Pity poor Gordon Southern and his percussive accomplice, for they are the ones who have set themselves the task of moving a drum kit between the Gilded Balloon Teviot and the spectacularly hidden, dark, dank and smelly Caves of South Niddry Street on a daily basis. It would have been very easy (and dull) for Southern to lampoon the drumming stereotypes, which would have provided him with an endless queue of guitarist and keyboard players, but instead, he takes a more intriguing look at three of the best known players from history.
Aware that his youth is fast disappearing, he must make the choice between the live fast, die young tendencies of Keith Moon and John Bonham, or the live-slightly-slower-and-last-longer life of Ringo Starr. The three biographies are whizzed through, with references aplenty to the usual sex, drugs and rock n’ roll attitude that prevails over the shows subjects.
Southern doesn’t do badly for a comedian performing material about music. He introduces a drummer friend to play the parts for him (he explains that it’s very difficult to tell jokes and lay down a beat at the same time), and wins the crowd early on by berating jazz, performing middle-class rap and link everything top notch patter. Plenty of topical musical jokes are thrown in for extremely good measure, all leading to a decisive finish - a Walking with Dinosaurs style summary of the benefits of the lives lived by each of the three legends.
Contrary to popular belief, My Drums Hell should appeal to everyone with a passing interest in music. It can’t be classed as a record-breaking Fringe spectacular, but it does provide the opportunity to see an up and coming comic in a very non-standard and original performance.
3/5
Simon Ferguson
