The Fall’s new collection of tunes and Stewart Lee’s ‘How I Escaped My Certain Fate..’ book have really cheered me up over the last few weeks.

As luck would have it I managed to catch both of them live in May; not on the same night, obviously…

In a small club in Wakefield the Fall played a set which was precise to the minute and still managed to be fresh and vibrant.

The songs were mainly from the very good new LP, ‘Sub-Lingual Tablet’. It has been noted that the album title is a clever pun; sub-lingual tablet, referencing drugs or the corrosive effect i-pads etc. are having on language. Another theme that jumps out to me is religion. As a tolerant atheist in a long term relationship with devout Catholicism I’m over susceptible to religiously charged words; and there are plenty of those on this album. In fact there are plenty of religious references throughout the Fall’s canon; somebody ought to write a book about it. Anyway, the album has a nice mix of extended, hypnotic motorik vibes and short garage-punk rockers, all wrapped in the hazy cloak of a 21^st Century parable about various forms of mind control…I think.

The Fall’s live set is powerful, loud and sweaty. The group are tight; strong beats from the drums and bass provide the keyboards and guitar a solid framework to embellish. Bits of tune and rhythm from Greenway’s guitar and Elena’s Korg machine help to sculpt the tunes. And over all this MES is able to rant, chant, shout, growl, talk and even sing his peculiar lyrics. Even in a green jumper, and looking as if he’s just wandered in from the allotment, Mr. Smith is on top form and still has great presence. My only complaint about this gig is that it felt too short.

…a week later..

Towards the end of a very impressive 2 hour masterclass in stand-up stage craft Stewart Lee proclaimed, and I’m quoting out of context here, ‘nobody is equipped to review me.’ Intellectually, Stew is probably right; however I’m nobody and I’m going to get a few ideas down before I forget them.

The media city area of Salford is very shiny and nice. This evening the Lowry Theatre is packed with well dressed, young middle aged couples; chattering about Lee’s dramatic narrative and guzzling crisps and sweets throughout the gig.

I’m not a stupid man… no forget that, I’m probably well below average in this audience; so I’ve decided to sit near the back and laugh in all the wrong places.

The evening is set out as an extended rehearsal for forthcoming telly shows. And the audience lap-up this half apology. All of the material is good, some parts work better than other bits.

I do know that the Stewart Lee character is fluent in opposite language. Having lived most of my life in Huddersfield it’s a lingo I really enjoy. Basically, in opposite language, if somebody says something is shit they probably quite like it, and vice versa. It’s a good set-up, it keeps you on your toes. I believe this to be the highest form of satire. Or is that the lowest form?

Throughout the evening the Stewart Lee character uses the idea that he is uncomfortable with his success, and is not sure why many of the audience have come to this show. Again, it is a very clever angle and is acted out as though the audience’s mass misunderstanding of his genius provokes his monumental King Lear like flip-out….But what if the Stewart Lee character and Stewart Lee are one and the same? What if Stewart Lee has looked out past the floodlights and despaired? Who would want to be a member of a club that has made them life president?

The extended riff on urine-tinted memories is a variant of the ‘like a pear cider made from 100% pear’ theme and is too needy and scatological for me; but that is probably the point.

The third of the show about nationalism and UKIP, (with scatological comparison sub-plot) was possibly the most well received part of the evening. I did have a few gross-out belly laughs, but as a whole the subject matter seemed a bit pointless. I was glad Stew kept referring to the election in disappointed tones; and I know 4 million people voted for UKIP, but very few of those were in the theatre tonight. Let’s face it, they aren’t worth mentioning.

The bit where Stew claims that table and chairs are overrated really cracked me up. And there you have one of his skills; the delivery and timing is superb, and the content is almost irrelevant. I felt like an infant joining in with the adult’s laughter but not always understanding what they are laughing at.

Other parts of the evening were built on delightful comedic surrealism. I shall die a happy man having heard his nonsense about Quakers; an extended gag that contained trace elements of MES repetition and Ted Chippington’s ‘I was walking down the road one day’ joke.

Being such a nice audience there was no heckling, and the evening flew by like I was back in a really interesting and funny school lesson.

And then it was finished, and before you could say ‘Paul Nuttalls’ Stew had disappeared to man his merchandise stall. God bless him.