It is a relief to return to the Hive and be in a room that is not filled with the… aroma of cider mixed with vomit. Poor Alex Kealy, it’s a tough way to start. Lucky for Eric Rushton, he’s allowed to jump straight right in sans Febreeze spray.
Eric fits in the middle of the barrel of how I fill the Edinburgh schedule - not a complete unknown quantity, not an annual tradition, but an act I’ve seen before that I will happily make time for in a gap in the timetable.
He also nicely fits a niche in our schedule of being comparatively low energy. After a few days of Dad and Sue Gray and Luke Rollason, to have a nice gentle hour of stand up is quite the tonic - all things existing, as they must, in light and shade. The time slot could have been slightly earlier in the day, maybe swapped with Sam Lake, for the ideal energy to caffeine consumption ratio, but we move.
This low energy is not to suggest a lack of quality or engagement - Eric is deceptively charismatic and has an excellent eye for both jokes and understated structure. The show zips along quite nicely, maybe one of the shows I’ve itched for a wristwatch that isn’t there the least, which after three days of comedy is a very high compliment indeed.
As with many of the shows we go to where there’s not an immediately obvious built-in fanbase, it’s really, really lovely to see shows I wouldn’t expect to be busy be busy. Maybe this is a function of being here a week later in the run than we normally are, but shows are filling up more, presumably through word of mouth. Long may it continue.