In a meme-dominated era, half the country seems to fancy themselves comedians on the internet. But though Twitter offers users the possibility of fleeting fame for one good gag, social media stars fall as quickly as they rise. And as the pros like Gary Delaney will tell you, sustaining that success is where the real hard graft comes in, from slogging through the touring admin to making sure he writes enough to use online and in live sets.
Solihull's own king of the one-liner is among those who've made the most of the new medium, ideally suited to the pithy, well-formed jokes he favours. But there are difficulties, too. Ahead of his forthcoming stand-up show at the Old Rep Theatre, we spoke to Delaney about the internet, memory palaces and how to craft the perfect show.
“When I started on Twitter back in 2008, nobody was putting jokes on it, and other comics thought I was mad for giving away material for free,” explains Gary. “But I very quickly built up a decent base on there, and when I did my first Edinburgh show in 2010, about a quarter of the tickets were sold to people who had seen my stuff online. Now everybody puts jokes on Twitter, it's nowhere near as effective.”
Being drowned out by Twitterati vying for attention isn't the only pitfall for acreative on social media today. As Twitter use has expanded and his followers have swelled in number to more than 60,000, Delaney's had to be more circumspect about what he shares, so as not to spoil material for his gigs. Moreover, he's had run-ins with other websites publishing his jokes without consent and failing to credit him as the original author.
“Many years ago a comic would have 20 minutes of killer jokes that would serve them for their career. Unless they did them on Saturday night telly, they could carry on using them in the clubs for years and nobody would know or mind because audiences changed so much. Now your best stuff gets burnt really quickly because even if you've never shared it publicly yourself, other people will put it online. It's frustrating, but I think on balance I've probably gained more in marketing than I've lost in material, and ultimately something that forces you to keep writing a junkload of new material helps make you a better writer.”
In the case of a comic who trades on quickfire wordplay, “junkload” might well be an understatement. Each new show contains around 200 jokes sifted out from literally thousands of discarded ideas.
“It takes me about three years to write a new show, so I don't feel any shame in trying to squeeze two years out of a tour! I'm basically always trying to write jokes, though I do it a bit more attentively when I've got to get a new show together. The jokes themselves just come from things I hear - I used to carry a notebook around but now I just jot things down in my phone.
“Every week or two, I'll book myself into a new-material night somewhere - often the Birmingham Glee or the Manchester Comedy Store. Then I'll take my list of ideas, pick maybe 20 or 30 that I think have legs, write them up into proper jokes and read them out on the night to find the best ones. From there, I'll get it down to about the best third, which I'll start dropping in at the beginning of current tour shows, and then I'll probably lose another two-thirds. So it's roughly the best third of the best third that actually end up in the show.”
Writing them is one thing, but remembering 200 unconnected jokes while up on stage without a prompt is quite another. For comedians who tell stories or deal with themes or issues, at least one thought will follow naturally from another. But for a one-liner specialist like Delaney, the pressure's even greater.
“I don't actually have a great natural memory, but I knew a few comics had explored this before, and I read up on memory systems, mainly in a book called Moonwalking with Einstein. You know how on Sherlock he has his 'Memory Palace'? Well, it's exaggerated in that, but they're actually a real thing. It's what the Greeks and the Romans used to use before printing, when academics had to learn these huge amounts of data.
“It's all based on visualisation. The human brain is still a caveman's brain, which is why it's much easier for us to learn locations than numbers and words. So you take what you already know, and you map what you want to learn onto it. When I do a show, every joke is stored in my head as a mental image of different points around my house, beginning with when I wake up in bed in the morning, and ending with when I walk out of my front door. I'm pretty sure every one-liner comic uses some variation on this. It probably takes me about five hours to fully memorise a show, but once you've got it, you have a bit of freedom to move around within that.”
This flexibility is crucial for a stand-up, particularly in terms of playing to different sorts of audiences. Delaney is a firm believer in the idea that a good comedian should be able to perform to different crowds in different sorts of venues.
“For me, there's a certain core of about 70 to 80% of a set that always works and is there for everyone, like a skeleton that you can flesh out with additional material. Some crowds are a bit more arty and prefer things more subtle and highbrow; others like things a bit ruder and darker. Personally I like to have a bit of both because it gives texture to the show, but often I'll lean a bit more one way or the other. The biggest laughs come when an audience finds you 'cheeky', and that's not always going to be the same point.”
Of course, when you're trying to edit down, it helps to be married to a successful comedy colleague. In 2013, Delaney married Sarah Millican, and while testing material out on loved ones is a “wearying” rookie error, having someone to come along with you to new-material nights and give constructive criticism is a definite bonus.
“Generally you already know whether something has worked or not anyway, so the most useful notes are suggestions for how you might fix something that didn't quite work, or even just noticing that the reason a certain joke didn't land was because somebody opened a door at the back of the room and nobody heard the punchline.”
Originally hailing from near Birmingham, and having performed his first professional gig in Moseley, it's perhaps not surprising that the West Midlands (along with his wife's native North East) is among his favourite places to tour.
“Comics always say their favourite crowds are whoever they're trying to sell tickets to, but I do genuinely look forward to Brum, Coventry, Newcastle and Sunderland because they're really fun and up for it. Nobody's so up their own bottom that they take things seriously and get offended, but they're still sharp enough to get something that's a little bit subtler, so that gives you more variety in the sort of jokes you can do.”
Gary Delaney plays the Old Rep Theatre, Birmingham, on Saturday 6 May.
Interview by Heather Kincaid
In a meme-dominated era, half the country seems to fancy themselves comedians on the internet. But though Twitter offers users the possibility of fleeting fame for one good gag, social media stars fall as quickly as they rise. And as the pros like Gary Delaney will tell you, sustaining that success is where the real hard graft comes in, from slogging through the touring admin to making sure he writes enough to use online and in live sets.
Solihull's own king of the one-liner is among those who've made the most of the new medium, ideally suited to the pithy, well-formed jokes he favours. But there are difficulties, too. Ahead of his forthcoming stand-up show at the Old Rep Theatre, we spoke to Delaney about the internet, memory palaces and how to craft the perfect show.
“When I started on Twitter back in 2008, nobody was putting jokes on it, and other comics thought I was mad for giving away material for free,” explains Gary. “But I very quickly built up a decent base on there, and when I did my first Edinburgh show in 2010, about a quarter of the tickets were sold to people who had seen my stuff online. Now everybody puts jokes on Twitter, it's nowhere near as effective.”
Being drowned out by Twitterati vying for attention isn't the only pitfall for acreative on social media today. As Twitter use has expanded and his followers have swelled in number to more than 60,000, Delaney's had to be more circumspect about what he shares, so as not to spoil material for his gigs. Moreover, he's had run-ins with other websites publishing his jokes without consent and failing to credit him as the original author.
“Many years ago a comic would have 20 minutes of killer jokes that would serve them for their career. Unless they did them on Saturday night telly, they could carry on using them in the clubs for years and nobody would know or mind because audiences changed so much. Now your best stuff gets burnt really quickly because even if you've never shared it publicly yourself, other people will put it online. It's frustrating, but I think on balance I've probably gained more in marketing than I've lost in material, and ultimately something that forces you to keep writing a junkload of new material helps make you a better writer.”
In the case of a comic who trades on quickfire wordplay, “junkload” might well be an understatement. Each new show contains around 200 jokes sifted out from literally thousands of discarded ideas.
“It takes me about three years to write a new show, so I don't feel any shame in trying to squeeze two years out of a tour! I'm basically always trying to write jokes, though I do it a bit more attentively when I've got to get a new show together. The jokes themselves just come from things I hear - I used to carry a notebook around but now I just jot things down in my phone.
“Every week or two, I'll book myself into a new-material night somewhere - often the Birmingham Glee or the Manchester Comedy Store. Then I'll take my list of ideas, pick maybe 20 or 30 that I think have legs, write them up into proper jokes and read them out on the night to find the best ones. From there, I'll get it down to about the best third, which I'll start dropping in at the beginning of current tour shows, and then I'll probably lose another two-thirds. So it's roughly the best third of the best third that actually end up in the show.”
Writing them is one thing, but remembering 200 unconnected jokes while up on stage without a prompt is quite another. For comedians who tell stories or deal with themes or issues, at least one thought will follow naturally from another. But for a one-liner specialist like Delaney, the pressure's even greater.
“I don't actually have a great natural memory, but I knew a few comics had explored this before, and I read up on memory systems, mainly in a book called Moonwalking with Einstein. You know how on Sherlock he has his 'Memory Palace'? Well, it's exaggerated in that, but they're actually a real thing. It's what the Greeks and the Romans used to use before printing, when academics had to learn these huge amounts of data.
“It's all based on visualisation. The human brain is still a caveman's brain, which is why it's much easier for us to learn locations than numbers and words. So you take what you already know, and you map what you want to learn onto it. When I do a show, every joke is stored in my head as a mental image of different points around my house, beginning with when I wake up in bed in the morning, and ending with when I walk out of my front door. I'm pretty sure every one-liner comic uses some variation on this. It probably takes me about five hours to fully memorise a show, but once you've got it, you have a bit of freedom to move around within that.”
This flexibility is crucial for a stand-up, particularly in terms of playing to different sorts of audiences. Delaney is a firm believer in the idea that a good comedian should be able to perform to different crowds in different sorts of venues.
“For me, there's a certain core of about 70 to 80% of a set that always works and is there for everyone, like a skeleton that you can flesh out with additional material. Some crowds are a bit more arty and prefer things more subtle and highbrow; others like things a bit ruder and darker. Personally I like to have a bit of both because it gives texture to the show, but often I'll lean a bit more one way or the other. The biggest laughs come when an audience finds you 'cheeky', and that's not always going to be the same point.”
Of course, when you're trying to edit down, it helps to be married to a successful comedy colleague. In 2013, Delaney married Sarah Millican, and while testing material out on loved ones is a “wearying” rookie error, having someone to come along with you to new-material nights and give constructive criticism is a definite bonus.
“Generally you already know whether something has worked or not anyway, so the most useful notes are suggestions for how you might fix something that didn't quite work, or even just noticing that the reason a certain joke didn't land was because somebody opened a door at the back of the room and nobody heard the punchline.”
Originally hailing from near Birmingham, and having performed his first professional gig in Moseley, it's perhaps not surprising that the West Midlands (along with his wife's native North East) is among his favourite places to tour.
“Comics always say their favourite crowds are whoever they're trying to sell tickets to, but I do genuinely look forward to Brum, Coventry, Newcastle and Sunderland because they're really fun and up for it. Nobody's so up their own bottom that they take things seriously and get offended, but they're still sharp enough to get something that's a little bit subtler, so that gives you more variety in the sort of jokes you can do.”
Gary Delaney plays the Old Rep Theatre, Birmingham, on Saturday 6 May.