Believing in what you have to say, beating nerves and making it in competitive worlds with Tom Mayhew
Illustration by Cath Garvey.
Tom Mayhew is a comedian. His 2019 Edinburgh Fringe show, I, Tom Mayhew, was a big success, and led to a sold-out run at the Soho Theatre in London this January. He’s got a four-part comedy series on BBC Radio 4 coming out in the spring.
Back in the mists of time, when we could go out and see things, I went along with a friend to one of those Soho Theatre gigs. She’d bought the tickets – I just turned up having done, unusually for me, zero research on what I was about to see. I had no idea who Tom was (sorry Tom).
I’ve sat through plenty of gigs by respected comedians where the gags are about how hard it is to be male/middle class/to procure coke in the countryside/to get a date. Meanwhile, I’d be sat there wondering why I was the only one who wasn’t laughing, and counting down the minutes until I could get out. Which was perhaps why I left Tom’s show feeling like I’d been knocked around the head.
This was the first time I’d seen comedy on a major London stage about being chronically skint, about the indignity of scrabbling for work, about the benefits system, about just how much family shapes our values and identity. It sounds depressing, but it wasn't – it was real and heartfelt, and it said something about the world we live in. It resonated, and most importantly, was funny.
It made me realise, not for the first time, how barely any work made by people from low-income backgrounds makes it to the mainstream.
I’m so pleased Tom said he’d have a chat with me about how he got to where he is now. We’re talking about making it in the comedy world, but his advice applies to a lot of different industries – from how to deal with public speaking, to believing in yourself, to the value of sheer, dogged persistence when it comes to getting what you want.
“Something kind of snaps and you go from not liking your situation, to being annoyed about your situation, to wanting to change the situation”
Olivia Gagan: Where did it all start? When did comedy first enter your mind is something you might like to do for a living?
Tom Mayhew: I know some kids when they're really young, are like, ‘Oh, I want to be an astronaut or a train driver.’ I never really knew what I wanted to do. But as I grew older, I found I would always be the person making people laugh – and I just thought, I like this feeling. I discovered stand-up comedy when I was about 12. I was like, ‘That sounds amazing. You just do this job where you make people happy and you get paid for it. I want to do that.’ Before that, I never had a dream job.
Olivia: Were there any role models or people that could show you the way into this profession? Did you know any comedians?
Tom: No, I knew absolutely no one. My mum works at Boots. She had absolutely no idea what any of this was. My dad used to be a warehouse worker. I remember when I did my first gig, his first reaction was, ‘Oh, did you get paid?’ I was like, ‘no, why would I get paid!?’
Olivia: So how do you come up with a game plan? Where do you start? Did you plot a path, or were you very much stumbling in the dark towards doing it for a living?
Tom: Well, I think we're quite lucky as a generation in that growing up, we had the internet, which meant you could always find information. So when I was 14, 15, I spent a lot of time listening to interviews with comedians, reading interviews and articles or watching things on YouTube, just learning about their early gigs and how they went about it.
I started going through the Chortle.com forums, which don't exist now because they've been replaced by Facebook. It was just a forum with people going, ‘Oh, I've got this gig, does anyone want to do it?’ It’s kind of mad how easy it is to get gigs. Often it’s literally just a person saying, ‘Oh, I need 12 people to do this gig.’ You send them an email, and suddenly you're on a lineup.
It's strangely simple to do. At the higher levels of comedy, there is an insane amount of work that goes into staging a gig. But at the lower level, it's just a bloke or a woman who owns a PA system, who’s rented a room and they've got some people they don't know to turn up and tell jokes. It's mad.
Olivia: Which I guess is also really exciting. There's always that element with an open mic of anything could happen, right? There's a lot of excitement and energy you can get from that. But I hate public speaking. The idea of doing what you do is like my personal hell. Were you nervous when you did your first few gigs? Did you have any fear of getting up on a stage?
Tom: I was really nervous. I started when I was 18, and I was always quiet, very shy and quite awkward growing up. I hated doing public speaking, or doing anything publicly. We'd have a school play, and I'd always want to be a stage hand. I wanted to be behind the scenes.
So there would be comedy gigs early on where I would run away. I would travel for an hour to get to the venue, then get so nervous when I got there that I just left and went home. I'd be there thinking, ‘God, I've just spent 50 quid on doing nothing. What am I doing?’
I was properly nervous early on. But, I also knew it was something that I really, really wanted to do. So I told myself, look, you have to just do this, and force yourself to get out there. I hated the idea of being one of those people who, when they’re 50, looks back and goes, ‘God, I wish I’d done that’. Now I'm far more comfortable with being on stage, simply because I've done loads of it. It probably took me about 50, 60 gigs, but you eventually realise that there's nothing horrendous that's going to happen. Really. The majority of audiences want you to do well.
Olivia: It sounds simple to at least start out in comedy – you research online, you find out where an open mic or a pub gig is happening, you sign up and suddenly you're performing. But I imagine there’s mental obstacles you have to overcome to be able to think, ‘yeah, I can stand up in front of people and maybe they will enjoy listening to me.’ There's got to be some element of self-belief or self-confidence that you have to develop in order to feel like you can do that.
Tom: Yes. Just to sign up for a gig, you need quite a bit of self-belief. Earlier on, I didn't believe in myself, but I believed in my writing. I didn't believe in me as a human, either on or off stage, but I believed that what I'd written was funny. So even though I’d think ‘I might perform this really awfully’, I was still like, ‘yeah, but I believe in the jokes. I know how to write funny things.’
But it did mean that early on, my stage persona was very self-deprecating, very awkward. I wouldn't even look at the audience. I had a lot of self-doubt, so I just worked that into my persona. As a performer, I basically went, ‘Okay. My act is going to be that I'm really awkward and nervous, but I've got strong jokes.’ I worked it into my act.
Olivia: Has that persona shifted at all? How do you present on stage now?
Tom: I'm never going to be a huge, brash, loud, in-your-face kind of comedian. I always want to be quite nice and quiet – I'm not interested in being aggressive or scaring people. So I kind of just speak at my normal volume. There's always going to be that gentle, non-confrontational approach. But I’m more confident now.
The people who saw me at my first gig, if they saw me now, would be like, ‘Oh, look how far you've come! That was amazing.’ But then people who haven't seen me before, might still think, ‘Oh, he's not the most confident person’, just because that's how I am. I'm never going to grab people by the face and be like, ‘look at me!’.
I'm just going to go on stage and be like, ‘These are my jokes. You’ll either like them or you won't.’ I think after you've done comedy for a while, you have a confidence and a level of competence where you feel, if people don't want it, I'm going to do it anyway. You're not as bothered if people aren’t paying attention or if they don't like it. You can shrug it off a lot easier when you already know there are some people out there who do like what you do.
Olivia: What were you making jokes about right at the start?
Tom: Right at the start? Jokes about being lonely and sad and depressed. That was the main theme of my writing, because that was how I felt off stage.
Olivia: I guess then as you grew older, you had more life experiences, and your comedy started reflecting that.
Tom: Definitely. I think your work should grow with you, you know? You shouldn't still be writing jokes at 25 that you would write when you were 20. When I was 18, I didn't like a lot of aspects of myself and of my life, whereas now, it’s different.
Olivia: Would it be fair to say it became more political as well as you got older, and as you grew as a comedian?
Tom: I didn't necessarily get more political, I just got more confident. When I first started gigging at 21, off-stage I would be thinking: ‘I'm doing really badly at life, because I haven't got much money, and I'm on benefits, I can't find a job and it's all my fault’. Between then and now, I went from going, ‘Oh, I really don't like myself because of this,’ to now, where I question those thoughts, and go, ‘actually, no, I'm not annoyed at myself. I'm annoyed at a system that makes people feel this way. A system that makes people feel like they should be ashamed of being poor, or being what is deemed lower class.’
Eventually I just went, ‘No. This is not my fault.' I've worked really, really hard.’ You have that moment where you grow a bit, and you realise something. Something kind of snaps and you go from not liking your situation, to being annoyed about your situation, to wanting to change the situation.
Olivia: That leads perfectly onto what I wanted to ask you about next, which is ‘I, Tom Mayhew’. It’s the show that has propelled your career the most. It’s also the one I've seen in-person, so I'm interested to hear about the genesis of it. What was behind you writing that show?
Tom: It was definitely a breakout for me. That was the show that made people sit up and start paying attention.
The idea came from a show I made in 2017. It's really expensive to take a show to the Edinburgh Fringe. I was working at Sainsbury's, and I had to basically put aside 70% of my yearly income to afford to take my show there. I didn't even think twice about it – I just went, ‘Well, this is what I want to do. I really care about comedy, and I care about trying to make it, so I'll do that.’
But then the show didn't go great. It just went completely under the radar. It was really hard to get people to come to see it, and no one really even knew about it. In 2019, people were saying to me, "this is your first show, right?" People didn't know I'd done other shows, because I couldn't afford a PR to publicise them. That show left me feeling very frustrated with the industry, and well, society generally, because I was like, ‘I've got stuff to say.’
Olivia: It sounds like it wasn't just something you did on a whim, either. That must have taken a hell of a lot of sacrifice to finance it.
Tom: Definitely, 100%. And that’s the thing – it was such a huge chunk of my earnings, and my life I’d put into it. But it still wasn't enough. There’s an idea that things are judged on their own merit, and that ‘if you build it, they will come.’ But the reality is, you need money to build things. And then you need to ideally have money for PR, and to have an agent, and to have industry contacts, and to know people in the right places.
Most things that you see on TV, or that you read about it in the media, it's because the makers either had a lot of money to help kickstart them, or they have an agent or publicists who have money to help get them to where they are.
Olivia: Or the money to sustain them, while they build their career. I don't really believe in overnight success. I think it takes most people a decade, if not more, to get anywhere in most industries. But being able to stay underpaid for any period of time is impossible for many people. Many people give up because they have to, because they can't afford to keep going.
Tom: Well, yeah. The reality is that a lot of us have had to get second jobs this year, because we lost our job, and most comedians, we’re not on the big bucks. If people see on Twitter, Oh, you're a standup comedian, they probably think, ‘God, like Michael McIntyre? You must be on £200K a year.’
Olivia: I was thinking about the comedy and comedians that get really big and mainstream. It seems to rely on broad appeal and broad relatability. The stuff that you see on telly, the Michael McIntyre’s maybe of the world – it's almost like easy listening. Whereas your comedy is quite confronting. Do you ever worry that by its nature, you’re not going to appeal to the mainstream? Or is that something you don’t worry about?
Tom: Not really. I think there comes a point when you're working on what you want to say, or what you want to do, where you work out what kind of comedian you want to be. There was a point where I thought, ‘Oh, I could try and be one of those mainstream comedians.’ But the reality is, there will be other people who are trying to be mainstream comedians, who have come from better backgrounds than me. They will be better suited. They may be more conventionally attractive. They probably would have better contacts, so they'd have a better chance.
I think if you make art, it should be stuff that you really care about. It should be stuff that you're passionate about, that drives you. A lot of mainstream comedy, I can sit down and enjoy it, but at the same time it doesn't make you feel anything. It’s like some pop music – you listen and go, ‘Oh, that was nice,’ but it's not gonna change your day. I think there's definitely a place for that, but it's not where I want to be.
I want to write stuff that I care about, that means something to me, that I think is important. I’m aware that means it could be harder to find an audience. But in another sense, I think especially nowadays with the internet, if you have a niche, hopefully people who have experience of what you’re talking about will find you. The only problem I've got is that my niche is people who are skint and on benefits. Who fundamentally cannot support me financially, but I'm alright with that.
Olivia: I'm going to contradict what I just said, but if you're making stuff that is true to you, that is coming from a place of truthfulness, then most people can connect to it on a broader emotional level. Whatever part of society you're from, most people have felt misunderstood, or left behind at some point. Maybe you don't necessarily have to have had exactly the same upbringing as somebody, to be able to empathise with them. Hopefully.
Tom: Yeah, definitely. When I was working on the show I thought, well, I know full well that not everyone in the audience will be able to relate to this, or will have experienced the same things. But I was sure that there was enough in there that they would feel it.
Olivia: To me there's something quite vulnerable about standing on a stage and making a joke, because there's always the risk it won't land. And talking about your personal life and your upbringing and your experiences requires a lot of vulnerability too. Do you feel vulnerable when you're standing on a stage and talking about yourself?
Tom: All the things that are really personal, that mean lot to me, the first time I talk about them on stage, I’ll be feeling sick to my stomach. I'll be so scared and so worried, and saying to myself, ‘Oh, don't do that. Just tell them the wanking joke. Don't tell them the personal stuff. Tell them the easy stuff, because that works, you know the joke will land, it’ll make people laugh.’ There will always be that part of my head that is trying to say, ‘Don't talk about those things.’ Because there is a risk. It's you putting yourself out there. It’s not just you thinking, ‘Will they find me funny or not? It's you thinking, ‘Will these people completely disapprove of my existence?’
So yeah, there will be nerves and worry the first few times I do something. But eventually, I've always got this drive where it's like, you know what? These are things that are important to me. I want to talk about them. So I'm going to force myself to get comfortable. Any confidence I have has come with time and experience. Even if it takes me 20 times, when I'm on stage, I'm going to force myself to have that competence and believe in what I'm saying, because it matters. And also because society tells us not to talk about these things.
Olivia: How much can you read an audience from the stage? Can you feel when a gig's going well, or badly? How much do you feed off the audience's energy and responses to what you're saying?
Tom: Usually you can tell who is really into it, who's enjoying it. And that's not always audible – sometimes you can tell people are enjoying it just by their facial expressions. If you can see them leaning in towards you, even if they've not laughed, you can tell they've engaged. So you can always read people's body language and tell whether they're really enjoying you – or whether they checking their phone, because they want to go home. You can always pick up on those little signs.
Olivia: Do you ever adapt your show to the mood of the audience?
Tom: I try and do that every time. I always have parts in my stand up where I ask the audience a question, like, 'Anyone here who’s working class?' Or 'Anyone here who has ever signed on?', or 'Does anyone here like football?' Open questions, so I can then talk to an audience member and then shape parts of the routine around what they say back to me. It's more fun, and I think that's what live performance and particularly comedy should be. You shouldn't perform like an actor. You should give spaces where people can respond, because then everyone's in it together. It means you might say something one night that you'll never say again, but then that makes that one night really special.
Olivia: Do you get a burst of energy from performing, or is it something you find really draining?
Tom: No, I love it. I get a real buzz from it, and I don't want to sleep after a gig's gone really well. It's always fun, and I've missed not being able to do it recently.
Olivia: This year must have been difficult, then, because live shows are off the table. Budgets that were tiny to begin with have become non-existent. How have you found being creative this year? Having a whole year where you're not going to be doing a lot of socialising…suddenly you've got more time to write, or to think. But we're in a global pandemic. How have you found writing and creating this year?
Tom: Up and down? There’s been points where I’ve felt I can really get stuff done, but there have been other points where you need to give yourself time to process what is happening, and to take yourself out of it all for a bit and just watch telly for a distraction. I don't think anyone would be able to say they've been creative full-stop for the past nine months. No one has been when we’re dealing with all this stuff, both the emotional and mental effects of a pandemic. There have been some points where it's been great, other times where it’s been awful. I’ll be very happy when things can go back to normal.
Olivia: You've also had the bizarre situation this year of signing back on to Universal Credit, and then now you’ve got a new BBC show coming up. I feel like there's a lot of judgment and assumptions made about people who are claiming benefits. And there's a lot of middle-class kudos attached to the BBC and to Radio 4. How do you define success? If people say, being on benefits means you're not successful. And then people also say, having your own Radio Four show means you're really bloody successful. How do you balance the two in your head?
Tom: It's difficult, but I think it makes a very strong point that basically backs up the point of my show. I’m saying people on benefits can also be very talented, very intelligent, very hard-working – and if you don't believe that, then you’re the problem. You know what I mean? It’s been a horrible, really difficult situation for me to find myself in this year. But hopefully looking back, I'll be able to say, look, someone could literally be signing on one day, and then working for Radio Four the next. So you can't judge people who are on benefits. It's…snobbishness. It's just classist. Really, that's all it ever is.
This whole year for me has just exemplified how close everyone can be, if they're from a working class background, to needing to sign on. Because I'd gone from having the most financially successful three months of my entire life at the start of 2020, to signing on the very next month. Then when I stopped that, it was to write for the BBC. I know that's insane – it makes no sense, logically – but that's what my year has been.
Olivia: I think that's key. Life isn’t logical. It’s not a case of, if you do X and Y then you'll end up as Z, on benefits. Or if you do M and N then you’ll get O, where you’re always going to be comfortable and you will definitely earn a good living. You can't make those easy assumptions.
Tom: You can do everything you're supposed to do [to earn a living]. And then there could be, oh, I don’t know, another global recession in our lifetime. We could have another pandemic. Then suddenly all the jobs have gone, and you still need money to come in. I think a lot of people like to believe that people who are poor, or people who are on benefits, that it’s entirely that person's fault. That all success comes down to your individual effort, and your individual brilliance. Whereas things like recessions and the pandemic should show people that no, there's a lot more at play. If you believe that you are 100% the master of your own destiny...then you know, you're a moron.
Olivia: What’s in your first aid kit to keep you as sane and healthy as possible, and how has that first aid kit evolved over the years?
Tom: Um, antidepressants. Very important. I’d probably not be here without them, so I would say that they're very useful. Regular cups of tea, many, many cups of tea a day, probably too many. One of the things I’ve learned, which I didn't know in the past, is to speak to people. Not to be afraid to say sometimes, ‘Look, I'm not feeling great. I need to be on my own.’ It's so crucial to just say what you think and say what you feel. It's very easy to give yourself a million reasons not to, but then that's probably what you need to do if you're not feeling great.
Olivia: Yeah. And you do it the first few times and you realise the world doesn't cave in, you don't get dumped, and your friends don't run away if you occasionally say, ‘I don't feel fantastic today.’ Turns out they're fine with it.
Tom: Yeah, totally. That's the thing you need to have confidence in – the fact that you are going to have some days where you feel crap, and to almost embrace those days a bit. Just to be a bit kinder to yourself.
Olivia: What would you like to do in the future? How would you like your career to grow?
Tom: I don't really know at the moment. That would have been a much easier question this time nine months ago. It feels like a lot of people's plans and a lot of people's careers have changed trajectory. We don't really know what paths are going to be open to us. Ideally, I would just like to be making an actual living from comedy.
I think a lot of people from poorer backgrounds probably would relate to this…some days I want millions of pounds. I want to be able to afford everything. I want to be a Robin Hood figure with £10 billion and having an incredible level of comfort, all that stuff. Whereas other days I'm like, ‘if I earn 15 grand a year from this, I’ll be happy with that.’
I think a lot of people do flip between the two because, you know, on one hand, I want to be this insane millionaire person who is financially comfortable, who can really help people out. But then also, realistically, I've known people who've done far worse jobs than me and scraped a living.
Olivia: For someone that is working class and would like to be a comedian, what, what is the best advice you can give them?
Tom: Oh, that's a big question. I would say don't be ashamed of where you come from, of who you are and what you are. If you embrace your passion and your drive and your commitment you are bound to eventually find something to say that will make you stand out, even if you don't have the money to help you stand out right now. It's also going to be hard. But you have a unique upbringing that is not represented often in standup or comedy. So I’d embrace that – and force people to listen, whether they want to or not.