Fats at the Lowry: Morpurgo's done it again

I'm farting about at the Edinburgh Fringe, but it's not entirely for pleasure. I'm on the look out for inspiration, information and even the occasional omen for my next show. These blog posts are acting as a virtual think board as I traipse around Scotland's streets.

I started today with some proper theatre: 'Action At A Distance' was a play about a data analyst and a plumber betting on terrible things. They took drone strikes, cancer and financial desperation - all the fun things (!) - and filled the hour with humanity and levity.

Despite the horrific subject matter, the harshest brutality was in the acidic mother / daughter relationship: a volley of verbal drone strikes. It reminded me that human stories resonate most strongly, especially in a domestic environment - home is where the hurt is. Oh and they drew on the floor, which gave me ideas.

I then saw a standup show and an improv show. Both shall remain nameless because this is not a review and being negative isn't the point.

The standup show had a clever gimmick which made me buy the ticket: in reality, it was a straight-down-the-line observational comedy set with the gimmick tacked on. If only it had been braver.

I've not seen much improv, but the improv show left me a little annoyed. When I've seen Paul Merton do improv, he grabs a lot of ideas from the audience. We're given the sense of driving what happens on stage. With today's show, they did this once at the start: we chose a word that had little consequence to the actions on stage. And then they acted for an hour. Was the whole thing improvised or was it just a badly written play? With no further input from us, it was hard to feel invested.

Lesson: involve the audience.

'Dust' was great. It's a play by Milly Thomas in which a woman observes the aftermath of her own suicide. The stage set was entirely colourless, a brutal purgatory allowing space for metaphorical and literal self-examination. The sound design was immense, with crackles and rumbles of doom providing contrast to melodic moments of emotion later on. Make a note in your audio-ideas book, Fats,

I'm running out of time. What else did I see today? Oh yes - Beach Hunks, a sketch group with the sort of chemistry that makes you want to be their mate. Also, I am their mate, so I'm biased, but 'Hog Wild' is a great show.

Tape Face! I finally saw Tape Face. This was my first BIG show of the Fringe: clearly with a budget much bigger than mine. He was astonishing: sweet, silly, surprising and with a truly spiriting finale. It reminded me that it's worth studying the old arts: clowning, mime, the jesters. And get a team around you that can absolutely nail the audio and visual cues.

Last and by all means most, I saw Joseph Morpurgo's 'Hammerhead'. I don't want to say too much, and it's best to go into the show without knowing what to expect. His 2015 show 'Soothing Sounds For Baby' remains the best thing I have seen at the Edinburgh Fringe: it became an inspirational template for the show I am writing now. When I plan through what I want to do with my show, I think of 'Soothing Sounds For Baby'.

His new show 'Hammerhead' is a staggering triumph, and if you were unlucky enough to miss 'Baby', then let THIS show be your best-thing and your template and your whatnot. My main take-away from Joe Morpurgo? There are no rules. There simply are no rules. Just do what you love.

Now that Morpurgo's nailed it again, I might as well go home. But I can't. I've more things to see today. Stay tuned.

Fats at the Lowry: Off to the Edinburgh Fringe

I'm at the Edinburgh Fringe pouring culture down my face. I've decided to be poncy and give some kind of artistic reflection as I attend gubbins at this year's Fringe. Not reviews. Just (half) thoughts made of the mouldier bits of my brain.

I'm hoping to return from the Fringe with a vague mulch of inspiration for my #DevelopedWith commission for the Lowry. That means exiting shows and taking immediately to Twitter. What you're about to read over the next few days are those tweets mangled blog posts.

My first stop was John Luke Roberts's Look on My Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair! (All in Caps). Like many others, I returned to see Roberts following his previous show about a balloon-man monster. Yeah, I said it. A balloon-man monster.

This was one-man show with costumes and, er, non-costumes, and so well written. His Chaucer piece is perfection, every wayward syllable a joy as he acts out a kind of amphetamined Officer Crabtree. He's got super silly props (beard scroll) and very natural audience interaction: we easily come onside with him.

Boy, that lad can write. Not afraid of a corny punchline either: his confidence carries it. Lovely sense of the macabre too.

Next up was Graham Dixon Is The Narcissist, an exploration of a fictional Russian writer told through layers of personalities. It was silly but oddly heavy, which I put down not to the "Russian gulag" overtones of the subject matter but to the more theatrical set-up: raked seating, stark layout (a single chair) and unforgiving lighting. I wonder how that would feel in, say, The Stand.

Not a band thing but take out, say, half a dozen punchlines and it could be hard work. Thankfully, Dixon had some lovely monologues peppered with Pythonesque surreality, and a neat way of hurling an exercise book across the stage.

Turning my thoughts to my own show - which is what this Edinburgh trip is all about - the simplicity of his set confirmed in my mind that I'd want my show to have a lot to look at. Plenty of treats for the eyes. Throwaway visual gags everywhere.

Speaking of throwaway visual gags, I saw Sam Simmons too. Always a favourite. Far fewer props this time but plenty of delightful non-sequiturs. His badminton piece with an audience member is as good as anything he's done before. (No spoilers here, but it's so sharp and very Sam.)

Both him and Dixon played with voiceover: the extra voice as antagonist in Dixon's case or as reinforcement in Simmons' case as he takes against the audience. I liked that muchly, and is a device that is particularly useful for my show.

More to come - click here for my other Lowry prep tweeting.

Konx-om-Pax's new confection has me sulking about sweets

I knew this world was going to pot when I realised there were two kinds of Refreshers: the sugary discs in pastel colours and the chewy bars that take your teeth out.

You can't have two sweets with the same name. We don't have a Mars Bar that's made of sickly goo and a Mars Bar made from liquorice razor blades. There's only one type of Mars Bar, albeit in different shades. And there should only be one type of Refresher.

Not that I'm totally going to hold that against Konx-om-Pax, whose new EP Refresher is a welcome follow-up to last year's Caramel. The confectionery-consumed knob twiddler leads the EP with the cheery Cascada. Love that ploddy bass drum. Listen below.

A message for all Nazis and generally bad people

Seriously now. Come on, world.

Fats at the Lowry: Turning my brain clutter into spiders or something

Large pieces of paper. Back of a door. One big fat marker pen.

I've been doing spider diagrams or thought charts or brain bursts or whatever you call them. This particular mind splurge is about an imaginary record shop. And not a good one either, hence the dangerous trip hazard and tired merchandise.

This part of my planning for my 2018 show. There are other idea-splats like this, although all the words are less exciting. The central oval's not as good either. This 'record shop' one is definitely my favourite.

It's quite nice to get thoughts out like this because if I empty my brain, it doesn't rattle when I walk down the street. No-one wants a clatter-headed Fat Roland careening along a pavement, all the thoughts spilling out onto passers-by.

I'm taking a few days out to focus on show writing. Turn those thinky-maps into something more useful. Watch this back-of-a-door-sized space.

Listen to Bicep's Glue - it'll stick with you

I've been scribbling a bunch of reviews for Electronic Sound today, which means I've been pouring music down my ears even more than usual.

One earworm has stayed with me: Bicep's Glue. This track from their debut album Bicep is worth a listen if you like Moderat and Four Tet. It does the sad-but-happy thing really well.

I also realise I've just missed a metaphor about glue and memorable tracks sticking to you. Dammit. This happens when I write a bunch of reviews to deadline: my ability to write creatively goes completely hatstand banana.

Below Glue, listen to fellow album track Aura.

Brian Eno: music for infuriated garden tool instruments

Brian Eno's early solo work has been reissued on fancy vinyl. That's new 45rpm remasters of Another Green World, Here Come The Warm Jets, Before And After Science and Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy). I call them Anothaftermountjets for short.

These albums came out shortly after I was born, and although I've heard dribbles of them over the years, it's been interesting to dive into them properly for the first time. Listening to the whole lot, in order. It's definitely the sound of Eno transitioning from Roxy Music into something much wibbly woo. That's a technical music term, by the way.

Also, Another Green World is an anagram of 'angered trowel horn'.

It's a strange feeling to step into Bowie-era Eno. When everyone had hair like the standup comedian Paul Foot.

You can read my review of the reissues in Electronic Sound magazine. If you end up subscribing to the magazine because of this, tweet them at @ElectronicMagUK with the hashtag #angeredtrowelhorn.

Ten things that make life 3% better

In an effort to stop and smell the proverbial roses once in a while, here are ten things I have appreciated recently.

> The start of a new month - even just a week - and the potential that hovers impossibly in the air;

> Friendly and slightly drunk crowds appreciating my panda stories at Kendal Calling;

> Eric Morecambe pretending that the person behind has just goosed him, time after time;

> The sheen on Selected Ambient Works 85-92 that sticks to your brain long after the music has gone;

> Seeing Paul Foot on the back of a truck, realising he was arriving for a gig, going to see the gig, Paul Foot being brilliant;

> The hundreds of extra blog hits from Ukraine the other day, even though it was probably just a bot... hi, Ukraine!;

> Redrawing some of my performance stuff; including secret pockets to make on-stage handling easier;

> The spiky eccentricity of Die Antwoord: I want to be them but also definitely never want to be them, all at the same time;

> Staying off Facebook because it's a time and mood drain;

> Long conversations with friends. Wait. I can't end on this, it's too soppy. Er... The gas station scene in It's A Mad Mad Mad Mad World. That'll do.