What Happens When You Have to Go It Alone?
Alex is the unapologetically upbeat musical comedian who nearly gave up and stopped writing. But he took a chance, and went on to win an award. He's bringing his debut hour to Edinburgh.
If you focus all your sincerest efforts on creative pursuits, you are your creativity, in a certain sense. So, what happens when you’re part of a double act, and your creative partner leaves for Australia?.. Hmmm. Well, apparently, it went like this:
A period of confused recuperation.
A return to writing ideas.
A tentative step towards the unknown.
And then, in an otherwise grey sky, a streak of light appeared, in the form of a serious competition win. 2024’s Clap Back to Reality award, decided by audience votes… after 12 rounds of heats. It can only be one man, and he won’t tell me what the secret motivation for his Edinburgh show is, but I do know this: he’ll give it everything he’s got, and he’s got a first and last name: Alex Prescot. Read our interview below.
The Interview
How’s your day been?
Good, yeah. I’ve just been cobbling clips together from some recent street interviews. I’ve been jokingly asking people if England is better than Australia, because the theme of my show is that my double act partner left to live there.
Could you tell me more?
We performed together for about a year. I was saddened that he left, and then the pandemic hit. A few years later, I started performing solo.
Why have you chosen to strike out on your own?
Well, as with lots of double acts and relationships, we wanted to do different things. I’d always performed with other people before going solo. Before the double act, I was acting in the theatre. The idea of doing it on my own made me think, ‘I’ll probably just forget my lines, and there’ll be no one there to save me.’
However, I heard about a competition in Brighton about 4 years ago, and you only had to perform for 5 minutes. At that point, I’d written 3 comedy songs that together amounted to about 5 minutes of material. It went well, and I thought, ‘Okay, I’ll keep going with this.’
“Now, I consider the audience the other half of the double act. We’re creating something funny together.”
How exactly do you tell the audience about the split?
I’m thinking of how much to give away…
It’s structured like a breakup story, and I tell it like I’m getting over a breakup. I say to the audience, ‘double acts, or couples, you might call them’, and ask people if anything odd has ever happened with their relationships, and how close they are with their best friends.
“There’s also a moment where I have a phone call with the double act partner, and get an audience member to come and play him. It all culminates in revealing my possible ulterior motive for the show, but I won’t ruin that.”
That’s very intriguing, I like that.
*He laughed*
It seems quite theatrical what you’re doing, can you tell me about your passion for theatre?
Yes, when I went to university, I wanted to be an actor, so of course I took French and Spanish. *We laughed* The ones at school who wanted to be actors, we all went off and did other things at university first. But I wanted to act, write and direct. I studied at Durham University and was able to experiment with all 3 through theatre groups.
I actually met my double act partner in an acting class. Eventually, I found that in comedy, it was very normal to combine those roles, and be an actor, writer and director.
“I’m in my early 30s now, but in my 20s I saw loads of theatre in London and made use of every young person’s discount scheme.”
Now, a lot of my reference points come from theatre. Plus, my real-life partner is a theatre director, so I continue to experience that world through them. I also use my knowledge of theatre to direct other people’s stand-up shows. There are many parallels, and I find the crossover very satisfying.
Your performances have been described as ‘warm and fuzzy’ and as having ‘an insurmountable happy energy’.1 Where does that come from?
“It’s always been my default on stage to big people up and be positive.”
Additionally, last year, I was developing the show in Edinburgh, with a regular 10:20 morning slot. So, I was probably most people’s first show of the day, and they may have just woken up. There was an element of getting people in the mood for comedy, which influenced the show’s vibe.
As I started improvising more on stage, I preferred bigging people up and making sure we were all having fun.
How do you write your songs?
It varies, but sometimes life presents these ideas. For example, I received some funny and outrageous feedback from an audition, and the feedback became the first line of a song. The judge said I was ‘better looking from a distance’.
That’s shocking! But I can see how it would make a great idea for a comedy song.
Yeah, I definitely thanked the comedy Gods when that happened.
In improv, they talk about finding ‘shiny things,’ i.e. anything that feels unusual and interesting. If an observation comes to mind that feels like it might be a ‘shiny thing,’ I message it to myself on Facebook and check those messages at the end of the month. A few of those seeds of ideas will tend to become the songs that I write.
“I also improvise lots of songs based on my conversations with the crowd. Again, if one of the conversations reveals something shiny that might get a laugh, it’s enough to take me into a song.”
As the show is based on the story with my double act partner, I’ve been asking audiences questions that link to the idea of a breakup, to find similar experiences, which make it into the songs.
“I bring the audience into the story by including their experiences.”
What does music do for your comedy?
I’m finding that having musicality in my comedy allows me to accentuate the timing that all comedians play with; I can emphasise the funny parts. The music takes it to a higher, more ridiculous place.
You also get a bit of goodwill because they’re watching you play an instrument proficiently. So, they’re more open to laughter and enjoyment.
Which musicians are you influenced by?
Musical comedy-wise, everybody knows about Bo Burnham, but I was there first… No, not really, but I did see him perform his show, What, in Edinburgh in 2013 and was blown away. I love the intricacy of his song lyrics.
Tim Minchin influences my piano playing, too.
“Growing up, I was influenced by Billy Joel and David Bowie, because they’re fab to play on the piano and sing.”
I realised that I could improvise around the chords whilst singing, which I’m sure other comics do, but far fewer than those who only improvise the lyrics.
How does your show stand out?
Firstly, it’s at 11:45 in the morning and very few shows are.
But also, I combine musical comedy with my upbeat persona. I MC lots of gigs, and I love meeting audiences and chatting with them. Plus, the show is theatrical, thanks in part to my director, Ben Target. There are cushions on set, and at one point, we had secret missions and fun games to make it playful and show-like.
“My show is an unapologetically positive and upbeat kick start to your day.”
It’ll be one of the few comedy performances at that time of day that isn’t a children’s show, although it’s suitable for ages 12 and up, but it won’t make you spit out your coffee. However, last year I had some babies breastfeeding, and it’s probably not aimed at them. *laughter*
How do you tailor each performance to the audience? Paint the scene.
The improv takes me off on tangents, but we keep coming back to the central spine of the story. Then, at the end, I put together everything that we explored in the songs along the way. I make something that feels bespoke to that audience.
“I’m most satisfied with my performances when I can draw a moral or a conclusion, based on everybody’s contributions.”
I’m pulling together a message as to what spending our hour together meant, and that should be different every day.
How many dates are you doing in Edinburgh?
26… I’ve got one day off on a Monday, and I’m also doing a musical called A Jaffa Cake Musical.
“Last year, I accidentally scheduled a day off and then realised I was supposed to be teching a show that day, which was a mistake.”
*We laughed*
How long would you survive in a barrel of love?
Is that a euphemism? Or is it something I should know about?
It can be a euphemism, but it’s not something you should know.
Well, if there’s no food or water, biologically I’d perish, but y’know, I’ve done youth theatres. I can get in with a ‘happy clappy, we all love each other type vibe’. *We laughed* So, longer than some. Some would go, ‘This is awful.’
I think with a barrel of love, you’re in the perfect place, but it’s a bit uncomfortable.
*He laughed* I suppose it depends whether the lid’s on. *We laughed*
Next question, would you make a good sea monster?
…No. *Dan laughed* I think I’d starve again, because I wouldn’t kill anyone. I imagine a sea monster is a carnivore, but if they’re a herbivore or an omnivore, maybe I’d last a bit longer.
I also think I’d get lonely. I’m imagining the Loch Ness scenario of being the only sea monster, trying to make friends with the fish, and they all swim away. So, yeah, I think I’d find a lot of obstacles in that way of life, unfortunately.
It just wasn’t to be, was it? Thankfully, you’re doing an Edinburgh show instead.
*We laughed*
Which smells remind you of childhood?
My Granny’s apple crumble is the first one that comes to mind. But apples generally, and apple pie too.
“Smells are funny, because you smell something and suddenly you’re like, ‘Why am I suddenly 7 again?’”
*Dan laughed* I remember the smell of my parents’ soap, and sweaty school uniforms.
There was one kid we’d play a game with, where we’d run away from him and if he caught us, he’d put us in a headlock. He was, at that point, a very sweaty child, so your real punishment was having to smell his armpit for about 10 seconds. We’re still friends, but he doesn’t smell anymore. He discovered the wonders of *dramatic pause* deodorant.
Can you describe the best laugh that you’ve heard at a gig?
I like a loud and long laugh. I heard one on Thursday that sounded like George of the Jungle coming in swinging. I suppose it’s the laugh popularised by Jimmy Carr, but it’s just a single ‘Haaaa!’ roar… I love the sort of laugh where you’re like ‘No, you’re not being serious.’ But they are, that’s their real laugh. *We laughed*
Do you care about the ambience of a restaurant?
Yes, but it depends on who you’re with. If I’m with friends I’ve not seen in a while, it doesn’t matter so much, because you’re creating an atmosphere by being in the room together. If you’re with people you see all the time, you might notice the ambience. If I’m on the tube with a good book or a crossword, my shutters go down.
However, if my phone runs out of batteries and I’ve forgotten to bring a pen, I’m like, ‘Oh, it’s busy and disgusting and why does anyone live in London?’ So, it depends on who I’m with in the restaurant.
Who are you going to see in Edinburgh?
My list is so long, about 100 acts, organised by time.
I often wake up at 6 AM due to the stress of doing an Edinburgh show. So, I’m tired and don’t get to see everything. So, everything’s under the proviso, ‘We’ll see’. Off the top of my head: I love John Tothill’s stuff, Cat Cohen, Jordan Gray, Rohan Sharma is debuting.
There are so many. The benefit of performing at the Underbelly is the passes, you can get into any show for free as long as it’s not sold out. I’ll try to see Lorna Rose Treen early, because she sold out the whole month two years ago when she debuted. I had to see it at the Soho Theatre.
“You can go to the Fringe and fill up your cup of inspiration for the year.”
So, possibly 100 shows. I feel like we’ve broken into something here. You’re really into comedy, aren’t you?
Yeah, now that I direct and perform, I feel less competitive. There’s no point in being competitive anyway, but if someone’s good, I think, ‘I’d love to work with them.’ I love exchanging recommendations with the people I chat with in Edinburgh. Word of mouth makes the shows that do well.
I remember everyone saying you should see Rob Copland’s show last year, so I went to see it and it was great, it had won the Victoria Wood panel prize the day before. And you had to go and pick up tickets 2 hours before the show at The Banshee Labyrinth. It shifted my perception of what a comedy show could be. I’d never seen the influences and ideas he used combined in that way; it was unbelievable. So yeah, I do really like comedy. *laughter*
Why should people come and see your show?
It’s going to be a really good time. *He laughed* I’m trying to create the loveliest, nicest experience of the Fringe. The Fringe is all about sell, sell, sell, but I don’t feel great about that.
“I want to make the audience feel good.”
My director watched the work-in-progress last year, and together, we’ve focused on creating a heart and an anchor for the show. So, we developed the story, and I’ll bring the audience into it. It’s the perfect way to start your day. Perhaps have breakfast at The City Cafe, and then come and see me at 11:45 AM.
What do people tend to say to you about your performances?
The comment I really loved from last year was a review that said I was ‘the comedy equivalent of sunshine’.2
That’s amazing! Who are your biggest supporters?
My partner helps by lending a theatre director’s eye, which is always helpful. My parents are both accountants, but they’re equally supportive. And y’know, they say ‘You’re doing an Edinburgh show? Great, but plan it properly.’ *laughter* However, it takes a village to create a show. Many people have given their encouragement. I also get line suggestions and cut suggestions from my director, Ben Target.
Ben Target is known for being quite absurdist. Has that made it into the show?
He always brings his absurdist and imaginative flair. There are a couple of visual gags in there from Ben, but he’s so good at storytelling and narrative structure as well. You could see that in Rob Copland’s show, which I mentioned before. It showed the signs of a great director, if he could help an artist arrive at that point.
Do you turn up to the gigs in smart casual clothes, or do you have an outfit?
Ha, I’ve now got an outfit. When I started gigging solo, I wore a suit, and then jeans and a blue top. I’ve got a specific outfit for Edinburgh. Ben talks about famous comics being recognisable from a silhouette.
Does this mean you have a hat?
Not at the moment… But, my hair’s kind of a hat, to paraphrase The Mighty Boosh. *We laughed*
Alex’s show promises to be both friendly and emotional. So, you’d be a fool not to see it if you’re going to Edinburgh this year, and you can now purchase tickets from the Underbelly’s website. You can also follow him on Instagram. We had a lovely interview, which began with him asking how my day had been, and that says it all.
If you have any questions for Alex or my self, feel free to ask!
this was a sweet one, the fire song really got me.
Fab!