Hey, I didn’t tell you about my trip to Islington to see Manuel Cardoso’s gig, did I? I should do it in Portuguese, really, but my brain is still broken and I’m still feeling pretty terrible with the… cold or the sinus infection or whatever it is, so I’m going to take the coward’s way out and write in english instead.
The venue is called The Bill Murray and it’s near The Angel, one of my favourite parts of town, behind the Union Chapel. You have to get off Essex Road and go down a few very boring roads to get to the actual spot though. It’s like a small pub with the back room converted into a venue that holds maybe a hundred people on small chairs around a low square stage about five feet by five. I got there quite early and sat down at the side of the room, but it started to fill up and I moved to allow a couple to sit together. That left me in one of the only remaining empty chairs: right at the edge of the stage where I could reach out and touch the mic stand if I wanted to. I could hear people talking english, including the announcer. I started thinking, well, I guess the show’s going to be in english. Disappointing.
It wasn’t though! As soon as he came on, he started in portuguese, but he read the room and asked “por palmas” , (by round of applause) how many portuguese people were in. Then he asked had anyone brought a non-portuguese friend with them who didn’t speak the language. A few boyfriends were pointed at and raised their hands sheepishly. There might have been a few who had come on their own and didn’t even understand the question but we’ll never know. Anyway, he told them they were in for a rough ride and gave them a joke in english – an off-colour gag about Ronaldo – and then went back to his routine. I was really, really close to where he was standing and I felt a bit self conscious. If I looked completely baffled I was going to stand out like a sore thumb at that range, so I made sure not to let my expression go slack at any point.
I actually understood most of it though, thank god. Obviously, he was talking fast, using a lot of slang, and talking about things that would only make sense if you were steeped in the culture, so there were definitely gaps, but I laughed extra-loudly at the jokes I actually got, partly because they were funny, and partly because I was so happy to have understood them. I was especially glad to get the ones that made reference to pop culture memes: “My sex life is like Leiria. It exists, but it’s not that amazing” for example. Or politics “João Galamba was found to have weed in his house… well, at last we have a politician ‘sem filtro'”.
Sometimes, I got the words but not why it was funny. Like there was a stretch where he was pretending to be a lovestruck man talking to his girlfriend on the phone and I laughed at alost every protestation of love he made, but one of the compliments he gave her was that her breasts were like chips ahoy cookies. Er… OK…
Other times, I totally missed the reference. Like, at one point everyone in the room did that sort of wincing laughter, you know, when someone makes a really near-the-knuckle joke. He was already doing a routine about kidnapping children, which I wasn’t really vibing with, but people seemed to be enjoying, but he said something about you can’t just walk into the Hotel da Luz and steal a baby. “Now, the Praia de Luz, on the other hand…” I didn’t get it straight away but obviously should have guessed it was a Madeleine McCann reference. That’s an example where you’d probably laugh from the shock value if the timing was right, but if you’re on a slight delay while your brain processes it, the effect is lost.
The whole thing was over pretty quickly: started at 6.30 and finished by 7.30. I really enjoyed it though, and I definitely want to do this again. I must follow more comedians on instagram so I can see when their tours are coming up.
Luso 