2333: Human Slaves in an Insect Nation

Andie and I went to see Bill Bailey this evening. Bill Bailey is one of my absolute favourite live performers, and I always enjoy seeing his shows. I have, however, watched most of his past content many, many times on DVD and online, so I was more than ready to see some new material.

Fortunately, his new show Limboland proved to be entirely new material, albeit with a few cheeky nods back at his past work for those of us who have been enjoying his blend of music technology wizardry and comedy for years now.

In some senses, it was a little odd to have such an up-to-date Bill Bailey show, because the last time I watched one of his shows, things like social media and YouTube hadn’t worked their tendrils into every facet of our existence as they have today, and so it was momentarily jarring to hear Bailey making jokes about YouTube commenters. This feeling soon passed, though, and the content fit very nicely into his set.

As usual, he made impressive use of the music technology he had on stage to provide a true multimedia experience. Of particular note was his iPhone ringtone megamix, where he blended together some of the most commonly heard (and irritating) iPhone ringtones to create a surprisingly solid piece of electronica, and his Ambient Electronica Workshop, in which he created a fake Moby track using samples obtained from audience members. The death metal versions of Lady in Red (which he performed through gritted teeth, having spent a considerable amount of time in his past shows mercilessly mocking Chris de Burgh) and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star were also extremely memorable highlights.

Bailey’s humour is chaotic and sort of directionless in a way; he comes on stage and sort of just starts rambling — in one of his past shows he noted that he doesn’t really know how to start performances — but his manner of speaking, his friendly manner and the vivid pictures he paints with his words make him a consistent delight to listen to, whether he’s talking about the impending EU referendum or going off on some surreal tangent about lizard girlfriends or Lionel Richie thinking that all horses are white.

I think what I particularly like about Bailey is that he’s not in any way threatening or scary like some comedians can be. When he interacts with the audience, he mocks them sometimes, but it’s always a gentle, friendly mocking rather than outright acidic, spiteful comments. And when he’s just delivering his material, it’s like listening to an old friend or family member with a particular penchant for delivering anecdotes — perhaps with a few embellishments here and there — talking to you during a quiet evening in your living room as you sip port, or over the dinner table as you await the arrival of the raspberry pavlova to conclude your meal.

I’m sure that were I ever to come face to face with Bailey I would react much like he said he did when he encountered Sir Paul McCartney — that is to say, much like I reacted when I encountered the father of the adventure game, Don Woods, i.e. turning into a dribbling, awkward moron (even more so than usual, I mean) — but since that is probably unlikely to happen I can continue to enjoy the mental image of Bailey as “the friend I never had”; someone I always enjoy spending time with, and even after several years without seeing him, the second he comes back we’re right back to the way we’ve always been together.

In short, Limboland was a wonderful show, and if you have the opportunity to see him live, I highly recommend you take it.