Craig Campbell interview

He's a Lumberjack (a comedy trio with fellow Canadians Glenn Wool and Stewart Francis) and he's ok, he gigs all night and... lord only knows what he gets up to during the day. Traveling, probably, between gigs on his Don't Look Down tour, "interspersed" he says, "with raucous opening spots in front of the rabid audiences of the indefatigably funny" Frankie Boyle. But right now Craig Campbell is thinking back to his first gig, his favourite gig, his worst gig...

First gig?

My first gig (though hard to remember through the fog of time, bubbles of champagne, images of courtesans and frenzy of the parade hurriedly provided by my home town upon news of my dramatic success) went ok.

I told some stories, made some points and ultimately was battered in competition by an avalanche decision in favour of two tubby fellows standing shoulder to shoulder doing impressions of female hurdlers' genitalia during a fictional race with their belly-buttons.

I received a poster as reward for second place and a firm lesson that nothing I will ever say will be as funny as a pair of synchronised distended vaginas. I never looked back, nor forward, nor would I ever be the same again.

Favourite show, ever?

The Lentil Rocks benefit I was lucky enough to be involved in in Feb [which raised money for the stillbirth charity Sands] was full of extremely attentive, generous laughers and by the end I was brought to tears by the warmth in the room and the emotion of the moment, upon having had it explained to me that I'm a 'rainbow baby.'

And the most horrendous gig of your career?

Ohh, to narrow it down... I honestly don't have a strong memory for this type of mental scarring.

Who's the most disagreeable comic/promoter/agent you've come across in the business?

Coogan was a monumental dick-a-saurus when I met him years ago in Mancksucker - the always amazing Buzz Club in Chorlton to be exact. Unfortunately I can't say he wasn't hilarious with it. He came up to me after my set and said "great, fantastic, just wonderful" and when I humbly reflected thanks he looked at me puzzled and said "no, me.. I was great, fantastic, etc.." What a prick... a cruel, heartless, vicious, hilarious prick.

Weirdest gig?

300-ish posh, penguin-lookin', tuxedo'd freaks in a marquee tent at the Henley regatta. It'd save you imagining how it unfolded if you came - please! - to see my current show.

Is there one routine/gag you loved, that audiences inexplicably didn't?

Sure. Cool story, bro, but guess you had to be there.

It's a story that has a Canadian customs official sneak his passport stamp from work so he can stamp a Brit's passport out of hours - at an arranged location in downtown Vancouver? - to save that Brit a re-admittance nightmare trip to the States, fighting the traffic of an American Thanksgiving weekend.

But it seems everyone who hears that story is just reminded of the dozens of times a public official snapped his/her spine in half and risked everything bending over backwards to help a stranger. "Oh, the old 'hyper-helpful bureaucrat' tired old worn-out, beaten-to-death premise, heard it soooo many times pal, move on!"

What's your best insider travel tip, for touring comics?

Have a balaclava. You might never need it but it will bring limitless depth of comfort knowing it's there!

The most memorable review, heckle or post-gig reaction?

A very drunk, angry, Scotsman once squared off with me after a show to half-scream/half-growl/mostly-spit into my face "you were shite!" Which shook my ego hard until he seconds later noticed the comedy show-mate beside me, became angrier and barked with even greater anguish "you were more shite!!" Allowing me to retrieve - though vague and pathetic - an infinitesimally thin, nearly imperceptible, incredibly comforting sliver of compliment.

How do you feel about where your career is at, right now?

Carer? Wouldn't I love to know! The money pisses oot the account and I rarely ever see the dick, I always have to end up crawling down to the shops to lug my own booze 'n' fags 'n' candy 'n' porn back to the cave and whenever I need the underside of my sack polished it seems the guy's never... Ohh - career? Ah ha, I thought you said carer. Ca-reer! Yes. Hmm. My vast body of work. Well. Career-wise I feel mostly dead inside.

It's your last ever gig: give us the venue, the line-up, the pre-show rider...

It'd be at the Stand Newcastle, the hottest room in the country at the minute, or any front room, garden or venue in Glasgow. It'd have Rasputin as compere doing a tight ten-to-fifteen off the top, light riffing, gentle crowd work but no talking to the ladies, no getting his tackle out and no going to the toilets unescorted.

Rasp' would bring up Carlin, Bruce or Pryor, I'd let them coin flip to avoid conflicting egos or maybe ask... what am I talkin' aboot, it's my fantasy. I'd not ask, I'd 'tell' Carlin to open so there's no stress about having two WASP's back to back in the second half. Let Pryor close the first half so he could get on the pipe early.

Which brings us to the rider: the Monterey Pop 'Operation Chaos' Henry Schneiderman's briefcase special. Google it. Go on, slip down the rabbit hole, you know you want to.

Lenny would blitz (he'd do an hour on that word alone) the opening of the second half talking about every tiny thing that'd happened to that point in the show, figuratively and literally, peppered generously with how big Rasp's 'schlong' must be to be "shtooking all those royal Rusland shiksas."

Then I'd come on. Roll out the vinyl, pour out the olive oil, ratchet open the briefcase and lock the doors until everyone was pregnant, empty or passed out.

Craig Campbell's tour is running until June 18th, visit www.craigcampbell.info for details.