Tim Key the star of last years Fringe sits down and chats to the star of this years Bo Burnham for an hour of self indulgence, deep comedy philosophy and back slapping, it’s also over 3000 words long . Editors note: Tim Key sub edited this piece, there are no end to his talents.
Harry Deansway: Shall I start with a serious question and you can maybe work…
Tim Key : …Um, I don’t know maybe start by wearing slightly more serious clothes
Bo Burnham: (Laughs out loud)
Harry: You can talk.
Tim: I can.
Harry: You look like you mugged some dead person in a charity shop or something.
Tim: Well it was in a charity shop.
Harry: Right.
Tim: And in fairness to you, the person who used to wear it is now dead.
Harry: As this is Bo’s first Edinburgh, what was your first Edinburgh?
Tim: Yep. 2001. So Bo would have been 11. I was in a sketch show called ‘Far Too Happy’. It was pretty good actually, a good sketch show.
Tim: Did you see it?
Harry: I was sleeping rough that year…
Tim: Were you?
Harry: …In Edinburgh that year, yep.
Tim: (Ruminates on this for a second) Enjoying your first Edinburgh, Bo?
Bo: Oh yeah.
Harry: Had you heard of the festival at all, did you know anything about it?
Bo: Yeah, because I am a big fan of a lot of comics over here. It isn’t really known much in the United States and very few American comics come over. But I had known because I was a huge fan of like all these dudes like: Bill Bailey and Tim Minchin, Tim Vine and Hans Teeuwen and all these people. So I knew because I am a bit of a comedy nerd.
Harry: Bo became quite successful from recording something in his bedroom at the age of 17.
Bo: Didn’t we all?
Harry: I was going to say what were you doing in your bedroom age 17?
Bo: Make a joke.
Tim: Songs. A bit better than Bo I just didn’t think they were ready. I thought it was a bit arrogant to get them out there.
Harry: So you were doing the same thing…
Tim: Actually,I was in plays. I was doing theatre studies at A-Level so I was doing Midsummer’s Night Dream.
Bo: I was too. I have done it twice, who were you?
Tim: I was Bottom (Nick Bottom, weaver who plays Pyramus)
Bo: Of course you were.
Tim: I imagine you were probably Lysander (Beloved of Hermia) once and Puck (A.K.A Robin Goodfellow, servant to Oberon) the other time.
Bo: Holly Shit that was incredible! WOW. Oh my god dude, that was incredible.
Harry: Which one did he play first?
Tim: Well Lysander first of all – it was forced onto him owing to his looks. And then Puck – once he was in a position to call the shots himself.
Bo: Nope.
Tim: Dammit.
Bo: It was Puck when I was little in 7th grade when I was 12 and then Lysander when I was like 16.
Tim: Okay. Still no shame in guessing what the parts were that you played.
Harry: That was pretty good.
Bo: That was incredible.
Harry: Are you guys familiar with the ten thousand hour rule?
Bo: Yeah.
Tim: What is that?
Bo: Yeah, it is stupid.
Harry: You don’t agree with it?
Bo: No.
Tim: What is that?
Harry: If you want to master anything you need to put a minimum of ten thousand hours in.
Bo: How ridiculous is it to come to that conclusion specifically?
Tim: It is fucking horseshit is what it is.
Bo: I guarantee that guy didn’t spend ten thousand hours coming up with that. Know what I mean.
Harry: So you don’t agree with that?
Tim: There is probably something in it… No, it is horseshit of course it is.
Bo: That’s gauging every person as the same speed and ability as each other.
Tim: You have seen some guys who’ve put together a great show not long after starting out, surely Harold.
Harry: Yeah, but you can be doing it before you are actually, actively performing.
Bo: Just abstract and convolute it and you can make it win by anything. Like if you say “I was really practicing when I was talking to my friends” then you can find the ten thousand hours wherever you need to.
Tim: I did a… I taught English as a foreign language. This bloke would probably say it was part of my ten thousand hours.
Harry: Yeah. Well what were you like as a kid. Were you trying to entertain people then?
Tim: Yeah but I was hopeless then.
Harry: So that was a bit of practice wasn’t it?
Tim: Not all the time. Ten thousand hours though. What is that? How many hours is that?
Harry: Well the example is…I have read the book.
Tim: Oh for fuck’s sake Harold! What have you put ten thousand hours into?
Harry: Not me, I not successful in what I do am I. Ten thousand hours into getting into debt. That’s what I have put in.
Bo: Well done.
Harry: Massively in debt. Ten thousand hours of being bad with money that’s what I have put my ten thousand hours into.
Bo: But that is kind of ridiculous. It is like saying ‘practice makes perfect’ but in a really specific, ridiculous way.
Harry: Okay so neither of you are in agreement with that theory.
Tim: And also I think you can keep doing it and doing it and doing it and ten thousand hours might arbitrarily be were you get really good. Another person about three thousand hours maybe is where they would get really good at it and if you look at where they are after seven thousand hours, they might have no understanding of how to do it anymore. It kind of goes in waves. You know it’s not always a clean arc of doing it more and more and more and getting better and better and better.
Harry: So do you think you have naturally got it and it is just working on it or?
Tim: Oh no. You definitely have to have a relationship between having some kind of ability and then a lot of hard work but it’s different for each person. That is what I have found. I have had to work really hard to make it work out.
Harry: Do you think there is an ideal age to be a stand up?
Bo: Not if it is self aware of what it is. Not at all. I think like 9 would be ridiculous but anywhere between 20 to whatever. You never say ‘what age is the perfect painter?’
Tim: That’s about 40. No. I think you are absolutely right. It is only athletics/ sport where it really matters. I could easily say that two of my favorite comedians who I really love watching/working today that one is 25 and one of whom is 55. It is very simple.
Harry: What about Bill Hicks. He started when hew as 16 in the clubs and by the time he had his peak he had bee doing it 10 years by really hitting his stride and became the Bill Hicks we all know.
Tim: A lot of people who are up here this year started very very young; Daniel Kitson started very young, Josie Long started very young. Maybe that is why they are so good at a young age still? But then it is possible to be very very good and started slightly later. Mark Watson is like 30 is he?
Harry: Yes.
Tim: Yes, 30 and he probably started doing stand up in earnest in his twenties.
Harry: So for the both of you what was the catalyst that started the ‘I want to entertain and do comedy’?
Tim: I think they are very different. By chance really, there is no plan to do this. I had a bit of luck just auditioning for something when I was at a loose end and that happened to be a thing with Mark Watson in it. It was a great show so if I auditioned for something that was absolute horseshit it would have been different. There were no plans to do that so after that there was a chance to work my way into it and then I felt like it was worth staying in it to see what happens for a bit. There was never really a powerful reason to stop.
Harry: Okay so there was never really a conscious thing of ‘ I want to be an entertainer’?
Tim: No. There was a vague thing. It is a very difficult thing to perceive it happening. Like thinking ‘I want to be a footballer’. How are you going to make money off entertaining?
Harry: OK and yourself?
Bo: Man that was boring. (Yawns).
Tim: I realized it was. I couldn’t work out what your face was doing. I thought you were enthralled.
Bo: I think I always wanted to entertain; I am just a bad, bad person.
Tim: Do you think?
Bo: Yep.
Tim: Why?
Bo: Just a bad thing.
Tim: What that you were born to be it?
Bo: No, because I wanted to be it.
Tim: From when?
Bo: Born to be it is a horrible area/phrase.
Tim: From when?
Bo: When I was little I would always put on shows.
Tim: Brilliant. See I never did that.
Bo: I would put on ‘Bo Shows’ that I would put on when I was like 3 years old. I would get my friends around and stand up, sing songs and tell jokes. So I have just been a horrible person since.
Tim: This is very different.
Harry: Is that true?
Bo: Yeah.
Harry: That’s the ten thousand hours.
Bo: But I wasn’t the class clown or anything. I was always the kid at the back of the class saying ‘fuck this’. I could sit here and be like really humble and say that I didn’t really want it. But I have always wanted this and it is kind of horrible…Yeah, yeah.
Harry: Did you used to record your stuff?
Bo: I recorded the stuff online and that actually wasn’t posted as ‘this is my big break’ as no one knew what You Tube was, I never knew what You Tube was. I actually had this plan to go to college and do open mic nights and stuff.
Tim: Is that right? That’s great.
Bo: Yeah, so I posted this thing not even thinking about it because nobody knew the Internet had this power and if that hadn’t have happened I would not even be here, obviously. But I wouldn’t even be doing music in my act, if I had an act. I kind of stumbled into music too and found out I would just write a little lyrically. I feel like I write jokes rhythmically so I kind of stumbled into that which is lucky.
Harry: You both use different contrasts of traditional stand up. You have got your poetry and you have your music so how did that come about for both of you.
Tim: They were kind of two different things really. The stand up, I just did it for a bit. Did a competition or two and just found it frustrating. I wasn’t that bad, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. I did one good gig as well. Very good.
Harry: You get the bug don’t you? As soon as you get the first laugh or the first big thing that’s it, your in. You are hooked in and never lose it right?
Tim: The thing is for me it’s slightly different from that as you can get a big laugh and still feel slightly uncomfortable.
Bo: Yeah, that makes more sense.
Tim: You can get a big laugh and feel nothing, as you are not in an inner orbit where everything is working. You can always get individual laughs even if you are having a bad gig, you can do a bit of material that is always going to work and people will laugh but it is more than that really. If you are having a good gig everything kind of works; things seem more pyrotechnical. Some unplanned might happen and the room gets a certain energy; something occurs in the room where you think ‘this is a very nice gig now’. You are in control of making that but it isn’t quite as simple as that. Of course, if you go on and say something and no one laughs it is going to unsettle you. But there is something a little more magical about stand up than that.
Harry: What, is he being boring again?
Bo: It is a typhoon. No, I definitely agree that laughter is not like the end point. Especially in a place like this. If you are doing ten-minute sets around the country for drunken people then go for it. I like being in control because you can always reach out to an audience and grab them and shake them until they laugh but to get them to come to you is so much more difficult, the nuance. Like anyone ‘CrAzY’ can get in your face and make you uncomfortable until you laugh but you can tell when stand up is either like aggressive or magnetic, if that makes sense. I think the magnetic stuff is really cool where the audience has to go to the guy. Instead of the guy having to go and beg for the audience. I think that’s when a gig is going really well and I feel as if I don’t do that. When I don’t to that I pussy out…
Harry: Pander to the audience.
Bo: Pander like…I don’t know. Apologise in one-way or another. Not like literally apologising but compromising.
Harry: It is until you get in the position where you have your own audience who want to hear what you want to do.
Bo: But that’s not even great either. I have been very lucky to have an audience.
Tim: You have your audience here haven’t you. Have you seen his show?
Harry: No.
Tim: It is pretty amazing. There is a real anticipation before Bo comes on.
Bo: My fans are very young and some people that come along are in their 40’s. I don’t know. If I ever get successful, like theatres and screaming fans the challenge and the accomplishment is gone you know? I don’t know if that is a good thing. I mean, of course it is a good thing like it makes you fight extra hard to challenge yourself and not disappoint them. At the same time not to disappoint yourself by doing new things. I think having a big fan base is more artistically challenging. Going into a room where they have never heard you and rocking that room, you will never feel better. Rocking a room with people that love you to begin with, you do not feel that accomplished…unless you do new stuff.
Tim: That’s it but I don’t feel empty if I do the show and people like it. I don’t think I have a mode where I can rip a room apart by not sticking to what I do. I don’t have a PLAN B per se. I don’t think I have a bunch of stuff to do and think ‘Okay, they love that but maybe I should have been a bit more adventurous’.
Harry: Isn’t that the unplanned stuff though, when you are interacting with the audience? That always feels unplanned.
Tim: That is very unplanned. But I mean the other way around.
Bo: He doesn’t have a fall back to think that this will fucking kill.
Tim: My stuff goes best when it feels fresh and new and I have that feeling.
Bo: It’s not like feeling empty inside. It is like I think about how I could do it a bit better. I don’t feel great when I kill a show with all people that know me. Will I ever feel as good as that time when the new kid that no one ever heard of and they came in like ‘what the fuck?’ Expecting the worst and getting something.
Tim: That’s definitely true.
Bo: And people will be like ‘play that song’. I don’t know. I don’t think it can ever be as good from obscurity and that surprise is so exciting. Being in control is the most important part. The most exhilarating thing about being on stage. This month in particular, isn’t like rocking the show with applause breaks and laughs. It is like feeling in control and feeling like I could do anything. Feeling absolutely comfortable and feeling I have completely controlled the pace but at the same time it feeling completely organic. Like this is rolling well but I am not feeling like I am calculating it. Not counting in my head for beats or anything. Particularly in that room, I am in a small room they can see me, no matter where I wander on stage so like there are moments when I was like wondering around stage telling jokes, unaware of where the audience was. For the last ten minutes it has worked and that is really fun.
Tim: So what are your aims for this month Bo? Do these shows and fuck off or…?
(Laughing)
Bo: Yeah, Abso-fucking-lutley. I’m out of this place. I have never heard of any of you or your newspapers.
Harry: What do you do afterwards? Do you go back home or go to London?
Bo: I go back to Boston.
Harry: Cool.
Bo: It would be nice to do some stuff here but…
Harry: You are busy right?
Bo: Yeah, but people blow everything up though. Like I don’t sell many tickets in America. Millions of Internet hits mean nothing, they are false numbers and I will be the first one to admit that.
Harry: It is about opportunities though right. You both have good opportunities at the moment?
Bo: Yeah, yeah I am not complaining about it but people like to blow things up. People like to grab onto a gimmick. Like a 19 year old American from the Internet.
Tim: I guess what we both have is if we write a new show it is possible to find an audience that will watch it because they are interested in what we are doing.
Bo: Yeah.
Tim: Like my Edinburgh last year I had a very fun month because the people in the room were really interested in seeing me. So I had that and that is a very nice position to be in.
Bo: I told people that I would only come back here if I had something really cool or something really weird so I am not sure if I will be back next year because I am not going to rush back into it and capitalise on anything if I can’ have a decent run in.
Harry: Sort of what your doing Tim?
Tim: No, absolutely not. That is a very simple reading of the situation and a misreading.
Harry: I am only joking.
Bo: No, you are right.
Harry: That is how we are going to end it.
Tim: I will show you a tally of my finances to show you how much I make from this. It is fucking mind blowing!
Bo: Title this article ‘Three guys, two stupid blazers’.
Tim: Excuse me, this is not a blazer, it is a Safari Jacket.




Whilst performing at a preview in London of my 2006 Edinburgh show I noticed a lady in a wheel chair in the front row. Not to let her feel left out I decided to talk to her. On my approach I could feel the audience clam up, so I thought that I would make a point by saying “Oh they don’t like it when I talk to you; it makes them feel uncomfortable you being in a wheel chair! Imagine if you were black as well”! They saw my point.
I’ve got an idea. It involves taking 90% of the UK comedy industry away from where it is based in London to the capital of Scotland 500 miles away. It’s going to cost a lot of money, use a lot of time and for the majority of people be utterly pointless. Ok, but it’s only going to be a couple of day’s right? No it is going to last for the whole month. This is not some god-awful radio 4 comedy sketch or indeed my own idea this is the Edinburgh festival, “The worlds biggest arts festival.” You have to ask the question why do we do it every year. Out of the 906 comedy shows that are appearing here I reckon 20 people involved with them are going to enjoy it. 4 of those people are the guys who own the big four venues, 3 are the respective owners of Avalon, Off the Kerb and Phil Macintyre, 10 are the people who will get nominated for the Perrier, 1 is Peter Buckley Hill and the other 2 are mad, sorry the other two are mad and don’t run the Free Fringe. . Yet year on year the festival grows and more and more comedians gamble £4,000 or over on their shot at success. For the majority this will not pay off but it is the minority it does work for that keeps the majority coming back year on year. I spoke to a comedian last year who was after 3 Edinburgh’s 15k in the hole, had never had a sniff of any TV work and barely did any gigs in London and that’s only one I spoke to. I dread to think what the combined debt of all the comedians performing in Edinburgh is this year, let alone the ones who are so crippled by debt from previous Edinburgh’s that they are unable to attend.
I’d like to start by saying I’m not afraid of you people. I used to be terrified. About 95 percent of my energy as a performer went into pretending not to be afraid. Fortunately, most of that fear is gone now. Unfortunately, fear was what drove me. My creativity was fueled by panic.
I was very saddened to hear that Harvey Pekar passed away on Monday. The cult comic book creator was a major influence on me in my formative years as I perused a career in writing. Pekar specialized in writing about the mundane and the everyday life of the people he associated with in his native Cleveland. Be it his weekly trip to the grocery store, an anecdote from a patient at the hospital where he worked as a file clerk or the stories of the constant arguments he was having with people Pekar showed me that writing didn’t have to be glamorous and the reality of every day life could be just as imaginatively dealt with as any work of fiction. Using a stable of underground comic book artists to illustrate his stories including the legendary
I once pitched an idea for a live showcase comedy show (I’m not bitter) to a major channel who replied that they very much liked my idea and that “a vehicle to try and tap into the amazing wealth of stand ups out there on the circuit.” was unfortunately already in development. So I’d missed out this time. Fine if I wasn’t doing it at least someone else was. It turned out the show they did wasn’t really a vehicle to showcase comedy talent more a Robin Reliant taking a group of paedophiles to Belgium on a booze cruise. The last show to successfully showcase live comedy was the Comedians way back in 1971, it may not be hip or fashionable and I’m not condoning the un pc material but it showcased what was going on in the working men’s clubs at the time and bought it to the masses. What was happening in the clubs is what you saw on TV. Whereas today what is going on in the clubs is not being translated onto TV. From The Wall through Comedy Shuffle to TNT and the 11’o clock show TV channels get it consistently wrong when it comes to showcasing comedy on TV and what with the latest live comedy showcase still born Stand Up For The Week (where last week viewers were treated to Jack Whitehall taking the groundbreaking step of doing Michael Jackson is a paedophile jokes and Brendan Burns slagging off Russel Brand, one of the most original successful comics we’ve produced in years) this doesn’t look like a trend changing anytime soon.


Its time to rename the Edinburgh fringe. Having spent the last 4 weeks in Edinburgh it is clear that anything but a fringe festival is taking place there. The very nature of a fringe is that it is on the outer edges and with 1 million people attending every year and countless acts appearing there who are already signed up to management companies, are in development deals with production houses or have a presence on TV what we do have is a massive corporate comedy festival and to refer to it as a fringe is nothing more than a marketing gimmick akin to selling chocolate as solidified fairy shit.
So how has the Fringe found itself in this position? You just need to have a look at the roll call of famous comedians who have made a name for themselves through performing at the fringe to see why hundreds of acts flock to bonnie Scotland every year. From Michael Palin and Terry Jones in the Oxford Revue through Rowan Atkinson, Stephen Fry and more recently the Mighty Boosh and Flight of The Conchord’s anyone who is anyone in UK comedy who has become a success has started in Edinburgh. The problem now is that with the overhanging spectre of previous success a lot of acts head up to the fringe for the wrong reasons. Where as before an act might go to the festival with a show they loved, for 3 weeks of stage time to find an actual audience now it will be purely to get a TV show or an agent with the show just being an ill planned out after-thought. The acts that have a coherent show are few and far between. With so much hinging on success at Edinburgh a lot of the fun has been taken away from the festival. And how are you supposed to have fun when the majority of act’s will be loosing upwards of £3000 on their shot at the big time what with venue hire, accommodation and PR and marketing?
At the rotten core of the current incarnation of the “fringe” is the newly renamed Fosters comedy award perceived as one of, if not the biggest award in comedy, it’s been around for 30 years and you can see that pretty much anyone that has a career in the industry has won or been nominated for the award. Split into three catergories the spirit of the fringe, the best newcomer and the main award the prizes include a cash prize, a slot at the prestigious Just For Laughs comedy festival in Montreal, thousands of pounds worth of publicity and a run at a major London theatre (owned by awards chairwoman Nica Burns). With such power to launch an acts career that power was very badly abused this year with a main awards short list that included eventual winner Russell Kane (Co host on I’m a celebrity get me out of here), Greg Davies (Star of the inbetweeners and We are Klang), Sarah Millican (About to release a stand up DVD with Channel 4) Bo Burnahm (59 million youtube hits ) Josie Long (Toured the world and has written and appeared in hit channel 4 show Skins). It’s not to say that these were not some of the best shows at the “Fringe” Greg Davies and Bo Burnhams certainly were, more that you could hardly describe any of these acts as being on the fringe of comedy. Don’t the awards have a responsibility to give something back to the acts who give so much to the festival? Instead with this list all they have served to do is increase the booking and TV appearance fees for acts who are already well established in the comedy industry. You can say that the best newcomer award is there to highlight the acts on the fringes but a cursory look at that list and you see that 75% of the nominees already have a promoter and manager behind them. When you look at the panel who selected the nominees, like the acts on the main awards short list none of them are on the fringe of the comedy industry. Made up of Journalists from all the major broad sheets, the head of BBC radio comedy, the commissioning editor for comedy at channel 4 and two festival directors from major festivals It’s not surprising that the more established acts at the fringe ended up making the list whilst acts who are genuinely on the Fringe of comedy who had great shows Like Nick Helm, Dr Brown and Toby didn’t get a look in.
This year management agencies threw thousands of pounds at moulding the careers of their act’s at the festival, household names like John Bishop played 1000 seater venues, and the BBC branded comedy presents sold out a daily live night by spending thousands of pounds on marketing and acts. What was once a small arts festival for act’s to learn their craft is now, in the main, a soulless comedy conveyer belt where acts are pitted against each other in a corporate sponsored competition ultimately allowing the existing comedy establshment to pat itslef on the back . All this is fine as the old adage goes it’s show “business” and the festival is a great place to launch an acts career but somewhere in all this the show has been overtaken by the business and that’s why to continue to refer to it as a fringe is just a lie.