Rough Trade
Walking from Whitechapel to the Barbican the other day, I dropped in at Rough Trade East.
When I was a teenager, the Rough Trade shops had racks stuffed with dog-eared, photocopied, handmade zines. I would take copies of my music fanzine Homelovin’ to sell there. Such a beautiful way for writing to disseminate. It was through selling Homelovin’ at Rough Trade that I met William; he picked up a copy at the Notting Hill shop and is now one of my oldest friends.
Rough Trade East, which to give it credit somehow navigated the noughties when every record shop was closing, has never had space for frivolities like zines. Their bookshelves are populated by twee gifts like ‘The Little Book of Butterflies’, rock star biographies, Patti Smith tomes. No zines. There are no gaps – no cracks for an alternative culture – for things that might not make much money but are important, vital even, for the fragile ecosystem of art.
Rough Trade doesn’t have wall space to tape up flyers for gigs. Is there anything more beautiful than a layered collage of flyers? Everything is so corporate, branded, curated in 21st Century Britain. All space is monetised. Nothing is allowed to be scruffily human.
The arts as somewhere that won’t let you in has been my experience over the last couple decades; a place that won’t even allow you room for a flyer. A culture that is gatekeepered to the point of absolute crypticism. Obviously something didn’t sit right about my ventures in various fields (theatre, literate, visual art) but it was like nothing was ever enough…the work, the applications, the shows, the documentation, the marketing…nothing ever broke through to allowing even a toehold on the ladder.
Even when I’ve actually done something with an institution – i.e. not asking to do something – one routinely faces absolute flakiness, ghosting, busier-than-thou incompetence. Whereas in comedy I consistently know where I stand: this is the show, this is the time, see you there.
I am 100% at the bottom of comedy – open mics and bringer nights – but already I’ve performed on cool stages, like the Ivy House, done stuff in Zone 1, and played legendary clubs like Downstairs at the King’s Head. It’s fun to feel like you’re, if not progressing, then at least have a trajectory. Big promoters run open mics, established clubs allow absolute beginners to have a shot, anyone can have a pop at the multiple competitions running. One can see a way in.
Below: The Ivy House, Nunhead