7. What’s the worst thing about being a comedian?
I suppose the fact that you're always replaceable. You know that if you stopped doing it tomorrow, your place would be taken by dozens of similar acts; the gap would fill up instantly. Your talent is disposable and some sectors of the industry (television, for example) like to keep reminding you of that. Also, it makes you into a narcissist if you're not careful. Also, you can never have a day off sick unless you're basically dead. Finally, taxi drivers always want to tell you which comedians they think are overrated. None of these drawbacks change the fact that, by most measures, it is a very good job if you can get it.
8. I think you are very good at what you do (that’s why I’m asking these questions). What do you think of you?
I think I'm competent at what I do, and competence gets you a surprisingly long way. I'm constantly striving to improve, but it's not always clear how to do that. Unless you're reading this with the idea you might come to my DVD record, in which case: I am an entertainment phenomenon.
9. How much do you earn and how much would you like to earn?
I earn a pretty handsome wage in relation to nurses, firemen and other more deserving people. Of course, my income is highly variable and dependent on my wavering levels of luck and popularity. How much would I like to earn? About 10 percent more, like probably everyone else in the country.
10. How important is luck in terms of career success – have you had lucky breaks?
It's much more important than people acknowledge, in career success and in general life. I've certainly had a number of breaks, the biggest one being the fact I began just at a time when stand-up was acquiring a higher profile than it had ever had before. If I'd begun 10 years earlier, I'd probably be part of a talented and slightly embittered pool of club comics who never got what they deserved out of it; 10 years later, I'd sink in the morass of similar white well-educated comics. So much of life is like that, I think: the right place at the right time.
11. Alan Davies has said that comedians fall into two categories - golfers and self-harmers. The former just get on with life, the latter are tortured artists. Which are you – or do you think you fit into a third category?
More of a self-harmer, I think. The 'tortured artist' idea is a bit tiresome and self-indulgent; I don't lay claim to any special status just because I've decided to talk in front of people. But if it's true that, say, 50 percent of comedians are more prone to beating themselves up than looking contentedly out of the window, then I'm certainly one of them. It's not in my nature to feel everything is dandy. If I WERE a golfer, I'd probably be furious about my putting.
12. Who is your favourite person ever and why - not including family or friends or other comedians?
Big question. I'm a great admirer of the musician Gruff Rhys (of the Super Furry Animals), of Thomas Edison (because of the number of valuable things he said about creativity) - well, lots of people. Paula Radcliffe. BS Johnson. George Orwell. But it's possible that any of them would be disappointing to meet - or that I'd be disappointing to them. So I'm reluctant to name any of them as my favourite ever. There's also Derren Brown, whom I HAVE met, but he might read this and find it creepy. I'm going to play it cool.
