04/10/2020
It's been a while since I put up anything here about Spotlight - mainly because I'm a lazy sod - oh, and the virus. Me still being a lazy sod I've decided to put this up - written by and read at Spotlight in December 2017 by compere and all round good chap Simon Baker. No relation. And I could have done a Simon-esque pun there with 'all round good chap' but didn't... well have really... and not very good... probably shouldn't have bothered. Anyway, enjoy the nostalgic read...
Spotlight 250 by Simon Baker
(for Ron Baker and Sarah Fiske)
I do most of my thinking in the shower. When I have a problem to solve I like to wash that problem right out of my hair and send it on its way. Roughly every two months the thing I’m considering as I sq**rt my nut infused crème onto my puff is what I’m going to do for Spotlight – usually as an opener when I’m compering but very occasionally, as this month, something for a spot on the bill.
So… it was probably in the shower that I decided to mark this momentous occasion of 250 Spotlights by writing something about Spotlight. Now, being somebody who is supremely confident and self-assured… is an experience I will never have. So almost as soon as I came up with this idea I began to imagine all the reasons why members of the audience might think this was a terrible idea. Some of you for instance might be here for the first time and however much you’ve enjoyed the last…. It’s probably still a little too early for me to expect you to get on board the Nostalgia Express. Some of you might think that me, Spotlight’s Simon Baker, writing about Spotlight is a teeny bit self-indulgent. By the way, Spotlight’s Simon Baker is how the tabloids always refer to me when they print lurid pictures of me eating a sherbet dip-dab in a nightclub toilet or falling out of a glamour model. Anyway, I decided to put my worries about the audience reaction out of my mind and write about my time in the Spotlight. But, you know, at least I showed you some consideration and I hope it means something to all of you that I was thinking about you… while I was soaping my balls.
Now to be clear, this isn’t a history of Spotlight because basically I missed the first six or seven years. But I reckon by now there must only be a handful of people who have been to more Spotlights than me. Next Friday it will be ten years since I first compered this event and I reckon I’ve done so roughly 80 times so you’d think I’d be a bit better at it by now. I first appeared on the bill over fourteen years ago on the 17th of October 2003. Number one that week… you have ten seconds to shout out your guesses… Where is the love? by Black Eyed Peas.
That was at Spotlight’s previous regular venue: The Yorkshire House. For those of you who missed out on what literally no-one calls the YoHo Years, let me bring it to life before your eyes like some kind of benign Rolf Harris. While this room is wide and shallow, upstairs at the Yorkie was narrow and shallow. There was a stage at one end and a bar at the other so you never got the hushed reverence that accompanies performances here at the Storey. While this stage is bare at the start and end of the evening the stage at the Yorkshire House was a time capsule of anything else that had happened on it ever. So you generally shared the stage with four ashtrays, two plectrums, the backdrops for a one woman version of The Dirty Dozen, a broken kazoo, a ni**le tassel, a bingo machine and some empty bottles of a lager that they stopped making in 1977. Look at the chair you’re sitting in. Now look at the one your neighbour is sitting in. Identical, right? The chairs upstairs in the Yorkie were all the chairs in Lancaster that nobody else wanted because they didn’t go with anything. Many was the time I would be sitting on a half-upholstered footstool while my friend towered above me on the sort of thing street performers climb onto to demonstrate their balance and fearlessness.
To get to this upstairs room you had to negotiate a packed downstairs bar full of metalheads and greasers, a frankly terrifying landlady and a staircarpet that was permanently sticky with what you hoped was spilt beer. It was horrible and it was marvellous. Walking in here feels much less intimidating and I think there are a lot of people, both performers and audience members who happily come here but might have struggled with the obstacle course I’ve just described. But I do miss that edge.
I really wish I could tell you a cool story about my first visit to Spotlight and what prompted me to attend but annoyingly I can’t remember. As was often the case in my youth I think I probably came by myself. I do know I was hooked pretty quickly and graduated from audience member to open mic performer to that exciting moment when I got my first ever cheque as a result of writing something and then I became one of the regular comperes. Most of the things I’ve written in the last fifteen years were either written to be performed here or because of collaborations that began here. I know that many regular Spotlight visitors are keen to know exactly who they should blame for that and at this point I feel duty bound to squarely point the finger at Ron and Sarah. Where other arts organisers would have sensibly ignored me and hoped that I would eventually go away it was these two who foolishly encouraged me. They are accessories to every crime I’ve performed on this stage, culpable of every terrible pun and poorly thought out opening routine. In those moments - those moments of self doubt it was Ron and Sarah who entirely failed to say. Yes. You are a bit s**t. Please f**k off.
As well as Ron and Sarah I feel there are a few other people who should receive shout-outs in this piece of writing and yes, I am aware that by mentioning a dozen people I risk offending and upsetting the many dozens who I don’t mention so please, let me in all sincerity say to anybody whose name doesn’t come up…. get over yourself you narcissistic prima donna.
I want to mention Pascal Desmond. As well as being an occasional compere Pascal I think holds the current record for most appearances on the bill but just as importantly I get the impression that nobody has done more over the years to provide Ron and Sarah with practical assistance whether it’s emergency car journeys, jumping in to man the cash box or mixing desk, setting up, packing away, banging the gong during slams or helping count up the marks at the end. Pascal has also regularly interrupted me while I’m compering in ways that are almost always as unhelpful as they are well-meant. Truly, he is Pascal the rascal. He hasn’t been able to be with us recently but I’m sure I’m not the only one who hopes to see him here again soon.
I also want to give a verbal high five to my fellow compere Tony who hasn’t been doing it for ten years like some kind of attention-seeking loser but is coming along in leaps and bounds, going from strength to strength and generally working his way through all other similar clichés. Plus, when he comperes I get to… sit back and enjoy the show. Now that I read that out loud I realise it sounds a bit creepy so I’m going to go all in and say of Tony that he’s my private compere. A compere for money. He’ll do what I want him to do.
Now I’m going to do something incredibly stupid. I’m going to tell you my perfect bill. That’s right I’m going to imagine I can choose from all of the acts who I’ve ever introduced on stage and I’m going to assemble an imaginary ultimate Spotlight. These days some people would refer to this act of assembly as curating and those people are c***s. I’m sorry. I know that was childish. I decided a few years ago to stop using that word on stage but if you can’t treat yourself at Christmas….
Anyway.
Compere: Tony Povah. I’m going to bang him right in that slot without a moment’s hesitation.
Opening music: Mollie Baxter. She’s the first person I saw perform at Spotlight that made me go wow. Omni-talented, utterly lovely and she’s also done a phenomenal amount to inspire, encourage, coach and teach other writers in the area.
First spot on the bill I’m going to cheat and go for a double-act of Ron Scowcroft and Peter Crompton. Ron’s probably the best poet I’m friends with and Peter is a former pupil of his. Both write and perform in different styles but it would be great to see them on stage together celebrating what teachers do to encourage creativity and what a buzz they get from seeing that spark catch fire.
Next up will be Lenni Sanders. Some poetry works best on the page. Some works best in performance. But for me, she just gets that balance spot on. She’s also on the bill to represent the many students from our local universities who contribute to Spotlight during their three or four years in the area and then move onwards and upwards.
15 minute break and since we’re playing Fantasy Spotlight I’m going to say that they have Doom Bar on tap, some really decent wine and Seabrook’s smoky bacon crisps but the way they tasted twenty years ago.
After the break I will hope to persuade Sarah Fiske to abandon her post at the door and take a spot on the bill because it’s ages since she did and most Spotlight regulars these days don’t know what a stunning writer she is.
Topping the bill will be Marvin Cheeseman because I don’t think anyone I’ve seen here has made me laugh so much. And the final music act will be Cartoon Food because I’ve never been in a band, I never will be in a band but if I was in a band that’s the band I’d like to be in.
That was my ultimate Spotlight. Feel free to work out your own on the way home.
People often assume because I’m compere that I’m involved in organising or running the evening. Nothing could be further from the truth. Basically Ron and Sarah do everything and then I rock up on the night, say a rude word into a microphone and go to the pub. I’m not proud of that. But I am proud to be associated with this Lancaster institution. I’m proud because in these days of barriers and borders it’s so fiercely inclusive. I’m proud because so many performers have got their first go of standing in front of an audience here, their first paid gig here, their first Slam competition prize here. We live in a country where young people have been handed a future most of them didn’t want and where we don’t have enough respect for elders so I’m proud that there’s such a huge span between the youngest and the oldest voices heard in this room.
There may come a day when Ron and Sarah decide they want to step back from all this. It will be a sad day for me but I hope more than anything that this will happen exactly when they choose for it to happen. No sooner. No later. I also hope that on that dark day, somebody else, maybe even somebody sitting among you tonight will take up the torch, grasp the baton or something less cliché’d. I hope one day someone here will receive the sausage. Or maybe it will be like Dr Who and on Christmas Day Ron will regenerate into Beth Latimer off of Broadchurch.
In this time of budget cuts and philistines only an idiot would be so optimistic as to say here’s to the next 250 Spotlights. Here’s to the next 250 Spotlights.
