Purple Ronnie's Stand Up Poetry Club

Purple Ronnie's Stand Up Poetry Club

20 November, 2009
by: Emma

"Guy Fawkes – the only man to ever enter parliament with honest intentions."

This is the rousing introduction to one of Attila the Stockbroker's poems, renowned for their socialist vitriol and passionate verse. We are at Purple Ronnie's Stand Up Poetry Club in the Monto Water Rats and it just got political. From lampooning New Labour's support of the Iraq war ("Will the last person Left please turn off the lights/New Labour just f*** off and die") to an ironic rant against asylum seekers (Asylum-seeking Daleks/are landing here at noon!/Why can't we simply send them back/or stick them on the moon?"), you can't help but admire Attila's energy and resolution. Dressed in a Rancid hoodie and baggy jeans, his views are so black and white that it's hard to appreciate every sentiment. Supermodels for example, are dismissed as having "no character, no love, no personality - no brain" but what do you expect? He's a loud and proud punk and they encapsulate everything he stands against.

Then our expectations are smashed, because Attila treats us to a rare glimpse of his soft side - a poem written for his mum who, for the last few years, has had Alzheimer's. He tells us he has only read it to one other person so far – and she told him to perform it tonight: "This is the first time, and could be the last time, I will ever do this". It is a poem to help her remember, a chronicle of her life so far; from working in Bletchley Park to beating breast cancer and battling with the 'treacle' in her mind. It's a beautiful, emotional and, at times funny piece, which is duly received with a storming applause.

There are plenty of poetry and comedy gigs to choose from in the capital but almost none that consistently combine the two. After a successful launch show featuring Phill Jupitus and Laura Dockrill at this year's Edinburgh Festival, the club kicked off properly in London this September. Set up by award-winning contemporary poet Luke Wright with funding from Purple Ronnie, he has so far recruited some really exciting spoken word names from the likes of Scroobius Pip to Polarbear. Tonight however, is a particular highlight – two performance poetry greats who've been in the business for nearly 30 years – John Hegley and Attila The Stockbroker, making a very rare appearance on the same bill.

Our young host Luke Wright seems rather nervous to begin with and it's no wonder; these are his heroes and he has managed to get them to perform together for only the second time in 25 years. He pulls it together and delivers some witty, irreverent verse on modern society from 'Camping Dad': "Happy to get his hands dirty/Looks about sixty feels about thirty" to a tribute to the famous M25 service station: "It's Mimms O'clock!"

After a moving performance by Attila, we have a quick break to refill our drinks before the Hegley circus. And that's exactly how it feels: Hegley, armed with his ukulele is joined on stage by a violinist, a moody bass player and Andrew Bailey - a bonkers Uncle Fester-on-acid character. Whether it's wearing a black rubber glove on his bald head or frantically imitating the noise of a guillemot with coat hangers, he adds a hilarious and surreal tone to proceedings which compliments Hegley's dry demeanour: "Why don't you grate those beads one more time Andrew?" I've seen Hegley several times before but accompanied with his band and later with the die-hard punk rocker himself - Attila on mandola, each poem is significantly enhanced. With backing from the bass guitar, he becomes every bit the nonchalant seabird in his renowned rap poem: "I'm a guillemot/I don't eat krill a lot."

The gig ends in typical Hegley fashion, with all the audience singing and dancing and the performers giving it their all. I emerge from the Water Rats feeling like I've witnessed something rather special and indeed I have. The debut of Attila's tribute to his mother's memory and a jamming session with two of the most respected figures on the British poetry scene. It's not a gig I'll quickly forget.

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Emma