Tangents and Self-Sabotage with Tom Lawrinson
Best known for his off-the-wall online sketches, we chat to stand-up Tom Lawrinson about his debut tour show
With an Instagram following of nearly 100k, it is a fair possibility that you will already be familiar with the mind of Tom Lawrinson, or at least a fraction of it. It’s a mind that churns out content, blurring the line between the mundane and the abstract, grasping at universal experiences and warping them into hysterical worlds of madness and obscurity.
In a way, there are parallels between Lawrinson’s content and that of Tim Robinson, as both comics plant their skits in the pasture of the humdrum and allow their ideas to sprout into the absurd and lucid.
You can immediately see Lawrinson’s process at work. Seconds into our chat, the comic lurches into a ramble about clouds, before swiftly diverting to a conversation about his lengthy obsession with collecting shoe boxes, then ceilings and chocolate wrappers. Within 20 minutes, he’s expressed his opinions of TV remotes, tangerines and trousers (passionately vouching that they are unequivocally the worst item of clothing).
His ease to form such incisive opinions on anything is fascinating as he lunges from one rant to another. There’s a delightfully playful cynicism to each excursion. Be it the shelf-life of pears or advocating for flat caps, Lawrinson picks up on life’s myriad of imperfections with a phenomenal perception, as if he were on stage.
“I always think that’s exactly how people bond – the funniest person in the room is always the person most pissed off. There’s something harmonious about meeting up with your friends and you all take turns just complaining.” This rings true in the bulk of his viral videos. Many stem from the most minute inconveniences in daily life. “You do get people who don’t complain,” confesses Lawrinson, “but they’re just not funny.”
His debut tour show, titled Buried Alive (And Loving It), comes to Edinburgh and Glasgow this month. Performed at last year’s Fringe, Lawrinson says it’s about finding a way to laugh at misfortune. “I reckon if that happened to me, I’d be able to see the funny side of it – it always makes me chuckle when something goes to shit.”
Tom Lawrinson. Image: Drew Forsyth.
The show follows a young Lawrinson struggling through life. “Come and see it if you want – I’m not arsed,” he says with a wry chuckle, scratching his head for a more sincere plug. “It’s about me growing up in Spain until chaos ensues.”
The absurdity in Lawrinson’s work, both online and on stage creeps up on you, until you are fully engulfed in his madness. “That’s how my conversations work. One moment we'll be discussing a nice night's sleep, the next we’re suddenly debating who’s wearing underwear on their head. I always think that’s the funniest part of hanging out with friends, watching it snowball and evolve.”
Applying that aptitude for observation, the comic’s keen to distil what he notices about people. “I reckon there’s maybe 20 people, maximum – and we all stem from them,” he tells us. “We all share those tricksy little moments of embarrassment or shame or whatever it is, and I enjoy exploring them. Those moments of self-sabotage that you can’t explain”.
And as our conversation continues, Lawrinson tiptoes ever-closer to absolute absurdity. With a confident swagger he’s goading the conversation to dive into the ludicrous at any moment. “I’ve definitely lost opportunities this way,” he giggles to himself. “It could be a very important business meeting, and if I get a whiff that someone in the room would rather discuss their favourite fish, I’ll be running down that road straight away! I might lose jobs, but I make connections.” Self-sabotage at its finest.
It’s a sentiment which extends to his comedy career in whichever medium he’s using. “A live gig people only see once, a video can get rewatched 100 times and people pick up on the minutiae. In the room you judge it on the laugh in the moment, a fake laugh is far less rewarding than silence.” Lawrinson goes on to say, “I think my favourite bit of feedback both on stage and in video is when people say ‘I liked the start but then it got stupid, or then you ruined it by getting weird!’ I get a kick out of pushing it to the brink.”
Tom Lawrinson: Buried Alive (And Loving It), The Stand Edinburgh, 18 May, 8.30pm and The Stand Glasgow, 19 May, 8.30pm, £15-16
@tomlawrinson on Instagram and Tiktok