Lloyd Langford: Every Day I Have the Blues

Review by Marthe Lamp Sandvik | 20 Aug 2009

Set in the intimate space of the Pleasance Below, Lloyd Langford’s comedy routine is all about reasons to be blue. Reasons like having big feet, being squeamish, and feeling bad for unwanted sex toys. Langford seems comfortably set in his own inadequacies, paradoxically confident about his pathetic nature. As an example, he shows the audience the bumps on his head, apparently scars from a fainting fit he once had upon being served a steak and kidney pie. He's also a nice guy: the sort who would take magic mushrooms against his will, just so that you don't have to take too many yourself.

It's an innocent and charming show, and for a comedian who describes himself as socially awkward, Langford manages to make his own ineptness incredibly endearing, making it impossible not to warm to him. Whilst his style smacks of awkwardness and timidity, it's actually very well-honed and you never feel like he's in any real danger of losing the plot. However, the material does seem a bit to thin to fill an hour, as if his nervousness had made him stop short of telling us too much. This prevents the show from reaching any sort of satisfying climax. But give Langford a year or two to turn a few more inadequacies into comedy, and he could be on to a real winner.