How would you describe your style of comedy?
Honest. Too honest. It’s got to the point where my family don’t want to tell me anything. I’ll sit with my nan, she’ll have a drink and tell me stories – and it’s the best stuff I’ve ever heard. I’m almost like a detective, holding a little clipboard. There’s loads of stuff in my family that I still don’t know. Every now and again I find something else out because my nan has had half a bottle of ginger wine. I like people to know where I’m from and what I’m about. I think sometimes people see you on TV shows and think everything is rosy, look at him in his skates [on ITV’s Dancing on Ice], he must be living the life. But that’s just a moment in time, the real me and my life is very different.
Can you recall a gig so bad, it’s now funny?
Here’s a little tip for new comics … When you do audience interaction, don’t touch them. I was quite a new comic and I was doing a gig in the Black Country. There was a guy sitting in the crowd who looked like Jesus. I shook his hand and he pulled me towards him. I think he was trying to be funny. Then I pulled him. I was a 22-year-old man, I was strong. I pulled him and not only did he fall off the chair, he knocked all 17 pints off the table.
Describe the perfect gig
There has to be some form of stage. You can tell I’ve done my fair share of gigs in a Wetherspoon’s! Even if it’s a two-by-four, just give me something to stand on so I can talk. A perfect gig is low ceiling, 100 people, no tables, everybody facing the stage, and a good spotlight. The mic can’t be cordless. There’s something about cordless mics that comedians hate. We can’t work them. My ideal gig is any gig that has a mic with a cord. That’s it. And if I’m in a pub, can they at least turn the TV off.
You host a show with Rachel Fairburn called You Dress Funny. What’s the thought behind comedy in fancy dress?
When I was growing up in comedy, all comedians dressed like garbage. They didn’t care about what they wore, and they’d admit it. In 2011, Andi Osho was on Live at the Apollo and I remember seeing her outfit and thinking: “Wow, she looks like she’s about to sing a Bond theme.” She was properly dressed up. From then on, female comedians really started to dress up and slowly male comedians started to make an effort with what they wear. Nowadays, a lot of comedians are quite stylish.
We came up with this idea of getting comedians to wear items of clothing on stage they would never normally wear. I wanted to see how that made them feel doing their sets. Wedding dresses have become very popular on the show. Esther Manito was the first one. She wore her wedding dress for the first time in years. It’s got to that point now where whenever a comedian gets married, I’m like: “Keep that. I’ll have a use for it. I know you think you’re only going to wear that once, but you’ll wear it at least twice.”
What’s your new show, Roadman, about?
I’m now in my mid-30s. By the end of the run in Edinburgh, I’ll turn 35 and that is the same age as my dad when he passed away. It’s really hit me hard. I’m starting to question everything in my life and what I’m doing and where I’m at. I talk about my family, my home life, pop culture and some stuff that’s a little more topical. It’s all woven in because I’ve always been that sort of comedian who can’t help himself when he sees something in the news that’s a little bit silly. I also talk about trying to learn Japanese and trying to do some Latin dance.
Do you have a comedy hero?
I always used to like American comics. My favourite comedian for honesty was always Patrice O’Neal. The most legendary standup set for me, which was probably the reason I became obsessed with comedy, was Omid Djalili’s Live at the Apollo set. Still now, I remember watching it in my nan’s house as a 14-year-old boy. He comes out, and he’s doing a terrorist character, putting on a thick accent, doing terrorist jokes … then he’d sing a song. It was just so silly. Halfway through his set he just goes, “Oh I can’t keep it up,” and starts talking normally. I remember thinking: “Whatever he just did, I want to do something like that.” It’s crazy because it’s seven minutes of comedy. It’s just by chance I was at home and I saw it.
• Darren Harriot: Roadman is at Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh, 2-27 August and touring the UK from September
