We'll always have Kegworth

ComCast Live 2024

I’ve just come down from the Comcast Live weekend in Kegworth.

My trip started on Friday lunchtime; when I miraculously managed to make the 12:05 from St Pancras. Sweaty and grateful, I made my way up the carriage and eventually glimpsed the rebellious curls of my pal Nick Cotton. Not Dot Cotton’s son off Eastenders, a much cooler one.

As I approached, it transpired that two Gen Z’s were in our seats, but I was so relieved to be on the train, that I made a joke about it and a guy sitting two seats in front said: ‘There’s a spare seat next to me’. He seemed familiar. I blurted out: ‘Are you a stand-up?’ ‘Yes’, he replied. Another beautiful bit of serendipity. It was a lovely Scottish comedian called Paul Pirie. We worked out we hadn’t seen each other for about six years.

Nick and I found seats together, and blethered away excitedly like two people who know that they are part of something important. As the train pulled into Leicester, Paul came up to say goodbye. I grasped his hand and said: ‘So great to see you, Paul. Take care, brother.’ I suddenly felt very sad as I watched the back of his head disappear down the platform. So many connections destroyed by the immoral fuckery of the last four years.

We were met at East Midlands Station by a lovely, young, awake Welshman named David Newman, and my brilliant pal Jonny Woodrow – who was there to meet me as we were recording his first Stop It You’re Killing Me podcast. Jonny drove us to a lovely place about 20 minutes away called Bawdon Lodge Farm where he’d pre-ordered delicious bacon butties for us. This was definitely a place for the “silver pound”, as evidenced by the few tables of ladies in sensible fleeces and comfortable shoes, eating coffee and walnut cake; gossiping about how Jean had missed Alan Titchmarsh opening the local gardening centre because she had to have a bunion removed.

We found a little nook, with two comfy chairs and a table in the middle, and after adjusting levels, Jonny pressed record and, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights, and the subtle clatter of tea cups, we nattered about comedy, America, courage, free speech, big ideas, Russia… you can have a listen here.

After the recording, we drove to the Kegworth Hotel and Conference Centre where the Comcast event was being held. You know the hotel Alan Patridge stays in, that’s pretty much it. I kept expecting to hear a voice shouting ‘Lynn!’ across the carpark. To my dismay, they seem to be advertising the Net Zero bollocks.

Back of the Net (Zero).

There was a already a low hum of excitement in the air. I said hello to Nick and Steve the awesome Comedy Podcast Live boys, who created the events and do all the tech to ensure the sound, lighting and staging is top notch and not just a bit of carpet in the corner of a pub with a couple of lights from B&Q. They told me that Phil Zimmerman, who was due to compere the weekend, hadn’t managed to get the train and wasn’t sure if he would make it, so I offered to MC. I haven’t compered in a while, so I’m a bit rusty, but I have hosted so many comedy clubs and events over the years, it’s almost second nature. I learnt so much about compering watching seasoned comedians when I was starting out.

My late husband Terry, who was also my manager, had run two comedy clubs in the 90s and early 2000s, and I have him to thank for giving me the magic checklist that all good MCs have in their head. I’ll never forget his wise words: ‘Compere literally means you are the ‘father’ of the gig’. The compere’s job is to make sure the audience is together as a group, and ready for the acts; tell a few jokes to warm the crowd up, but don’t be self-indulgent and do long sections of new stuff that risks killing the room. You’re tilling the soil ready to plant new seeds, so doing long bits without laughs is like laying concrete instead of mulch. It’s also very much the compere’s job to agree with the acts how long they’ve been booked to do. New acts might be really nervous, so don’t tell them ‘don’t fuck up’ just before they go on, or say ‘how do you think that went?’ straight afterwards. Only petty, insecure cunts do that. Finally, the closing act or headliner will thank you in spades for keeping as tight a ship as possible. Trust me, it’s a job that took a few years to get right, whilst hopefully making it my own. I do also love the freedom of doing a 25 minute set.

For what it’s worth, I think Dick Delingpole is the perfect compere for Comcast, but he was away for his birthday. We were literally Dickless.

A few familiar faces were already there: my dear pals Jules and Dek aka Mrs Jules and Mr Jules. Dek is the man behind President Trump on my TNT show. He’s a properly funny man, and I’m doubled over with laughter when we get going. They’d driven down from Dundee. It takes six and a half fucking hours. That’s how special Kegworth has become, and this is only the second one. Charlotte the Baroness was there as always, and her partner Wayne who was stage managing the weekend. God bless them both as they’ve truly gone over and above to drive these Comcast events and bring people together. Don’t forget, there are still thousands who may feel alone, or confused, and Kegworth provides a place to be amongst like-minded souls.

I like to have personal walk-on music to start a show, so I chose to come down the aisle from the back of the room Cossack dancing to Boney M’s Rasputin. Natch. Of course I made the mistake of doing one final Kalinka slut-drop on stage, and it took a while to get up due to severe thigh burnage. I had a lively chat with the audience, including ‘Little Carol’ – who I realised I had met at 3am when me, Bob, Keith, Kerry Murray, and Phil from Oracle Films were sat outside drinking whiskey out of Bob’s snazzy flask at Jam for Freedom (aka Scam for Freedom).

After some titting about (that’s a technical term),I introduced the first section of the night: Sonia Poulton chatting to guests. There was a quick blast of the theme from Parkinson and Sonia came on and sat on one of the three chairs. I was introduced as the first guest. Thighs still shaking from my Cossack over exuberance, I sat down on one of the two chairs on the opposite side of the stage. We talked about all sorts of things including my departure from TNT. It was nice to explain to a room full of people my reasons for going in person. It actually had very little to do with my personal treatment and more to do with treatment of others and the fact that if they could behave in such a toxic way to my fellow hosts and crew then what would stop them eventually doing the same to me. It was a decision based purely on gut feeling and, as I explained in my previous article, a desire to do a Jerry Maguire and ‘scoop up the goldfish’. I wanted to leave behind the established acceptance about how show business is permitted to treat people.

Francis O’Neill then joined me on stage and Sonia asked about the Yellow Boards and my arrest outside the Covid Inquiry last June when Francis and I held up yellow boards behind Tom Harwood while he was doing his piece to camera. After our chat with Sonia, there were other brilliant guests including: Charlotte and Scotty, and Nick Cotton. At the same time as the show was going on, I was ducking out to record some podcasts in the special ComCast podcast room, which I will hopefully be releasing sometime after Easter.

In the second half, a really good character comedian called Intel Lady who was also on last year, was on the bill. The excellent stand-up Wilson Milton was also on. I hadn’t seen Wilson since we did a gig up in Hull a few years ago. It was great to see him and I managed to record a fantastic podcast with him before he drove home. He’s properly awake and very funny. I didn’t see the end as I was busy recording another podcast, but apparently Phil Zimmerman ended the night dressed in a pigeon costume. Unfortunately, comedy genius often goes unrecognised in a person’s lifetime.

Full of Jack Daniels, Space Raiders and a bubble of love for the assorted humans who had come to this crazy weekend, I eventually crashed into bed at 3:30am.

Saturday morning saw me rising just before the end of breakfast. My hungover nostrils had caught a delicious whiff of the cooked breakfast wafting up the corridor. Jules saved me a plate of bacon, sausage and toast for me. Then it was onto recording more podcasts. Francis O’Neill gave an excellent talk that was followed by the superb Miri Finch and David Kurten in conversation.

After a short break, I did my bit - I decided to tell parts of my arrest story and I showed the original GB News/Harwood footage you can watch below, when me and Francis appear. If you watch and listen closely you can hear me shout: “Stop lying, Tom” and “Lying bastard.”

There was also the first live screening of The Great Wall of Cunts. It was really satisfying to hear reactions from a full room of people, in real time. It made the planning and standing around in freezing temperatures by a wall in Richmond worth it.

Nick Cotton gave an amazing presentation, and the HOPE festival girls also gave a talk. Later in the evening Intel Lady, Mad Mix and Trevor Johns performed (Trevor did a couple of great original songs – fab guitar player!). The brilliant Andrew Lawrence closed the show with a smashing set that had everybody rocking with laughter.

Natalie (the wonderfully brave, wise friend aka Trauma into Truth), her brilliant husband Jonny, their beautiful daughter Elethea, and cute doggie Bo had also arrived – having had a car break-down nightmare on the Friday evening. After my bit on Saturday evening, me and Jonny Woodrow snuck up to their hotel room to drink some vino and discuss ideas for the Goodness, Beauty and Truth crusade they’ve been mulling over since my tweet on March 5th:

There needs to be an urgent revolution of thought in the West, starting with facing the fact that it is us and only us who have destroyed ourselves. We abandoned all that is good, beautiful and true, and chose evil, ugly and false.

Who's with me?

Natalie, Jonny and Jonny have got some incredible ideas.

Watch this space.

On Sunday, I recorded my last pods with Nick and Jen (aka Intel Lady) and then I watched the final panel with Miri Finch, Nick Cotton, Jonny Vedmore, Francis O’Neill and Shaun Finch from UNN. It was absolutely brilliant and was a really fascinating mix of perspectives from some great minds. There was a bit of a kerfuffle when Andrew Bridgen’s name cropped up - there was a lady in the front row who was a Bridgenette – but despite understandably passionate debate, it remained respectful.

I decided to stay over another night, as there was only a rail replacement bus service back to London. I had vivid images of a three and a half hour journey on a packed, smelly, claustrophobic bus. As it turns out, it was the right decision because according to Francis that’s exactly what it was like. We were all starving by evening so after the boys have cleared the venue, Charlotte, Wayne, Carl, Steve, and I wolfed a Chinese. It was a deliciously varied meal to end a deliciously varied weekend.

I got back to Londonistan late afternoon on Monday, and immediately recorded an Abi Daily with a gravelly voice that sounded like a combination of Judi Dench and Bonnie Tyler. I was still high on the fumes of the weekend, so it didn’t really matter.

When Tuesday morning rolled around, I felt empty and sad.

There will be more of these ComCast gatherings, and I heartily encourage you all to come along. It is no understatement to say that these events are making history and creating the future. They are not only an opportunity for people to meet each other, they are the places where the flame of debate, free thought, and human connection is kept burning brightly, away from the drafty anti-human window that has opened onto the world.

We’ll always have Kegworth. And Thank Christ for that.

Official postcard for Kegworth Comedy Podcast Live 2024