REVIEW: A big bang at ‘Bang Said the Gun’
The place was packed on the first of many cold days in January but inside a warm and excited atmosphere took over the room on the upper floor of the Roebuck pub in Borough. Not a single seat was available, all standing space filled with expectant ears and smiles. Drinks in hand the audience were ready while the music was so loud the ground was pulsating and bottle shakers were raucous and so began the night. Compere, Daniel Cockrill takes lead encouraging us to be a social menace by being as loud as possible. He gathers the audience together so effortlessly and energetically to do a Mexican wave and the bang shakers where rattling whose sound is reminiscent of loud rain making me wonder surely this is making someone’s bladder feel a bit weaker here
As the first act is resident poet Peter Hayhoe whose love of Countdown took a rather brilliantly filthy twist. Never had the world heard the word ‘clityfuck’ in the space of so little a time. His turn from classic MILF Carol Vorderman to new countdown girl Rachael Riley brings out this nine letter word in him much to the delight of the audience but maybe not so for the oxford English dictionary.
Next came Rob Auton, whose very appearance seemed to bring on joyous cheers and applause. His poems are filled with comedy that had the audience in stitches with a wonderful poem about wanting to name his son ‘dad’. After his dad and his dad and his dad and his dad.
I should mention that by this point I am getting rather annoyed. I am immensely enjoying the night and have already been laughing unashamedly out loud but I have remained in the corner right at the back where I am usually most comfortable in most places but here I am a whole 4 foot ten standing behind a constantly moving couple who have now gradually moved right in from of me and whose boyfriend insists on literally eating her ear. I’m all for PDA’s but this was ridiculous if rather stomach turning. There are something’s that should be left for the bedroom folks and that is one of them and having to watch the entire first half dodging this couple just to catch a glimpse of the artists was disappointing but they very kindly did offer the space in front of them later but I declined. I like blending into the walls, something very voyeuristic about it I suppose.
The highlight of the night for myself personally was the performance by none other than Phil Jupitus aka Porky the Poet. His familiar personality filled the room with laughter and his poems were surprisingly angry but still very funny. Who knew Jeremy Clarkson with his wirey hair and awful arrogance could be made funny by poem ‘Jeremy was caught fucking a car’ I can say with slightly disturbed shame that I immediately had images of Clarkson trying to fuck a Honda and that will no doubt contribute to my already traumatising insomnia.
I have heard of Tim Wells though I had never had the opportunity to see him perform until now. His dislike of toffs in pie shops is made clear. He isn’t a fan of the Tories that’s for sure nor is he a fan of his daughters’ boyfriends’ choice of attire. Green Cuban heels would make me ill on a man.
The night ended with the open mike poets who varied in their performances and so in a contest of applause and an audience member given the responsibility to award the famous golden gun trophy it was awarded to the winner. On this occasion it was a golden gun on a Yorkshire pudding tin and painted gold. A precious thing of strange beauty for sure.
Performances from ranging from the entire synopsis of all this 50 shades of grey to what was a hand job to a maze it was varied and most certainly had enough for everyone’s tastes
Poetry to some let’s face it can be boring but mud wrestling with words as bang said the gun puts it was a lot of fun.
Bang Said The Gun runs from 8pm every Thursday at:
The Roebuck 50 Great Dover Street Southwark SE1 4YG