Robin Ince’s whimsy is a cushion on the nail bed of his hate
I was blessed with good parents who provided my brother and I with a warm, loving environment to grow up in. Unfortunately they’re not quite old enough yet for me to return that favour by placing them into a moderately priced care home. But they also brought me up with a healthy appreciation for good live comedy and that’s certainly one act I can repay now.
On my recommendation they attended Robin Ince’s Darwin Birthday Spectacular at Norwich Arts Centre back in November; a touring version of his School for Gifted Children shows featuring Robin and Josie Long alongside folk musician Gavin Osborn and popular science writers, Ben Goldacre and Simon Singh. My parents both enjoyed it but my mum remarked that Robin seemed like an angrier Stewart Lee and that she had concerns about his levels of stress.
I talked to Robin about this (the comparison with Stewart, not my mother’s fears of an imminent cardiac arrest) during a recent interview for Den of Geek:
I’ve noticed with Stewart Lee, because we’re both middle-aged men with young children, our concerns have become similar. This is probably going to sound really highfaluting and awful but it’s as if the morality comes more and more to the fore and I think, “I don’t want the world to be this wrong.”
And yet one of Robin’s favourite pieces of cinema is the the first ten minutes of the 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake where the world turns to absolute shit. He is a paradoxical man.
Here’s another cut piece from our chat, where Robin discusses working with childhood heroes and not being able to find somewhere to hang his coat backstage:
One of the reasons I started in stand-up is John Hegley. Whenever I’ve worked with him it’s a tremendous excitement because I watched him when I was 15 years old and he’s someone that I think has carved out a brilliant career doing what he believes in.
I still have a signed Jeremy Hardy poster I got when I was 17 years old in Edinburgh. He was selling posters from his show for a pound for the Terrence Higgins Trust and now I find myself sitting next to him when I do The News Quiz.
I keep going on about Alan Moore, but it was one of the most exciting things doing a gig in Northampton. I was saying to a guy outside I was getting worried because what if Alan Moore was there? And yes, he is. He’s in the front row with his wife Melinda. I’m trying out a show that I’ve never done before and because of the shape of Alan’s hair you can tell when he’s laughing because there’s a certain movement in it. Then afterwards when I’m chatting to him and he goes, “You should come round to dinner at some point.” I’m going, “This is Alan Moore! I started reading him when I was ten years old in 2000 AD, Warrior Magazine, and V for Vendetta and now I can be in a room having a conversation with him and finding out things and learning stuff.”
These are all of the sides that make up for the fact that I’ve spent a lot of my time sitting on late night trains or at home full of self-loathing going, “That wasn’t as good as it should have been. I’ve let that audience down.” When I’m just sitting outside of a pub having a conversation with you I’m full of excitement and thinking, “What a magnificent world,” but tomorrow when I’m about to go on stage I’ll think, “What on earth are you doing? Why are you standing here about to show off to people and talk about things?” At the Lyric I saw my arm as I was gesturing in some routine and I thought, “I’m still wearing a fucking duffel coat,” such a British amateurish thing.
Robin’s flat was flooded with sewage a few years ago, destroying his prized record collection. Here’s a documentary he did for Radio 4 back in 2008 asking if his generation were the last to have such an obsession with music. It also features Stewart Lee, Andrew Collins and Lauren Laverne.
[podcast]http://www.cakeinmilk.com/podcasts/How%20Robin%20Ince%20Got%20His%20Groove%20Back.mp3[/podcast]