Big man = big support slots to fill
Filling the difficult slots before the enigmatic Bill Bailey, Kevin Day and Paul Tonkinson took to the comedy stage confronted by an audience twitchy with anticipation. Day, on first, broke the ice by admitting he’d be cowardly enough to sit next to a pregnant woman to absorb a bomb blast before overcoming his post Princess Diana gig nerves to launch into his satirical take on current political events.
As his half hour unfolded, Day held little back before the Latitude watershed – criticising Prince Harry, the Territorial Army and Great Yarmouth before settling on a tribute to breasts and their unrivalled superiority as a female asset.
As such, Day plays upon some well worn material to hold up his act – relying on some fairly over used jokes. However, he mixed them well with his more serious infuriation with George Bush and religion and astutely commented on how to defy terrorism with WAGs, take a dig at Chavs, and British ignorance of foreigners.
After Day bowed out, Yorkshire born Paul Tonkinson brought his Xfm breakfast show charm to bear with a re-enactment of Wimbledon with Wayne Rooney – the original scouser – as the replacement star for a dejected Tim Henman, before taking a side track to paint a picture of the Rooney as Gollum, emerging from the Mersey with a fish in his mouth.
Tonkinson saved his main gripe for relationships, sharing his obviously painful memories of failed marital bliss, as well as giving advice on the dangers of an innocent cheese and ham sandwich. He then turned sex counsellor, giving advice on blow jobs and teasing the audience by placing himself firmly in the minds of post-coital men everywhere:
"Next time that happens to you, you'll think of me, my face will just pop up. Honest," he says (or wishes).
The break added another couple of hundred to the crowd before Bill Bailey had his turn. Bailey, who came on to the tune of The Killers' 'All These Things That I Have Done' (sample lyric: "I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier") pointed out the pointlessness, or "bollocks" of lyrics in general while adding his own "I got ham but I'm not a hamster" forte to the Killers waffle.
From then on there was no going back: five minutes wouldn't pass without the 'I'm Bill bailey it's great to be here, boy did you enjoy Glastonbury - I did' chat rebounding incessantly from the Teflon walls. Obsessive self introductions aside, Bailey produced a fine set of comedy musical drama, proving himself adept at both trouncing channel 4 for ditching his show about door mice and discovering the keyboard as an instrument of comedy genius. Musical highlights included using the pink panther as the national anthem and cajoling the audience into choosing Iceland as a political vacuum with Bjork the only lady to fill it. And Bailey is possibly the only UK comedian who can pull of a German electro-funk version of 'Three times a lady' to resounding applause, completing a comfortable set from the big man.
Tim Clark