving and barely had time to buy a couple of glasses of off wine before the scheduled start. Girlfriend popped through to assess the seating and came back to say that it looked like we were the only audience members. Someone else did wander in through an open back door (with a kid!) and when they left, a good-looking black couple from Brooklyn took their seats but four was as high as the crowd got.
Although the room was pretty enough, it was always going to be a struggle for the comics. There were no real winners - in fact the only names I jotted down were ones I planned to put a "-1" against in my big book of NY comedians.
That was the end of the planned comedy for the trip but on the Monday evening we found ourselves at a music event just off Union Square called Sofar Sounds. It concluded just shy of 10pm and as The Stand was only a couple of blocks north, it seemed rude not to call in to another edition of Frantic. Apart from anything else, I hadn't bumped into Joe Harary on either of the visits the previous week.
The lineup was nothing to write home about but saying that, the one from a week before had been great and I'd left before a lot of them had gone up. Halfway down the stairs I spotted Joe seating people. I paused to catch his eye and he grinned and gave me a fist bump, allowing me to then seat myself. Aaron and Jamar hosted again with the latter being a tad less boisterous than he'd been seven days earlier. The small crowd were a bit too vocal for my liking and Cipha Sounds spent most of his set wrangling an "Indian Karen" in the front row who accused him of being racist. Drew Dunn also had to forego trying new stuff and fall back on established material on realising the crowd weren't attentive enough.
My pint was nearly done and I was swithering between making it last for one more comic, buying another or necking it and leaving. At that point it became apparent that the act I'd seen twice already (twice more than I'd like) was up next. Decision made, I headed for the subway.
That was virtually it for comedy, except that it transpired that Dave Hill was opening for the Smiths tribute act we were booked in to see the following night. I had listened to a Todd Barry podcast with Dave just the week before and was somewhat intrigued by the prospect. My excitement was dulled a little by watching 10 minutes of his special. He comes on with a guitar but isn't really a musical comedian - he just sort of tits about with it. He did the same titting about at the Bowery Ballroom as he'd done in his special - no burning material for this lad - and his 15 minutes on stage felt like a long time. The tribute act's new singer was also shit so it wasn't much of a finale to our trip.
Trip Stats
Shows attended - 7
Visits to Stand NYC - 3
Expenditure - $46
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