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Let's talk (and laugh) about sex: Comics confess bedroom horror tales

Let's talk (and laugh) about sex: Comics confess bedroom horror tales

Be warned, these are comedians talking, so there will obviously be some rather adult content ahead in this week's Big Read. Stop now if you think you're likely to be offended...
Hal Cruttenden
When discussing dating in the digital age, many roll their eyes and say it's far too depressing and no way to find real love. I admit that I am yet to find lasting love on the apps, but they helped turn me from a man who felt rejected, unconfident and overweight – into a man who felt accepted, attractive and overweight.
(Image: Steve Ullathorne)
Dating apps transported me into the most exciting time of my middle-aged life. It's hard to underestimate what being left, after 21 years of marriage, does to you. The person I felt closest to, my best friend – although I was never her best friend, that was Lisa – no longer wanted to make a life with me and didn't find me attractive any more.
It took me about a year to discover that there were women out there, who'd been through the mill like myself, and had reached such a low point that they also found me attractive.
I've been on Match.com and Bumble. Bumble was definitely the favourite. It's where women make the first move so you can be sure that when you're talking to someone you're not bothering a woman who's not interested.
A straight man's experience on apps is far less traumatic than a straight woman's because straight women have to deal with the idiocy, the emotional immaturity and sometimes the downright creepiness of straight men.
Virtually every woman I've met has been lovely and, most importantly, sane. There are still far too many blokes sending unsolicited d**k pics and starting their conversation with 'what do you like in bed'?
That's a conversation you shouldn't be having until at least the first coffee.
If you're embarking on apps for the first time, please remember that originality is what grabs people's attention.
Avoid these cliches:
• 'I'm a glass-half-full type of person!' That's an immediate swipe left for me. It sounds like you're trying too hard to look happy, which probably means you're not.
• 'I'm looking for a partner in crime.' Who are you? Rosemary West?
• 'I'm equally at home in a little black dress and heels as I am in walking boots.' To this one I wrote 'Me too!' And she blocked me
Hal Cruttenden's new stand-up show Can Dish It Out But Can't Take It will be at the Pleasance Courtyard Cabaret Bar at 9.30pm throughout the Fringe
Ria Lina
I'VE been single for three years, but still live with my ex-husband, which really streamlines the question 'what are you looking for' The answer is: a mortgage.
TLDR* I got married while I was at uni to a man in his 40s – because I believe in learning the hard way.
Fast-forward two decades: we share children, a cost of living crisis and, therefore, a flat.
(Image: Ria Lina (Picture: Steve Ullathorne))
But I'm finally back out there, if by 'out there' you mean there exists a dating profile of my face, my preference for pineapple on pizza, and three truths I jokingly pretend are two truths and a lie. JK** they're all true, 'cos I'm just that quirky and amazing.
Unfortunately, modern dating isn't about connection, it's about branding. The apps want me to distil my essence into six photos, one punchline, and a job title that sounds non-threatening but still implies I can pay for half the meal.
I'm a stand-up comedian, which is a red flag for anyone looking for emotional stability, so instead I say 'journalist'.
It serves for feisty and intelligent, but minus the if-we-date-I-will-turn-you-into-publicly-accessible-art-on-social-media vibe that can be such a turn-off to delicate men.
Unsurprisingly, I struggle with online dating. I'm half Filipina, half-German, which makes me 'vaguely Asian' and far too ethnically ambiguous for the algorithm.
It thinks I'm an AI-generated stock photo and keeps asking me to replace it with one of my own.
Most of my matches are men who assume I'm Western enough for their tastes, but ethnic enough to take home to their first-generation traditional mothers.
What a shock their mothers would get if they found out I'm more educated than their sons, earn more money, and have already had all my children. Sorry Auntie!
If I do go on an actual date, do I tell them this date or the next that I still live with my ex? Although full disclosure: I have yet to get to a second date. The last guy I met from an app talked so much about himself I never even got the chance to tell him my real name…
Ria Lina's new stand-up show Riabellion will be at the Monkey Barrel Cabaret Voltaire at 2.25pm throughout the Fringe
Tiff Stevenson
AS a fortysomething woman who was with my husband 15 years before we got married, you may as well ask me about dating in the Neolithic era.
I do, however, consider myself an enthusiastic spectator of this brutal sport.
A world of excruciating descriptions of hobbies for people who will never read them.
(Image: Tiff Stevenson (Picture: Steve Ullathorne))
I was fascinated to know that my friend swiped left while on the toilet. Literally rejecting men as she took a dump. Maybe that's evening out the score a bit?
It's generally tougher for women out there, even if Bumble has women in the lead. I was last dating in an era when there were a few dating websites. In fact, my husband cancelled a date on Match.com because we got together.
Then there was also OKCupid and Plenty of Fish but I think with global warming and super-trawlers, all of a sudden there weren't that many fish any more.
To be honest I don't know how I'd cope as a woman in my 40s on a looks-based app where men in their 50s want to date twentysomethings.
I think they are now developing apps for older, single people like OurTime. I've even heard they are thinking of doing middle-aged Love Island. I'm keen to see how that pans out – people refusing to drink because their indigestion is playing up.
'Good on paper' will just mean everyone showing their prescriptions.
I'm from the era of mix tapes, sometimes with personalised recordings thrown in between songs. An era where you had to split the bill in the moment because you couldn't PayPal it later.
If you liked them there was no FaceTime – it was text or phone or, worse, ringing a house phone and talking to a questionable flatmate.
What I'd love for young people to do now is experience true love like my generation of millennials: bang someone at work after getting drunk at the office party, then transition into a relationship because someone has reported you to HR. Ahhh romance.
Tiff Stevenson's new stand-up show Post Coital will be at the Monkey Barrel Hive 1 at 2.50pm throughout the Fringe
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Laurie Magers
I MET my convict ex on a dating app. Of course I did, I love dating apps.
I know they don't have the most sparkling reputation, but I love them. I love how they gamify dating. I love how they gather all the nearby singles into convenient little boxes for me to thumb through at my leisure. I love that there are tons of different apps to suit the needs of any sort of dater, or my mood at any given moment.
(Image: Tiff Stevenson (Picture: Steve Ullathorne))
For the past 15 years, I've met all my partners online. From one-time hook-ups to casual arrangements to long-term relationships. Dating apps have always provided.
I used a wide variety of apps. I've had paid accounts on serious dating sites like Match.com, swiped through hundreds of profiles on Tinder, and looked for other women on Her. Just like IRL*** dating, sometimes I would hit and sometimes I would miss.
I should also mention that I am admittedly and undoubtedly a full-blown love addict. But there was one app I knew I could always open and secure a date. Plenty of Fish. It was like the discount store of dating apps.
Look, I don't know that my experience is universal, maybe I just got really unlucky, but every single person I met through POF was a disaster.
An unemployed video game addict who lived in his mom's detached garage. Dated him for months. A woman who lied about her age and forced me to fold her laundry.
And my ex. A violent multi-felon.
He messaged me on POF and, as I always did, I asked to meet up immediately at a bar. 'I can't leave the house after nine,' he wrote. 'I have an ankle monitor. I'm on parole.'
At the time, that was the sexiest text I'd ever read.
Four months into dating, he got locked up again and I stayed with him for two years of his incarceration. This probably wasn't the best choice. But I got a wild story and a great solo show out of it, and I have Plenty of Fish to thank.
Do You Accept These Charges? will be at the Pleasance Courtyard Below at 3.10pm throughout the Fringe
Aideen McQueen
With online dating, the biggest cliches are really good advice. 'Be yourself' is the main thing I've learned over the years. I know that sounds more clichéd than someone saying, 'No sugar for me, I'm sweet enough as it is!' – but it works.
I treated it all like an audition: my profile was a beige smoothie of generic hobbies like hiking, travel and the gym. I laughed at everyone's jokes like a Japanese schoolgirl, was offensive to no-one and appealing to almost as few. But bland doesn't win hearts. You have to be honest about your weirdness.
(Image: Aideen McQueen (Picture: Steve Ullathorne)) If you hate dogs, say it. If you grow your toenails into tiny claws, own it. Your tribe will follow. I used to write that I was a 'social drinker', even though I'm a recovering alcoholic. I didn't want to 'scare people off'.
Now my profile says: 'Just because I don't drink doesn't mean I can't make mistakes.' And you know what? That one line has worked wonders.
The same applies to photos. I used to have super-flattering ones without a freckle in sight and more filters than a Brita factory. But now I've learned to use photos that reflect how I actually look, and embrace my flaws.
If you're curvy, stop hiding behind weird angles or top-down shots. Embrace it. Show your body as it really is. Sure, some guys won't like it, but who cares? The ones who do like it are the ones you actually want to meet. I spent years trying to shrink myself into someone else's ideal. Now I just show up as me.
I tried everything to meet a man. All the apps, online dating coaches, even a posh gym. I went on so many blind dates the British Guide Dog Association got in touch. But I overlooked one crucial thing: I wasn't being nice to men.
Honestly, men can start to feel like the enemy after a while. I remember going on a date with someone I wasn't even sure I liked – because I hadn't been honest in my profile – and my attitude was awful. Defensive, snarky, impatient.
So now I ask myself: 'Would I say that to a friend?' If the answer is no, I don't say it to a man either.
Aideen's theatre show Waiting For Texto will be at the Gilded Balloon Patter House Nip at 2.20pm throughout the Fringe
Britt Migs
Could you fall in love with a sex bot on Instagram? My ex-husband did. It cost him $700 in iTunes gift cards. It cost me our marriage.
They're not fearmongering when they say AI is coming for all of our jobs. AI took my job of 'wife'.
Social media blurs the lines between what's real and what we want to be real. Now add AI into the mix, and this becomes a cautionary tale.
(Image: Britt Migs (Picture: Dev Bowman))
How is a man supposed to properly cheat on his wife when he can't tell which of the beautiful women in his DMs are sentient? Hint: if she says 'big boob sexy girl here for you' keep scrolling.
In this new digital age of dating, we have to be increasingly more careful – with our hearts and bank routing numbers – lest we make the same mistakes as my ex.
No surprise, I was digital dating's number one hater, but I still couldn't avoid it. Shortly after this Insta-cheating scandal, I was thrust back into the world of online flirting via eager likes, thirst traps, and story stalking.
I quickly regretted making it clear online that I was single again, as my DMs were promptly flooded with strange men and even stranger requests.
My fellow ladies know that for every DM a man receives from a bot, there's a very real man sending a DM to us that says 'send feet pic'.
But lo and behold, what ended my marriage – and perpetuated the creepy messages I received – also gifted me the love of my life. I stumbled across the Instagram profile of another comic who quickly became my online crush.
Funny? A certified hottie? Immediate follow.
They were queer, and so was I – I just hadn't made that clear enough on social media yet. That's right, the 'G' in LGBTQ+ stands for 'Got Divorced'.
We laid the groundwork by exchanging likes on each other's photos until the tension built up so big it could no longer be contained by the Cloud.
Finally, I received a DM I actually wanted to read: 'Hey, are you queer?'
Britt Migs's debut stand-up show Dolphin Mode will be at the Underbelly Buttercup on George Square throughout the Fringe
Ismael Loutfi
I'M 32 and I've been divorced twice. I got married the first time when I was 17, to a classmate in my Senior Year. It was a Sharia marriage, meaning there were no legal documents involved, but the Muslim community in my hometown viewed it as legitimate, as did I.
The marriage only lasted six months. One day, my wife called me while she was at summer camp and told me she didn't want a husband – she wanted a boyfriend. So, we ended the marriage and broke up.
(Image: Ismael Loutfi (Picture: Mandee Johnson))
That phone call was the only tangible impact that technology had on our relationship, and its effect was to end the thing.
I met my second wife on Facebook, and the marriage lasted three years.
So, based on my own experience, it would seem meeting online works better than meeting in person. But I know this isn't the case…
I'm currently on two dating apps: Salaams, for Muslims trying to get married; and Hinge, for non-Muslims trying to be in a situationship for two weeks.
I regularly go through the ritual of downloading these apps and then deleting them several months later, as many people do. The initial hit of seeing hundreds of women all trying their best to be their sexiest is alluring, but the facade quickly fades.
Much has been said about the gamification of online dating, but the apps aren't a game, they're a cheat to the game that dating already is.
As anyone who's gamed knows, after you start using cheats and hacks, the game itself loses that very antagonistic value that makes it fun in the first place. You begin to see the finiteness of the world you're playing in and experience a sense of dread that you're wasting your time.
So, too, does online dating fill the user with a sense of dread. What at first appears as a limitless field of potential lovers quickly transforms into a fixed set of personality types, quirks, and catchphrases. What does 'let's build an empire together' actually mean?
You begin to see the digitised walls around you, and the obviousness of how limiting, rather than freeing, the framework of online dating fundamentally is. And then you flush the toilet.
Ismael Loutfi's stand-up hour Heavenly Baba will be at the Assembly George Square Studio 5 at 6pm throughout the Fringe
Mary O'Connell
I LOVE being consumed by a new crush. It's so nice having someone else live in my brain for a bit. It's like a holiday from your own thoughts.
'Move in shirtless man on bike from the park. See how you like staying there. Give me a break.'
(Image: Mary O'Connell (Picture: Rachel Sherlock))
I'm actually really good at dating – if I don't like you straight away.
Correction, if I don't get obsessed with you, I'm funny, charming, exciting and a bit aloof.
However, if I get infatuated with you, I will still be all those things on the surface.
But underneath I am googling how to make your star sign obsessed with me; wearing my perfume in an arguably manipulative way; and looking at when you were last online on WhatsApp, judging what time you go to bed, and making plans on how to make your sleep schedule more aligned to mine.
It's easy to be infuriated because you know where everyone is at all times. Here you are at the beach not replying to my text, at the coffee shop not replying to my text, at a funeral not replying to my text. Some people are so insensitive.
I would never stoop so low as to watch any of my love interest's Instagram stories, I do have some pride. But I will meticulously sift through every name of who's watched my IG**** stories in order to find said lovers. Smirking, as I spot their names: 'These losers are obsessed with me.'
I know I may seem intense, but allow me, I'm a romantic, and even worse I'm in the arts. I pride myself in being able to get over crushes quickly. It's savage really, considering all I'd had planned for them in my head. Most of them didn't even know we were getting married.
I love a bit of chaos. We've had hot girl summer, brat summer – how about 'messy-should've-worked-it-out-in-therapy summer'?
I go a bit crazy if I'm not getting attention from someone who wants to bang me. It is a problem and I'm not working on it.
Mary O'Connell's stand-up hour Dilly Dally will be at the Pleasance Courtyard Attic at 7.15pm throughout the Fringe
Dylan Adler
I WAS fully out of the closet when I arrived in New York City for college in 2014 and was ready to start dating and kissing boys. My first official date was through Tinder and I was incredibly nervous. I took 45 minutes styling my hair. The date was fun but didn't lead to anything more.
The first time I lost my virginity was about one year later with someone I met on Tinder. He was a 25-year-old Vietnamese gay. The experience was fun and we still keep in contact and run into each other a lot because the gay Asian world is very small.
(Image: Dylan Adler (Picture: Kim Newmoney)) Afterwards, I started using Grindr which is exclusively for sex. I have also used it to promote my comedy shows to horny gays who have nothing to do that night.
After a while I deleted Grindr out of frustration with how fleeting my experiences felt. In 2022, I met my first boyfriend in person on the dance floor of a gay bar in NYC. Vintage!
I asked him if he wanted to dance and he said 'no'.
I went home with my tail between my legs, but the next day I got a DM***** from someone on Twitter saying: 'Sorry about last night, I was with my cousin and didn't want to make it weird. Let's get dinner.'
Then he became my first boyfriend. If not for Twitter, that never would've happened.
I'm now single and back on Grindr being very slutty. Grindr is fun while touring comedy on the road because you get to have sex with people that you may never see again. So chic!
I used Grindr while opening for Atsuko Okatsuka in Europe this February. European boys are really something else. Ten out of 10.
For safety, whenever I went on a hook-up, I would share my location with Atsuko and one time she saw that I was in a river in Zurich, Switzerland.
I was just taking a walk by a river after a fun hook-up, but she was understandably very scared.
Dylan Adler's comedy show Haus Of Dylan will be at the Pleasance Courtyard Beside throughout the Fringe
Seaton Smith
Dating apps. Why do you need them? Because we are busy people who don't have the time to find the perfect person outside of our jobs, local bar, or walking the streets sobbing.
If you are searching for love – the internet has got you. Convenient love. Special delivered love. Like Amazon Prime love.
I know there are levels to it. Tinder is for hook-ups. Hinge is for a relationship. Bumble is for BDSM submissives.
But how do you navigate it? How do you find success? How do you avoid being swiped to the left like a booger on a T-shirt?
(Image: Seaton Smith (Picture: Mindy Tucker))
There was a time I used to think it was the land of milk and honey. But then I realised that it's a lot of work. Sitting there swiping over and over like I'm playing bingo.
Then, when you finally get a match, the game is to try to talk informally via message.
But I'm so tired by the time I get the match I forget that I am supposed to talk. I don't even care.
And to be honest I have made mistakes myself on dating apps. I've said dumb things like 'Hi', ''Hello', or 'What's up' and 'How are you doing?'.
All toxic things, according to women ranting on Instagram.
I met one girl who had a middle room with no windows. It was like having sex in an oven.
I matched with a woman who didn't look like her pictures and I felt no chemistry and I insulted her country. She was from Sydney, and I told her a story of my first day visiting Australia where I saw a Trump rally across the street from my hotel.
There were only five people on the corner but they were yelling something about immigrants. And I was watching them in awe… until I realised I was an immigrant.
One of the local police told me 'everything is gonna be okay' and looked embarrassed.
Anyways, the Australian date hated that story.
Probably my biggest mistake was on OkCupid, when I met and moved in with a woman after three weeks. But it was a brief love affair… that lasted five years.
Thankfully, dating apps are figuring out more and more ways to be helpful. They are offering you more access for more money, adding status and perks if you pay more and more. Eventually, there will be one financial solution that is inevitable… hooker apps.
Seaton Smith's stand up show Trauma Bonding will be at the Pleasance Courtyard Bunker 3 throughout the Fringe
GUIDE TO DIGITAL LINGO
In case you're not up to speed when it comes to online chat, here's an explanation of some of the slang used by the comics
*TLDR: too long, didn't read
**JK: just kidding
***IRL: in real life
****IG: Instagram
*****DM: Direct Message
TICKETS FOR ALL SHOWS ARE AVAILABLE AT WWW.EDFRINGE.COM
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10 shows I saw in one day at the Edinburgh Fringe
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I tried to go to 10 Edinburgh Fringe shows in 1 day – here's what happened
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The parallels in politics from all corners of the earth were drawn as we discussed the monarchy to attitudes towards driving instructors. Will Jeremy Corbyn help Nigel Farage become Prime Minister? Is Charles a better King than Elizabeth was Queen? The comedians in attendance were on fire for 9.30am, and Harun Musho'd hosted the discussion incredibly well. This was a Free Fringe show. The Free Fringe came into existence in 1996 to try and mitigate what the industry saw as the exploitation of artists by the paid Fringe. "If you see a paid Fringe show, chances are, none of the performers are making any money and they are probably losing loads," Musho'd told the audience at one point in the show where they took five minutes to all plug their individual shows. As he spoke, his fellow comedians nodded. READ MORE: I tried the viral Irn-Bru and espresso drink – here is my verdict Musho'd continued: "That's what happens at most paid Fringe shows, and they are usually screwed by the venues by the way their fee structure is. I think the venues are screwed over on the other end but that's another story. "The only way to make money at the paid Fringe is to be famous in the first place, then have a sold-out run in a big venue. The Free Fringe was designed to do something about that." Artists don't pay for the venue, and the audience is not charged. The whole thing runs on voluntary donations and the fact audience members buy things, such as drink or food, from the venues while they are there. Musho'd added: "The Free Fringe is a non-profit making organisation but is more accurately described as a 'almost goes bust every year' organisation." If A Political Breakfast was a paid Fringe Show, the audience would have been paying about £10-15 each for a ticket, with the average across the Fringe in 2024 at around £12, though prices could sometimes climb as high as £50-60. Musho'd told the audience, don't pay if you don't want to, with another point of the Free Fringe being that the public can see shows before they pay. Musho'd is on the board of trustees for the Fringe Society and he is questioning where the money from the Fringe goes, as according to him, "nobody actually knows". He added: "We need to find out, so I'm actually trying to persuade universities to put up a study about the economics, and the impact [of the Fringe] and where the money goes." Will Edinburgh's visitor levy help see the city see more money from the Fringe? "I think that Edinburgh is unbelievably lucky to have the festival," Kat Brogan, managing director of Mercat Tours, told me after my first show. "It brings everybody here where we can shine, and in this day and age, to have everybody talking and listening and thinking physically together – and they're doing all of that in Edinburgh – it shows us why we were the city of enlightenment. "It's a bit of a scary world out there so the idea that humans can come together and do something really positive, I think that's a huge privilege to host." Having just been in a room where more than 40 folk all discussing politics without any voices being raised or a whiff of tension, I couldn't help but agree. READ MORE: US vice president JD Vance to visit Scotland 'this week' There is also a rhetoric of tourists overrunning the city, however, Brogan tells me that "locals are actually the biggest audience, which is not often reported". Edinburgh locals made up the largest audience segment in 2024, representing 33% of ticket buyers. Combined with visitors from elsewhere in Scotland (15%), local and domestic attendees accounted for nearly half of all Fringe ticket purchases last year. Brogan sees the Fringe as one of the country's greatest adverts for tourists to visit, not just in August, and enjoy Scottish culture – as well as an immense benefit to locals. "The Fringe is a charity, they do work year round to benefit locals, and physically the spread of events is happening, so we just need to keep listening. Ask and listen, they're the experts," she adds, while highlighting Fringe By the Sea as one way the festival is moving out of the concentrated Old Town. Brogan is also on the advisory forum for Edinburgh's Visitor Levy, and is "really excited" about the prospects of it. Councillors in Edinburgh have approved a 5% per night charge, capped at seven nights, which will apply to those staying in hotels, bed and breakfasts, and other forms of accommodation, including holiday lets. "We've got a chance to steer potential decisions and then listen and and take the right path for locals. There's an awful lot of negativity and speculation about something that doesn't actually exist yet," Brogan explains. The advisory forum is meeting in September, where they will be given proposals by the council of what they suggest spending the money on, before members consult and discuss and make recommendations back. She added: "We're the first visitor levy in the UK, there's a lot of people working awfully hard to try and get it right, and I would just urge people to give it a try and get behind and understand the intention, and yes, there's still work to be done, but it's not here yet. "There's still time to make changes and and steer us on the correct course as far as the community and businesses are concerned." Up next ... With the very live concerns of the Free Fringe, the festival acting as an advert for the city, and the visitor levy swirling in my brain, I continued on my quest to see and review 10 shows. Next was Florence, a one-woman show starring and written by Honour Santes Barnes on George Street. The satirical tragicomic play follows the story of an ambitious young woman willing to use any means necessary to secure her success in the art world. Even if it means taking on a new identity. READ MORE: 'Cathartic': Indigenous Celtic heritage shines in Mairi Campbell's Fringe show This was the show's first performance and the crowd loved it. It will definitely be one of the many hits of the festival. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the demographic of the audience (mostly young women) and found that throughout the day, taking in what kind of audience turned up for each show was just as entertaining as the shows themselves. Then, heading back to politics, I ventured to the C-venues on Victoria Terrace. This meant a 20-minute walk up the Mound. It was at this point I realised I had to be much more tactical about my geographical decisions if wanted any chance of seeing 10 shows. With a much-needed coffee, I saw Dreams of Peace and Freedom, a song cycle commemorating Edinburgh-born David Maxwell Fyfe. Fyfe was a prosecuting counsel at the Nuremberg Trials, a human rights lawyer and a key figure in drafting the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR). Performed by descendants of Maxwell, Robert and Lily Blackmore (above), alongside Sue Casson, the trio gave the audience a love letter to Edinburgh, as well as to the values of peace, freedom and remembrance. Three down, and all quite intense, I needed some comedy to perk me up. A change of pace Australian comic Zoe Coombs Marr (below) came to the Monkey Barrel with so much energy for The Splash Zone. The premise of the show is what it means to be "in the splash one" of a comedy show, and who a comedian on stage wants in the audience. It is all rooted in one instance when Marr learned Trump fans were in her audience at one show, and she began to ponder about the relationship between performer and audience. Her crowd work, full-circle jokes, and observational comedy was some of the best I'd seen, and it felt there had been an important topic explored. "If we get locked in our own zones, we lose all the other stuff and people outside," she said at the end. READ MORE: 'We are sovereign': The people's constitution that could see an independent Scotland "We have to stay engaged, keep looking into each other's eyes, and leaning into the discomfort." Marr is also donating 50% of everything she earns during her run to an aid charity supporting those on the ground in Gaza. Afterwards, I went to Love Letter to a Sandwich by Alvin Liu, a performance of One Man Poe by Stephen Smith, When Billy met Alasdair by Alan Bissett, a very late comedy set by Rebecca Lamb, and an even later show called When Time Bends. You can read all reviews from the day here. I saw 9 shows in one day — and loved it As you have probably figured out by now, I did not manage the 10. I ended the Monday night with nine shows under my belt. I did gain a new sense of love for the city — when I hadn't planned to. Yes, the exploitation of artists must be faced, and questions have to be answered over where the money from the Fringe really goes. There also has to be more work done on shifting further towards the festival's candid grassroots origins rather than the current corporate, profit-driven model, acknowledging when the oversaturation of shows should end, as well as the physical and mental toll on both artists, festival staff and other businesses in the city. READ MORE: See the setlist for AC/DC at Edinburgh's Murrayfield Stadium this August However, credit must be given on where organisers are making moves to improve aspects, such as providing mental health support for artists, creating networking hubs for peers, collaborators, agents, and producers, as well as the continued ultimate success of the world's largest arts festival. I thought I'd end the day grumbling, frustrated by the tourists clogging the pavements, the lack of space to move, and the ever-climbing festival ticket prices. But where else on earth could you step out of a show about four people earnestly attempting to 'improve' a ham sandwich with rice and soy sauce, straight into a demonic retelling of Edgar Allan Poe's greatest works, then find yourself in the lobby of a Radisson Blu, deep in conversation with a physicist, before the two of you try to unravel a queer drama where the only person not confused is the director — who is weeping uncontrollably?

Fringe may have to live with Murrayfield clashes after Oasis
Fringe may have to live with Murrayfield clashes after Oasis

The Herald Scotland

time2 hours ago

  • The Herald Scotland

Fringe may have to live with Murrayfield clashes after Oasis

The two tourists waiting patiently behind me to get into a late night comedy show at the Banshee Labyrinth - where Richard Gadd performed before his Golden Globe, Emmy and Bafta success – are sporting garb that has become increasingly familiar sight around the Fringe in recent days: black t-shirts emblazoned with the logo of the band Oasis. Read more: It is almost a year since the Britpop icons confirmed their comeback was definitely on and would be heading to Edinburgh at the height of its festival season. At that time, I was not alone among those involved in Edinburgh's festivals in feeling a sense of despair that much of the next 12 months would be dominated by the three instantly sold-out shows. The questions began to pile up almost immediately across the post-festival landscape which had barely had chance to draw breath after the 2024 season had drawn to a close. Who agreed to that? How on earth will Edinburgh cope? Where will everyone stay? Who is going to be able to afford to come to the Fringe? The levels of excitement about Edinburgh landing some of the biggest reunions shows in the history of British rock music were almost drowned out by the groans about their potential impact on the city's annual cultural fixtures, particularly the Fringe. On the final day of the festivals, the then Fringe Society chief executive Shona McCarthy published a bleak open letter warning that emerging artists, risk and ambition were being 'squeezed out' of the event due to the impact of a 'relentless rise in the cost of everything' and an unhelpful policy environment. Within days, the Fringe was facing the prospect of three Oasis shows sending accommodation prices soaring, not just on the days of the band's concerts, but across the board in Edinburgh. In February, it was confirmed that a fourth Murrayfield concert would be clashing with the August festivals, this time involving rock legends AC/DC playing their only UK show in Murrayfield. By then, Ms McCarthy was in her final weeks in the job, her impending departure, announced in early October, seeming to herald a new, perhaps more uncertain, era for the festival. If those Murrayfield concerts and the rise in hotel prices have undoubtedly dampened demand from some artists and performers to come to Edinburgh this August, there is little evidence of it in how its programme has taken shape in recent months. Published in early June, the final printed programme boasted 3352 shows, the fourth biggest in the 78-year-old history of the event, with 49,512 shows across 265 venues. Remarkably, the festival has grown significantly in the space of the last two months, despite widespread reports over the crippling cost of accommodation in the city. The Fringe Society tell me their latest figures have grown to 54,921 performances of 3913 shows – the highest tally on record - across 308 venues. The big question, as ever, is how ticket sales have gone, especially given the single biggest new addition to the festival calendar since the first events were staged in 1947. As I waited to get the tram home from the city centre on Sunday night, it suddenly struck me that Edinburgh was winding down from what must have been its busiest ever weekend of live events in the city. As far as I could tell, things could not have gone better at Murrayfield. Just three reports were reported from the two concerts – all on the first night – and the vast operation to get almost 70,000 fans in and out of Murrayfield, and in many cases in and out of the city, seemed to go smoothly. Just one Fringe venue operator, Assembly founder William Burdett-Coutts, was prepared to discuss the impact of the Murrayfield concerts on their box office performance, suggesting that the Oasis effect was not as bad as some had feared or predicted. However, tellingly, the Fringe Society has made it clear that it would not be keen on any future Murrayfield concerts clashing with the Fringe in 2026 and beyond, telling The Herald that this year's run has been 'unnecessary pressure on an already busy city.' DF Concerts, the promoters of the Oasis shows, are acutely aware of the biggest issue, the cost of accommodation, which has clearly impacted on fans of the band, who have of course paid eye-watering prices for their tickets, and many of those who have been working on the gigs. So what are the prospects of any similar happening in future years? Pretty strong, I reckon. Senior officials at Scottish Rugby, the game's governing body, was discussing ambitions to host up to 12 concerts a year at Murrayfield in future. There would have been six this year had Billy Joel not cancelled his planned show due to illness. DF Concerts told me the weekend shows and gone 'incredibly well on all fronts.' It will be no surprise if they are inundated with more approaches to use the stadium throughout the year and August is prime time for large-scale outdoor shows. I suspect that everyone involved in the Fringe, the other festivals and the city council will have to live with a new reality of having to grapple with the impact of the Murrayfield concerts, which are nowhere near any other venues hosting events. This will, of course, do nothing to reverse the trend of Edinburgh becoming an increasingly expensive place to visit, especially during its festivals. The need to come up with imaginative, viable solutions, as would happen during major sporting events, seems more pressing than ever, especially given their 80th anniversary is looming in 2027. The Herald has teamed up with to make the purchase of tickets for the Edinburgh Festival Fringe so much easier. To buy tickets, please click here.

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