Fat Roland: Seven Inch live in Manchester (and online) – tickets on sale now

I'm proper excited to announce that my Seven Inch show is making its live premiere in Manchester.

I'll perform Seven Inch on 20 January 2021 for Turn On Fest, the annual LGBTQIA+ arts festival run in collaboration with the amazing Hope Mill Theatre and Manchester Pride's Superbia.

This is the Edinburgh Fringe adaptation of my record shop show originally commissioned by The Lowry theatre. For this new version, which ran for two weeks in August 2019, I sliced out much of the spoken word and converted it into a comedy show designed for a small box space: more funnies, more sillies, more intimate, fewer wasps in the classical music section.

"But Fat Roland," I hear you say, "how can you do a show during the apocalypse? Are you some kind of idiot or what?"

Yes, I am an idiot, but that's besides the point. This is a real-life show in a real space with actual people and everything. Hope Mill Theatre are committed to a virus-careful event, with distancing and screens in place. And I'll be distanced from you, so you can relax and enjoy the show.

This is how we do it. Book your tickets to see me LIVE, i.e. IRL, i.e. distanced face-to-face. And then if the prime minister Blobby Johnson puts higher tier restrictions in place, or we consider the event wouldn't be safe just yet, we'll bump it to a later date. 

The best thing is, you keep your ticket. So get those tickets booked! This is a one-off, so don't miss out.

Alternatively, if you're not yet up for IRL events, then there's an option to watch online. Live AND broadcast at the same time, just like the football or something. I dunno. Are they still doing football these days? Gooooaaal!

Buy tickets to see Fat Roland: Seven Inch at Hope Mill Theatre, Manchester at 7pm on 20 January 2021.

Here's some blurb, but presented as if Shirley Bassey was singing it: 

FAT ROLAND: SEVEN INCH — Set in the last record shop still standiiiiiing, Manchester comic Fat Roland re-examines his life through not-so-teenage kicks, surrounded by forgettable (and unforgettable) pop musiiiiiiic. *dress glitters in the lights* Amid the cobwebbed racks and fading seven-inch siiiiiiingles, he faces his 45th birthday alone – when a new opportunity comes knockiiiiing, will Roland pack up his gramophoooo-oooooone? *cut to James Bond title sequence* Originally a five-staaaaar, one-idiot commission for The Lowryyyyyyyyy, *big arm raise* this special adaption for the Edinburgh Friiiiinge is making its Manchester premieeeeeeeere. *Propellerheads do a remix* *annoys all the rock bores by doing Glastonbury*

I went into a black hole and all you got was this blog post about the Edinburgh Fringe

It's more than a week since I returned from the Edinburgh Fringe. A week since I stopped pouring money into the huge financial black hole that is Edinburgh economies. I've not checked my bank balance yet. I daren't.

And actually, I don't have to. I can ignore it. If you have a fridge full of spiders, you don't have to open the fridge to know they're still there. In this metaphor, the fridge is my online banking account and the spiders are my meagre funds and the person not opening / logging into the white goods / website is me.

Still with me? Good. On the positive side, my energy levels are alright. I'm not as fashed and bashed post-Fringe as in previous years. I came into this year's festival in better creative shape: a show what was written proper, and a pretty good idea of how to keep an audience laughing for an hour.

I'm currently enjoying the chance to slow down. A bit of self care. Chilling to Spotify's recommendations - the app is currently playing me Speedy J and John Beltram and Req and some insipid jungle-lite nonsense I just thank-u-nexted harder than an Ariana possessed.

I have a bunch of live appearances coming up, including a gig in a caravan. Come and buy a ticket for something if you fancy - click here. Put some money back into the system so people like me can chuck it at a Fringe show

#SevenInch diary days eleven, twelve and thirteen: no bubbles were harmed in the making of this show

It has been a while since my last update on my ramblings at the Edinburgh Fringe. There are three reasons for this.

1. I increased my flyering activity, so I spent time prowling Lothian boulevards instead of blogging.

2. After my final show, I went to a tonne of other shows like a right old louche. I had so much fun, I missed my pre-booked train home by a full 24 hours.

3. This isn't Watch Mojo with its constant promise of content, content and more content, jeez gimme a break.

My final Seven Inch shows were storming. No, really. I know Fringe artists present a positive side to keep the PR bubble unpopped, but this was a total blast. Great audiences, with people literally crying laughing. I've had so much fun.

The last show of my run was on my birthday, so the audience sang - you guessed it - happy birthday. I didn't get any cake though which, for those of you that have seen the Fringe show, you'll agree is very much in the spirit of Seven Inch.

Seven Inch gathered real momentum in the last third of its run, with people turning up through word-of-mouth. Actual real people - they weren't made of paper, honest. Audience donations reached in triple-figures per performance, which I've not had before. Slower chunks of the original show have been replaced with stuff that's quicker, sharper, in-your-face.

However, unlike my first show in 2015, I didn't get any reviews, possibly because most short-run free shows don't get much press interest. What I have ended up with, however, is a production with more heart and more comedy than the Lowry version. I also have something that I can tour - watch this space.

I am now skint. This was my most advertised and most flyered show yet, and all that cost money. *rolls up trousers, puts on flat cap, asks for more gruel* You can help me be less skint by coming to see me live - I've updated my gig page here. Oh and you can read more about Seven Inch in this blog posts here.

Photo: Loud Poets

#SevenInch diary days eight, nine and ten: sozzled, soaked, superb

Last night, I dreamed that every Edinburgh pedestrian was dressed as an egg. Big oval costumes with leg holes, but no arm holes or eye holes. Chaos.

The last few days performing Fat Roland: Seven Inch at the 2019 Edinburgh Fringe have been great fun. My latest three audiences have been, in order:

1. Staggeringly sozzled. A hen-do style birthday pub crawl came to my show and, woah, they were boisterous. The sober section of the audience looked on with delight as I fought to keep the show on track. Very funny.

2. Stupendously soaking. The audience enjoyed the show, but they'd just been gushed on by torrential rain, so I felt a bit sorry for them. A little quieter than usual.

3. Sooooo celebratory. A packed crowd who gave me my strongest audience reaction ever at the Fringe. A full five-star fun fest. What a treat. Shout out to the Canadian who high-fived me for mentioning Bran Van 3000!

I did an open spot at Comedy Shorts, a compilation of various funny shows. It went down really well, I think. Part of my strategy putting on Seven Inch is to enable me to move more into the alternative comedy scene, and Comedy Shorts felt like a good indicator.

I've been catching up with friends where I can, and with only three more shows to do, the end is in sight. I got some emergency flyers printed yesterday. I've given away so many, I nearly ran out.

There I am, above, handing out flyers. It's a nice flyer. I drew it all by myself.

Fat Roland: Seven Inch starts at 1.15pm sharp on August 11th,12th and 13th at the Newsroom (near Waverley Station). Free entry (donation at the end.) 

#SevenInch diary days six and seven

Here's a big sausagey catch-up on two days of Edinburgh Fringe faffing.

Yesterday morning, I returned to the Tales of Whatever stage to tell a true story. I added a bit about plasticine models of Lorraine Kelly. It went down proper ace.

My sixth show got decent numbers, and today's seventh show was the bestest fun yet. Every beat of the show hit, and it was a thrill to carry people through an hour of the most wonderful nonsense.

Last night, I was a guest at Loud Poets. I did pieces about eggs and dogs and Brian May's hair and 2 Unlimited. I wore a "shush" hat (pictured) but the Loud Poets were as deliciously Loud as ever.

This afternoon's flyering was nixxed by a thunder storm. I should try again tonight, but I need to reset my props (see previous post) so that's my day pretty much done.

I added two more cartoon props into my show today (a pair of gloopy bins), to tighten a slightly floppy section. They went down well, so I'll try them again tomorrow. The other day, I removed a prop (exchangeable Frank Sinatra eyes) because the joke wasn't quite hitting. So we're one prop up.

Read my Edinburgh Fringe blog here. And come and see my show, you flipping idiot - there are only six more chances.

#SevenInch diary day five: funnel innovation

I'm pushed for time today, so this latest post in my series of blog posts about my 2019 Edinburgh Fringe show will be expressed in partial thoughts and fleeting emotions.

Time to flyer. Where's that banging coming from? An honour and a joy. I am doing good flyering. What if funnels only went upwards? Excellent eyelashes. I just want my show to start. I want to yawn. That dog is upside down. Why is that guy in my audience reading a newspaper? Oh he's walked out. Slight anxiety. I'm thirsty. That bloke looks so 70s. There is so much chocolate at the bottom of this milkshake. Suppose I'd better do more flyering. Hello wasp. A gameshow that's Pointless but there's no presenters and everyone just stands there. So, so tired. I've only got eight shows to go: I don't want it to end. Eggs. Is that the same wasp? Dog's upside-down again. Oh THATS where that banging's coming from.

THREE gigs today - follow my exploits on Twitter.

#SevenInch diary day four: a big gay Sunday

Show four of Fat Roland: Seven Inch was, as the owl insisted to the birdsong fraud squad, a real hoot.

I'm getting quality audiences this year. Numbers are okay, but even better, the people who are turning up are proper laughy. They've got silly in their belly.

I didn't get time yesterday to write this. I got up, flyered, did the show, met a mate for lunch, worked on the props, went to another show, did a five-minute spot at the Big Gay Storyslam, then stayed out for drinks.

That "worked on the props" means resetting my 200+ props in order, and mending anything broken. I have to allow three hours a day for this, although I can do it in two. If you saw the show, you'd see why. Yeesh.

The Big Gay Storyslam (pictured) was fun. I told my tale of coming out in a church magazine - packed with giggly moments of course. The worthy winner was a guy who told, for the first time, a sad story of toxic relationships. A real pause-for-thought moment.

A quieter day today. Flyering, show, lunch, props, more flyering, chill, sorted. If you're in Edinburgh, come and see the 'show' bit of that sentence.

#SevenInch diary day three: the Son of God loves this show

While sitting on a bench coming down from my second show yesterday, a bloke leaned over to me and said "Jesus loves you".

I think what he meant to say was "Jesus would definitely come to Seven Inch because it is the best record shop comedy at the Edinburgh Fringe". Aw thanks Jesus, I always knew you were a good guy.

I've now done my third show of my 13-date run for the Edinburgh Fringe Free Festival. The audience seemed into it, but my performer editor brain is now working out how I can tighten the 'crucible' of the show's central conflict. I won't expand more because I don't want to sound like a screenwriting book.

Following today's show, I enjoyed a celebratory Irn Bru (pictured). Yes, it's the diet version. If I drank the full-sugar version, I fear I would turn into some kind of cartoon Godzilla wrecking Auld Reekie to ruins.

My personal fave bits of the show currently are (without spoilers):

"What happened there?"
Seal
The Wham! bit
The phone call
Drawing a pop star

What would Jesus do? He'd read more about my show here.

#SevenInch diary day two: 200 props and counting

As the barman passes me, he says "they're queuing up outside!"

"Oh cool," I nonchalantly reply as my ego does backflips inside my brain.

My second outing for Seven Inch got a decent-sized crowd, and it already feels like the show is bedding in nicely. I've made some tweaks here and there, and I've replaced one section of the script with dog noises. No, really.

I'm choosing to do the show off-mic, as in I'm projecting like an actor, which is a weird experience in a Fringe space. This was initially prompted by the mics being knackered, but actually it helps me roam the space better.

Seven Inch has between 200 and 230 cartoon props (pictured), depending on how you define a 'prop'. It takes me at least two hours to rebuild the set every day. Speaking of which... Must stop writing coz I've got some cartoons to organise.

Find more about Fat Roland: Seven Inch on the Chortle website.

#SevenInch diary day one: I nearly broke an audience member

Show one done! Clunk click, what a trip! I've finally brought my show for The Lowry to the Edinburgh Fringe.

It's the day before the Fringe actually starts, so this felt like a preview. It was good to feel out the space, and I'm left with a few improvements for tomorrow which include:

> don't sing the eye-swapping bit
> make sure there's nothing behind Grandmaster Flash and Diana Ross
> find somewhere else for the cake

Not many shows end up with a list like that...

I've made a ridiculous card sandwich board for flyering. People in a shoe shop laughed at me. I popped into a bank later in the day and the clerk asked me if I was that guy from earlier, you know, the one in the stupid tabard.

The lovely Dominic Berry came to my show. A joke about Seal made him laugh so hard, I thought he was going to explode. The most joyful moment of my Fringe so far. Get more joy by seeing his show, starting tomorrow.

This was the first of 13 shows and I'm going to savour every one. Follow my daily Seven Inch exploits here.

#SevenInch diary day 0: buzzing audience

Hello. My name is Fat Roland and I run a record shop.

Not really. This is, however, the premise of my third Edinburgh Fringe show, taking place from August 1st to 13th.

Seven Inch was originally commissioned by The Lowry for Week 53 festival in 2018. The opportunity to put on a comedy theatre show in a place with such incredible resources and creative people was amazing. They are, in short, flipping boss.

This re-edited Fringe version of the show is designed for a smaller space with minimal tech. Things will feel more up-close and personal, especially with me flinging props all over the place.

Will people turn up? Will I remember all my lines? Will the audience be abducted by wasps? There's only one way to find out. Day 1 of the show is tomorrow.

Here's the link to Fat Roland: Seven Inch. If you're up in Edinburgh, do come and see the show - there's nothing else like this at the Fringe, believe me.

Fat Roland: Seven Inch

Hey look, it's an actual show!

Fat Roland: Seven Inch at the Edinburgh Fringe
Aug 1st to 13th 13:15 (1 hour)
Comedy (spoken word, absurdist)
Laughing Horse @ The Newsroom - The Basement (Venue 93)
Show details here

In the last record shop still standing, Manchester comic Fat Roland re-examines his life through not-so-teenage kicks, surrounded by forgettable (and unforgettable) pop music. Amid the cobwebbed racks and fading seven-inch singles, he faces his 45th birthday alone – when a new opportunity comes knocking, will Roland pack up his gramophone? A five-star, one-idiot commission for The Lowry, Salford, adapted especially for the Edinburgh Fringe. ‘A comedic onslaught of musical puns, cultural references and audience interaction.’ ***** (UpstagedManchester.com). ’A funny, silly and entertaining show that comedy and music fans will love.’ **** (TheReviewsHub.com).

Seven Inch at the 2019 Edinburgh Fringe

My third Edinburgh Fringe show will debut on August 1st 2019, running for 14 dates as part of the Laughing Horse free festival.

I'm adapting my Lowry show Seven Inch, turning a grand theatre production into something more up-close and personal suitable for the Fringe. I will be able to see the whites of your nostrils.

The show is set in the last record shop still standing, in which I examine life through not-so-teenage kicks. Actually, it's an excuse for me to be silly for an hour, show off stupid cartoons, and to infect your brain with forgettable (and unforgettable) pop music.

It's not been officially announced yet, but how could I not share this video with you?

A whole Seven Inches of reflections

I did a theatre show. I did a big thing on a stage and, amazingly, people came.

After two Edinburgh Fringe shows and a stack of spoken word / comedy performances, it was great to expand my own brand of cartoon stupidity to a larger stage. My third show Seven Inch was a surreal and silly story about a failed record shop, which happened to be a 3D cartoon. The four performances, commissioned by The Lowry, were part of their Week 53 festival for the creatively curious.

What an absolute joy it was. 160 people on the opening night, a five star review, and a riotous closing performance on Friday in which I lost my temper at the audience. All acting of course - in real life, I have the temper of a ketamined sloth on holiday.

It was also a fantastically rewarding experience to collaborate with proper clever theatre people, especially stage manager Mark Croasdale who, I suspect, is an actual angel. Next time I meet him, I'll check for wings.

I'm not quite sure I can process how big of an experience this was just yet. I'm writing this in bed by yapping into my phone. Maybe I just need some sleep, and to get my blogging and social life back. A touch of normality, and some space to reflect.

Then what? It would be great to go on tour with my little record shop show. For now, though... to bed.

A bit of showing off plus added VMTs

What's Fat Roland up to? Where is he hiding? Why is he wearing that tutu?

I've been up to lots of things, reader. Here's a bit of an update. I'm aware I've been too busy to blog about music (catch my Twitter feed if you want to hear more from me, or read my column in Electronic Sound), so I'll pepper this news with Vague Music Thoughts (VMTs).

I've mostly been prepping for my show at The Lowry, which is fast approaching so you'd best bag tickets quickly. I've added a couple of extra dates, so you've no excuse to miss it. Unless you're a million miles away. Or in another dimension. Or a dog and therefore have no concept of theatre shows. Here's me in my performance space...

VMT: The Prodigy's Music For A Jilted Generation is a cracking album. I know the one after that got all the plaudits and number one singles, but cor, it's a belter.

I compered a scratch show at Waterside in Sale, in which thesps try out new ideas on a crowd. Nights like this are always wonderfully messy, and if compered right, a real joy for the audience. Plenty of new faces too at Bad Language - packed as usual, with the brilliant Deanna Rodger headlining.

VMT: Boards of Canada's Music Has The Right To Children turned 20 this month. One of those albums I remember hearing for the first time. Those detuned chords. So good.

I popped to the Lake District to perform at Verbalise. Lovely crowd, and I spent some time scuttling through the Serpentine woods looking for adventures. I found a massive caterpillar so I ran away.

VMT: Have a listen to Jon Hopkins' new stuff. Emerald Rush is all dirty and squishy and uplifting. I'll embed it below.

Finally, I have a track on a compilation album. There's a robot-themed CD with the latest Electronic Sound, and you can find my Hounds of Hulme track Rise Of The Dead Robots alongside Devo, Meat Beat Manifesto and John Foxx. This is quite a big thing, really, so I should have led with this. Ah well. Too late now. Have some Jon Hopkins...

VMT: Music's good, innit.

How do you write a theatre show? #SevenInch vlog 4

How the heck do you write a theatre show? I've come up with an amazing hack. Here's how to write a one-person theatre production instantly, with as little effort as possible.

Ahem.

This is a roundabout way of saying my two-date Week 53 festival run at The Lowry is now a four date run. Pilter some lovely new Fat Roland: Seven Inch tickets here.

Fat Roland: Seven Inch - tickets on sale now

I'm doing a show at the Lowry theatre in Salford, and you should come. I don't care if you're reading this in China. You should definitely come.

The show is called Seven Inch, and it's my third solo show. Here's the blurb:

Surrounded by a set built entirely from cartoons, Fat Roland’s one-man show is a hilarious and touching spoken word comedy about music, loneliness and not-quite-teenage kicks.

This all came about because I won a national pitch for inclusion on the theatre's Developed With scheme. I get to do two nights as part of the Lowry's Week 53 festival, and I get extra stuff like a special hat, access to a secret shark pit, and the ability to drop buttered toast the wrong way round and still pick it up and eat it.

It's going to be mega, and if you buy tickets now, I'll totally keep a picture of you in my wallet forever, and not in a creepy way. Okay, In a SLIGHTLY creepy way.

#SevenInch: Buying some Ed Sheeran from a record shop

I want to keep a video diary. A totally accurate video diary.

So I did this.

It's a Seven Inch video diary in which I, Fat Roland (me), talk about something for a minute, In this first edition, I go to a record shop to buy a song by Ed Sheeran. All the cartoons are by me.

The audio's a bit loud, so watch those delicate ears of yours.

Fats at the Lowry: my last day at the Edinburgh Fringe

I probably should tie off these Edinburgh Fringe witterings with a nice big bow.

On the last day attending shows at the Fringe, I saw Sofie Hagen. She was really good, with plenty of warnings about the power of men in family units. I then popped off to see 'Parsley', which was by Michael Brunström and it was all about parsley. He even had someone making parsley sauce.

I decided to end my Fringe experience with Transit, a big ole circus performance with lots of people jumping about. You'd think I'd find no inspiration for my own show here, but even that had structure and audience interaction and oodles of light and shade. After 20 shows in three days (technically three days and four hours), I became an expert in picking apart the building blocks of the stuff I was seeing.

Performance elements I liked throughout my time in Edinburgh:

> Unpredictability. Brian Gittins's volatility on a double decker bus as he allowed the audience to almost ruin the show is something that will stay with me for a long time.

> Failure. It was okay if things went wrong. Some phone responses during Siri seemed to misfire, and the balloon-throwing finale at Tape Face missed a beat because the 'victim' didn't follow his instructions. Indeed, the circus performers made mistakes. Doesn't matter. The ideas still worked.

> Generosity. From John Luke Roberts' ramshackle props to Joe Morpurgo's frenzied hijacking of his audience, my favourite moments were when the performer seemed to give abundantly to the audience. The ideas and jokes came quickly.

And things that turned me off:

> Just watching. I was less keen on performances that seemed a static, in which we were only onlookers. It wasn't so bad, though, if there were interesting things to look at - or if the performer(s) was a powerhouse.

> Laziness. By this, I mean, ideas that weren't explored enough. Bolting a theme onto already-written routines, or ideas that didn't go far enough. Wasted opportunities. Not that there was much of this - overall, I'm very happy with the shows I chose to attend this year.

I've been back from Edinburgh for a couple of days. I've been in a bit of a comedown funk, which is probably natural. I've had the Will Smith single 'Wild Wild West' going around my head. Which, as I commented on a friend's Facebook feed, is a tragedy. This is the curse of Will Smith. Despite 'Men In Black', 'Summertime', 'Miami', 'Boom Shake The Room', Gettin' Jiggy Wit It' AND the Fresh Prince theme, his weakest hit 'Wild Wild West' will always be the one that sticks.

Poor guy.

This is the kind of thing I dwell on when I'm on a Fringe comedown.

This Edinburgh Fringe trip was an attempt to gain inspiration for my new show for The Lowry, which will premiere in May. Read more about all that here.

Fats at the Lowry: meeting a dog at the Edinburgh Fringe

I came to the Edinburgh Fringe to chug Windowlene and get inspired. And I'm fresh out of Windowlene.

Today got me fired up about my own show. I saw seven things and they were all great. Well. Sort of. Anyhoo, it led me to a conclusion about my planning process, which I shall share at the end of this blog post.

I caught a bunch of stand-up comedians. Tony Law was in typical free-wheeling mode with added shadow puppetry... which was also free-wheeling. With this being Tony, the puppetry didn't really need to lead anywhere. It was just fun to watch.

Speaking of not particularly leading anywhere, Simon Munnery's on form this year. 'Renegade Plumber' made me want to central heat my tent. I even got to meet his dog (pictured). Like me, Munnery has props, and he isn't afraid to furrow a particular niche thought, such as his long technical explanation about inventing a new water heater.

I caught Richard Gadd's show during which he runs. A lot. On a running machine. This was a frenetic, dizzying work with a solid emotional payoff. He got a standing ovation. The audio track must have been huge fun to work on - and hugely time consuming. I don't think I'll run in my own show. I'll be doing well if I even stay standing upright.

I've seen some amazing comedy this year, but Brian Gittins had me laughing the most. His show was on the BlundaBus, brought to the Fringe by quickly-expanding newcomer promoter Heroes. Brian was, in short, terrifying. Okay, we were packed in on the top floor of a double-decker bus, but this truly was close-up comedy. Volatile, awkward, and superbly silly.

If Brian Gittins isn't winning the big comedy awards, the system's knacked.

And now non-comedy stuff. I saw a show about Siri. I've never used Siri. Did everyone's phones become sentient? Not quite. Siri, a one-woman and one-digital assistant show, was a compelling tech nightmare that felt very real. Too real. She had two projection screens - one translucent, leading to a deeply sinister big-face moment.

I saw a mind-reading show, which was great fun, but I could have explained everything that happened in the room. Especially as I saw the mind-reader asking the audience questions before the show. "Your name's Sally Smith and you were born on 31st October." The audience goes "wooo". Yeah. He, in disguise, asked her. She was next to me in the queue. Pah.

Luke Wrights Frankie Vah was an accomplishment. Effectively, it's a one-hour poem disguised as theatre. The narrative was bound in 1980s left wing politics, with all the frustration, fire and fury that entailed. At one point he acted out someone performing at their first open mic night - whimpers of recognition from me.

What else? Puppetry, plumbing, running, bus, big-face, fakery and fire. I think that's it. Enough for one day.

I've had numerous thoughts about my own show today. I need to work harder. I need to be better. I need to match my game with all the amazing people I've seen. But most of all, I'm left with one over-riding thought:

There are no rules. I've seen naked Chaucer, a fake Q&A, a tape-faced man, a treadmill tragedy and I've thrown raisins into Brian Gittins' face. There are simply no rules. Just do what works for you.

I'd imagine that's Simon Munnery's dog's mantra for life too.

I've more Fringe to go, but I'm taking it easier today. I may catch one show. Maybe three. To be honest, I'm now desperate to return home and do show writing. Stay tuned.

(This blog post is dedicated to Domino, the wonderful woof-dog who is my boarding companion during my stay in Edinburgh. Hello, Domino, if you're reading.)