Daniel McKeon Seems Rather Relaxed About the Whole Thing
He's an excitable boy, at times. You're looking at an Edinburgh-bound Daniel McKeon. Trust me when I say he's one to watch, with beady eyes, because there's just something about this lad.
I’m somewhat jealous of a man who can get away with calling himself Daniel in a world of forced Dan-dardisation. But if you can, why wouldn’t you? Run for the hills, I say, but just don’t blame me if they catch you...
You’re looking at an ambitious Daniel McKeon, bringing his first set of feathered wings to the Edinburgh Fringe. I can’t make definitive predictions, but I can see crowds latching onto him with appreciation-pincers *Latch, latch.* Because he and I freeform chatted for forty minutes, all quite calming and marvellous, like an Indian head massage.
He’s quite the organic character, in his understated way. So, if Daniel can bring half of that endearing, whatever it is he carries on him, along to Edinburgh, he’ll charm the living daylights out of them.
Interview below.
The Interview
What’s it like to be you?
McKeon: What’s it like to be me? Gosh, nobody’s ever asked me that before, especially not recording.
My day has been very low vibrational. I’ve been working from home because all my colleagues are either on holiday or off sick, so the biggest thing I’ve done is shave. I like to keep things chill; nothing in life has to be super deep. Sometimes my brain gets me off track, but only for like 2 seconds and then it’s back on track again.
You went to the doctor, convinced you had ADHD, and they said you didn’t. Is that what you mean by getting off track?
McKeon: Yeah, that’s what my GP said, but I also used to have Bupa (private healthcare), not to flex. *Cushnie chuckled*
I went to a specialist with a list of things that I thought were ADHD related, and one of them was having ill-adjusted reactions to stuff, e.g. weeping at the beautiful sunrise, walking to work in the early morning.
I thought that meant I was very in the moment, but later considered it could be a symptom of something. The specialist hinted that he’d write that I had it if I confirmed that what he was prepared to write was true. So, even though the GP was like, ‘You definitely don’t have it,’ the consultant was almost going, ‘Listen, I’ll tell anyone you have it if you want me to.’ *laughter*
I very much think I do, but it helps just thinking I have it, without an official diagnosis.
McKeon: Do you ever think of your past selves? i.e ‘I wonder what I was thinking when I was 15?’
Me: Oh, I thought you meant past-life regression for a second. I thought you were going to tell me you used to be Napoleon or something.
McKeon: It’s always Napoleon, isn’t it? Napoleon was certainly batsh*t. Wasn’t he married to his cousin?
Me: I’m not sure, but there were a lot of rumours about him. The main one was that he was much shorter than he actually was.
McKeon: He never lived that down, did he?..
“I’ve got to show some respect to Napoleon, because I’m a short fella too, and he showed what we can achieve if you hate yourself enough and it drives you towards domination.”
Me: Speaking of history, this is going to make me sound like I do way too much Research…
McKeon: God forbid! God forbid you do too much research. *laughter*
Me: But I saw you do an old set on YouTube at the Hot Water Comedy Club, where you referred to yourself as having the face of a spoilt Edwardian child. I wanted to mention that there’s a song by The Fall called ‘Spoilt Victorian Child.’
McKeon: Nice! That could be my walk-on music from now on, to really set the vibe. It used to be the material that people would mention to me the most. Like, ‘Oh yeah. You nailed it with that one, you reeeally nailed it. *laughter*
“I’ve got a moustache now, which hasn’t helped at all with the ageing up. I just look like I’m in a Wes Anderson movie.”
How are you turning failure into a lifestyle brand, as your show description states?
McKeon: Okay, so I believe that when we chase success, it’s an ephemeral thing in the distance, but failing is real and ever present.
People feel so bad about the things they mess up on, they stew on it and feel terrible, but I’m like, it’s all we actually have. *laughter* We don’t have time to think about everything that went wrong, because it could have gone right.
“My show argues that you won’t feel better if you get your idea of success.”
It’s quite conceptual for a debut!
McKeon: When I started developing the show, I gave it a kind of placeholder name, Boyboss. I felt it held some intrigue, but I couldn’t think of anything better.
I wanted to make it mean something, so I started reading philosophy books. In the end, I just thought ‘This is a load of horsesh**. I should just say it means boy + boss = Boyboss, and move on.’
Me: Ha-ha, from what I’ve read, it sounds ambitious, which, coming from someone else, might be a snipey comment, but from me, it’s a straightforward compliment.
McKeon: Completely, and…
“The thing is with me, I will always be ambitious. No matter what happens, they’ll say… ‘He was trying SO hard.’”
*Laughter*
McKeon: They can’t take that away from me, whatever comes next.
How would you have fared in Victorian times?
McKeon: Oh! I think I would’ve done well, though it would depend on whether I was a street urchin or a fancy lad. Do you watch lots of Regency period dramas?
Me: Well, I like Rosalie Minnitt.
McKeon: Okay, cool, well, she’s fairly Jane Austen-esque.
There’s always a bloke in those dramas who is clearly the wrong person for the protagonist. They’ll be slightly too boring, slightly sharp of face, sometimes with weird mutton chops, but they look deliberately bad, so the audience knows they’re not the right guy. And I think I’d absolutely crush that role.
*We laughed*
McKeon: ..Just not picking up on any ques, and saying ‘Let’s marry, and I’ll continue to be a tailor.’ I always thought I’d be a shoo-in for that. You take your wins where you can.
If nothing else, getting to throw your sh** out the window would be fun. *Cush-laugh*
Me: It would depend on where you lived, really. If you lived in a big manor, you wouldn’t want to be chucking it into your garden, where there might be loads of carefully trimmed bushes. That’d be a problem. *laughs* But if you lived in an alleyway, and it was going onto the street for other people to deal with…
McKeon: Completely, and then it’s not your problem anymore, and you can take a warm bath afterwards… I wish I knew when sewage systems were invented.
How do you think you’d get on in Victorian times (Dan)?
Me: Terribly. *McKeon laughed* Absolutely terribly, because… I need my ADHD medication.
McKeon: Yeah, because back then, there’d only be electric shock treatment or something.
Me: I would’ve been an alcoholic, I think.
McKeon: Oh yeah, and morphine was hitting the streets, too.
Me: Oh yeah, I would have been… all on the tincture.
McKeon: Ha-ha! I might steal that. ‘All on the tincture’ is great.1
Are you more of a dollop or a sachet?
McKeon: We’re talking sauces, right? I think I’m more of a dollop.
“I’d love to be as chic as a sachet.”
…Y’know, when you get the sachet of wasabi with sushi?2 I think they’re the most elegant thing in life. That being said, adding ingredients to recipes without checking how much I’m supposed to put in has always been a downfall of my cooking, and I love the satisfying splash of just dropping something in there. So, I’m going to have to say dollop.
Excluding this interview, when was the last time you had a nice chat with a stranger?
McKeon: Ha-ha! Aw, what’s really sad is, nothing’s jumping into my m-actually, no! My friend went to the loo at Curve Garden in Dalston, and as I was waiting, a girl wanted to sit down to charge her phone. It transpired that she was going to a jazz show. She was a drummer, and the band she was going to see had rekindled her love of drums.
I asked her what phone battery percentage she’d be comfortable with leaving the house on. For me, it’s around 20% charged, and she said, ‘Oh, like 9%,’ and I just thought, ‘Wow, you live so chaotically. That must be how jazz musicians live.’ I couldn’t do it, but it was sweet to hear her talk about rediscovering a passion.
Another time, I was on the train playing Tetris on my phone, because I love Tetris. The guy behind me was getting very into it, looking over my shoulder, and reacting to how I was doing. After a while, I was saying things like, ‘Oh, them’s the brakes. Sometimes you don’t have the blocks you need.’
How do you feel about buying gifts?
McKeon: It’s one of the sweetest things we do, but the jury’s out on whether I’m any good at it. My family wanted to do Amazon wishlists last Christmas, and I thought. Isn’t the whole point that you’ve chosen something for each other? But I do understand, and I’d rather they like it than have to handle a thing they don’t want.
Me: Clogs.
McKeon: Ha-ha, I’d have to hear the word ‘Clogs’ 4 times before I considered buying them as a gift. They’re famously clumpy and heavy.
Me: If anything, it’d be worse if you bought them for someone and they did wear them.
McKeon: Ha-ha, I’m sure they’d make a fuss of it as well. They’d be like, *clip-clop*, check it out. *laughter* I don’t think I could commit to clogs. I like a comfortable shoe.
“If you see me in an uncomfortable shoe, know that I’m trying something.”
*laughter*
Have you ever tried a cigar?
McKeon: Yes, and I hated it. I don’t think they’re good at all. My dad is a big cigar guy, and he used to hide that he smoked cigarettes when I was a kid, but we would always know, because he’d be like, ‘I’m just going to walk down the side of the house.’ *laughter* And then he’d come back…
Me: In a smoking jacket…
McKeon: Ha-ha, yeah, yeah, holding 4 different lighters. *Laughter*
Now, he gets the cigars out to share. It’s probably an old-world masculinity thing, like, ‘Let’s share a cigar in the back room.’ So, he gave one to each of my brothers and me, and we were all going to each other, ‘Can you help me with this?’ It was like eating ash. Your mouth feels terrible, and it goes all wet. I think it’s kind of gross, honestly. The smoke wouldn’t go down. We were all struggling, and he was smoking Churchill style, puffing away.
Also, in Cuba, I felt I had to give them another go. When in Rome… So, you’d hear people talk of a cigar festival, and you’d go, and it would just be someone’s garage.
Are you good at calming your friends down?
McKeon: I’ve never made them worse. Ha-ha, I think so. I always try to follow through on promises to be supportive. Although I’m not sure if I’m a calming presence. I used to try to solve the person’s problem, but you’ve just got to let them vent. I’m afraid I don’t have any calming techniques to pass on.
Me: I think you’re a calming presence.
McKeon: Thanks, Dan, you’ve caught me on a calm day.
Can you tell me about working in a 1-star pub?
McKeon: Yeah, sure, what do you want to know?
By what metric was it 1-star? Hygiene?
McKeon: Ahhh, you’re testing me now. I think it was hygiene. We had someone important come in, and everyone was doing their best to look busy. Pure uni student apathy allowed that place to operate. Like, sure, it wasn’t good when I dropped a beer keg and it exploded… *laughter* But we didn’t have anything to roll the kegs around with. You were told to drop them from the trap door onto a mouldy mattress.
Me: Wouldn’t all the beer fizz up?
McKeon: Yeah! Ha-ha, but I was just like, ‘If that’s how we do it, that’s how we do it.’ *Laughter*
Can you tell me a funny phrase from your show, Boyboss?
McKeon: Okay, so my actual boss at that pub was previously a Marilyn Monroe impersonator at Butlins. *laughter* So, there’s a part in my routine that goes, ‘There are no Mr Presidents to sing Happy Birthday to in Skegness.’ *Laughter* And it never gets a laugh. But I keep it in there, because I enjoy the phrasing/the wordplay.
How do you envision your debut Edinburgh show going?
McKeon: Ha-ha-ha, just fine. I’ve been told not to expect too much from a debut show. If I could get a couple of reviews or be included in a few lists, that would be cool. But really, I just want people to come and see it, and I think I’m on track to do that.
Me: I think the promo photos will really sell it. The shot with you poking your arse out is super funny. *Daniel chose not to send me that one for inclusion, but it is on Instagram.*
McKeon: Thank you, my wife was like, ‘You have to use this as the main poster photo,’ and I was like, I think it’s too sexual. *Laughter* There’s a raw sexuality to that photo.
Me: Yeah, they’d expect an extra sassy person to turn up.
McKeon: I can’t deliver on whatever that show is selling. But I had to post it, and it got the most traction of anything I’ve tried to do. *Laughter* I’m like, ‘Come on guys, I’m not a piece of meat. I have thoughts and dreams!’
It’s true, he does have thoughts and dreams.
…It’s rare for me to transcribe an interview like it’s a theatre script, but it means something special has happened. Post-structuralists analysing the blog refer to such occurrences as ‘A sign of greatness.’ Which is a joke for so few people, it was barely worth making. I can hear the digital crickets, so, erm, ask ChatGPT.
*Befogged* Ah, yes, Edinburgh. Skip the queue for McKeon by buying tickets here. There’ll probably still be a queue. Who knew he had an Instagram, too?
Every comment, like and share saves me from despair.
I could omit the compliments, but I don’t; I type them out.
Vaguely. Never have I ever, or will I ever, try sushi. Do you understand? Do. You. Understand?
Great read Dan! x
Great interview, 😂😂