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January 2026

There was an awful lot of comedy this trip - maybe even a record - so this is quite long. And no, I can't MAKE you read it. I'm not your real dad.

I had the first night to myself and had planned to visit a free bar show called Just Edgy Enough in a place called the Whiskey Cellar. I tried to research what to expect from the venue and this was when alarm bells started to ring. It appeared to be a location that you could bring a party to. I was reluctant to embark on a three subway journey in order to pay a lot for a can of possibly rubbish beer and watch unproven comedians. Those days are gone.

The next night (Wednesday) was a slightly safer bet. I fancied giving Bushwick's Tiny Cupboard Comedy Club another try. It's a fair slog to get out there from where we stay and the comedians were unknown to me but at least it was a professional comedy environment. I felt a bit more optimistic, sufficiently so that I even purchased their "90 day passport", allowing me complimentary access to any performance that wasn't sold out. The show started 15 mins late and there were four listed acts plus a surprise fifth. The standard was far from great and certain elements of the audience seemed to believe that they were part of the conversation. By the end I was a bit dispirited, not least by the fact that the beer list had become eye-wateringly expensive. It can't have been like that on my previous visit - I would definitely have remembered.

Thursday night was to be an edition of Comedy Mob at New York Comedy Club's original location. Before it changed (coincidentally to another New York Comedy Club outpost) we used to go to Stand Up NY and watch Monday Night Mob. This particular Comedy Mob show had a lot going for it. No cover fee, 1 drink minimum (at a discount to the club's usual prices) and a nice, early 6pm start. We were greeted by organiser Kevin Hurley who vaguely remembered us. I quoted an incident from their old SUNY run and then teased him about his long term but now abandoned fondness for a man bun. Realising that we were Scottish he called over one of the comics (John) who turned out to be from about a mile away from where I grew up. Curiously he seemed nervous that there were Scottish people in the audience and said he'd have to change his act.

We got drinks - $6 for a modestly-sized bottle of Dogfish IPA instead of the usual (insane) $13 and tried to pick seats. Comic Tayler Yarish was seating people in, I'm going to say it, a somewhat officious manner. We held back and eventually Kevin intervened, allowing us to sit where we wanted. The standard varied but the host was decent, one big, beardy guy was excellent and Kevin closed pretty successfully.

Friday isn't normally a day to prioritise comedy but monthly show Kweendom was offering a bill including David Mills. I'd seen his name on a few NYC lineups over the last three or four years but I wasn't clear if he'd relocated from London or was just popping over. We arrived at the venue, Pete's Candy Store, in good enough time to secure a pile of drinks at the arse end of their happy hour, hopefully seeing us through a decent percentage of the show. Regular host Bobby Hankinson kicked things off but aside from Jonnea Herman there wasn't a lot to enjoy. We hadn't seen DM and were worried that if he didn't appear, the show would not have been the best use of our time. Fortunately, he closed with his usual mix of cattiness and filth. Based on his tales he's now based in NYC.

On Sunday we were scheduled to see Miles Jupp at the Soho Playhouse. I first saw Miles in Aberdeen in the 90s when he was still a theology student at Edinburgh University. It was one of many gigs my friends and I would attend that were hosted/booked by a guy called Brandon Reed. Remember that name. The Soho Playhouse show was in a modest space downstairs, attached to the bar. We found seats and I headed back to get drinks. A guy beside the bar looked vaguely familiar. I thought he MIGHT be Richard Bucknall, who has his own management company. He used to organise a Comics vs Industry golf match during the Fringe but I hadn't seen him for a while. Returning to my girlfriend I did some googling and confirmed that Richard represented Miles. I went back to the bar and introduced myself. He was very pleasant, though it was hard to tell if he actually remembered me. He suggested we wait around after for a drink.

Miles was excellent. It was his On I Bang show that he's been touring the UK, about a seizure he suffered as a result of a brain tumour. At the end we waited around as the crowd dispersed. Eventually Miles appeared, Richard bought us a beer and we chatted. When I mentioned the Brandon Reed gigs from the 90s, Miles asked if I knew what became of him. He is, and this is utterly astonishing, now sanctioned by the UK government for producing pro-Russian propaganda. He has his own Wikipedia entry (under his actual name of Graham Phillips) and it's really worth a read. Miles and Richard had been out to comedy every night of the run. I wasn't clear if it was always as a punter or Miles had done some sets. As we left the venue and prepared to bid them goodnight, I remarked that it was snowing. "Ah, but is it lying?" queried Miles with a glint in his eye. Always nice to meet a fellow David Kay fan.

Monday night frequently involves a visit to The Stand for their free Frantic show and this wasn't to be any different. I chatted to manager Joe Harary on the way in, remarking that the Legion of Skanks guys had Sam Morril and Mark Normand on their podcast in the main room. Joe replied "yeah but I'm up here" i.e. on the ground floor, as if that responsibility precluded him from nipping downstairs and catching any of the show. I manage to cram in 7 acts before my drink was done. The exotically-named Josh Ocean Thomas was the best of the bunch. I'll look out for him.

I've never been to Top Secret Comedy in London but I've heard good things and bad about it. Late last year they opened an outpost in NYC, in the old UCB location in the East Village. Tuesday night had a new material show called Neal Brennan and Friends. The initial lineup of friends was Dan Soder and Gary Vider, so we happily bought tickets. Then Gary disappeared and was replaced by Rachel Feinstein, which is not a fair swap. Andrew Santino was added, who I didn't know much about, but a quick Google revealed that he'd played at the Riyadh Comedy Festival, which tells us at least something. Even if we only saw Dan Soder, the tickets were cheap, the beer was cheap and there was no drink minimum. How badly could it go?

On arrival we queued up for drinks in the odd bar space. I say odd because it was quite a wide serving area with three sets of draft taps but only one barman. We were ushered into three separate lines, each in front of a set of taps. The barman then moved between each set/queue. Maybe there was a fractional serving efficiency in this arrangement, rather than just a single queue? The show was sold out, so they knew how many people to expect. Might it not have made more sense to hire another bartender? Conspicuously they HAD hired security. It was a shame his skills didn't extend to pulling the odd pint. Just before we were able to order the one palatable draft they had available, the keg kicked and we fell back on two modesly-priced but freezing cold glasses of red wine each.

I had remembered the room, perhaps incorrectly, as having comfortable seats on a continual, gentle slope - akin to what you might get in a cinema. Yeah, that's changed. The front two thirds of the room was on a single level, then there was a step up of maybe a couple of feet and then the back third. The front section was jammed full of cheap plastic chairs, barely in lines and way WAY too close together. It reminded me of the sort of shit Free Fringe venue you sometimes still get on places like the Cowgate. The seating is just chucked out dismissively as if the organisers are telling the public "YOU sort it out". We found a bit of space towards the back. Amusingly a woman, incensed by the idiocy of the seating, took a chair and simply threw it behind her, on top of the nest of densely packed rows. There it sat for, I think, the whole show.

As people filed in around us the congestion became worse. They had started to put a few rows of seats out in the back raised section, a section that offered a better view of the low stage but was bafflingly not being used. You KNEW it was sold out but you decided to cram everyone into the front, lower section of the room, yeah? I asked the guy seating people if we could move. He said "no". I swithered about leaving there and then, but we'd already seen Dan Soder arrive. If he was on early we could just leg it after that. When seating boy left his post we unilaterally moved ourselves into the quieter, back section.

I had expected Neal to host but it turned out to be Matt Ruby. He did reasonably and brought up Andrew Santino first. He's like an Aldi Bill Burr but I got on fine with him. Luckily Dan was next and was tremendous. He told a story about his family and then ruefully admitted that he'd need to change it because it wouldn't pass compliance for a broadcast special. He briefly brainstormed ideas on how it could be fixed. We saw Neal Brennan sidle into position to come on next. We necked the last of the wine and squeezed past Neal whispering to Dan on our way to the deserted bar area and the sweet release of the pavement outside. Cackling with relief, we vowed that that would be our one and only visit to Top Secret NYC. As my mum used to say, "it's a piece of nonsense".

The last time we were in the Olive Tree, the restaurant attached to the Comedy Cellar and the location of the famous "comics' table", we managed to get seats at the bar, beside said table, and enjoyably eavesdropped over the course of an hour. That was the plan this time too, but on arriving we realised that all the bar seats were taken - there's only half a dozen or so. We initially accepted the offer of a table but other than possibly a few snippets of a nearby Colin Quinn expounding on something, we weren't likely to pick up much. We made a discreet exit. Incidentally their new room, the one in the old McDonalds, is still under development. The sign on the hoarding around it described its completion as "Spring 2026".

Not more standup Steve? Yes, more, I'm afraid. Thursday I set off for Landline Comedy in the back area of Wild East Brewing in Gowanus, Brooklyn. I'd been once before to this fortnightly show and had a nice chat afterwards with host (and producer?) Andre Medrano. After sourcing my beer I saw him hovering around prior to the start so I went up to say "hi". He recognised me but had to be reminded of my name. The show went well with Brett Hiker and Liz Miele doing best.

As with the previous week, we wouldn't normally plan comedy on a Friday. Given that an icy blast was hitting NYC from that evening, the temptation to spend much time faffing about outside was not high. But I'd seen an email saying that Judah Friedlander was appearing on one of the Funny People At bills at Bedford Falls, a decent pub over on the Upper East Side. The tickets were $23 each which was just about do-able if Judah was actually on. I say that because in the past, when the guy behind Funny People At was at Old Man Hustle, the bills were, to put it candidly, "subject to change". I've chatted to Judah a few times and we follow each other on X so I sent off a DM to double check he was expecting to be there. In the meantime we got an offer of free tickets for the gig. This changed things. We can't not go if the tickets are free. I reserved two but there was still  an issue. Everywhere on the tickets it stated that the show started at 8pm but the invite email said 9pm. We couldn't risk turning up for 9pm and finding out that we'd missed most of the show, so we resolved to aim for 8pm.

I should have said that there were a few other names on the bill, though nothing of note. Except.... there was to be Alonzo "Hamburger" Jones. He is, apparently, a catchphrase comedian. I'm not sure I know what that is. Yes, some comedians have catchphrases but apparently his catchphrase ("Hamburger") was a big part of his act and would occur frequently. I can tell you're impressed. He'd been going since the 90s and was about to release his first special. Not a prodigious work rate but who am I to judge? BTW I typed that in Miles Jupp's voice. And he wears a hat. So we had a lot to look forward to.

We arrived about 7:50pm and made our way to the quite appealing performance space. A disinterested chap was listlessly moving things around. This didn't look good. I asked him if the show started at 8pm and he said that it was 9pm start and we should wait in the bar. I mentioned how the tickets said 8pm and he told me that I was wrong. I got my phone out and showed him the listed 8pm start time and after a long pause he responded that he would "feed that up". Rather than hang about for an hour to possibly only learn the comedic limitations of repeated use of the word "Hamburger", we made a prompt exit and perfectly timed catching a bus home. Brilliantly, the next day Judah DMed to say that he'd never been booked on that show and if he was listed, it was a mistake.

Are we not done yet? Hell no! There are three more shows to go.

Girlfriend had secured a ticket in the ballot to a terrible play so I had scope to see something late Saturday afternoon. The Tribeca Comedy Club, not an organisation I was familiar with, was offering free tickets to a 6pm show on the Upper East Side at a place called Room 52. The only requirement was that you had to buy one drink from the bar. You could legitimately query why a comedy club named after a wealthy area on the very bottom, left hand corner of Manhattan should be running shows on almost the top right hand corner. I arrived at the very unassuming entrance and realised that the performance space was two floors up. I climbed the stairs and entered the bar area. The drinks weren't cheap but I didn't plan to have more than one. Eventually we were shown into the show room. It reminded me a little of the ballroom in the Voodoo Rooms in Edinburgh. The host did his best with what was initially quite a small crowd. First act on stage was Harrison Greenbaum. He's proper! I was delighted to see a very accomplished comic at a show I did not have a lot of hope for. I stayed for about half a dozen acts. One had done a Fringe run in 2023. As another act was brought to the stage I escaped and headed home, pretty pleased with my random punt.

The storm hit on Sunday, dumping about 8 inches of snow on the city, making travelling to comedy treacherous (and that's assuming the performance went ahead).

I was unsupervised on Monday and had thought about going crazy. There was a 6pm open mic at the Gutter in Williamsburg, an 8pm open mic at a recently-opened, comedian-owned place called BK Made in Bushwick and that would allow a short hop to the Tiny Cupboard's 9:45pm show. The Gutter show would have involved two walks across McCarren Park and given how much snow lined each pavement and blocked junctions, this seemed more trouble than it was worth. I opted for a more modest evening - the 6pm mic at BK Made followed by the 8pm Tiny Cupboard show.

I arrived at BK Made to find the mic had already started. The guy at the door tried to get me to add my name to the list but I whispered that I was just there to watch. It's a tiny, thin rectangular space with the seats (and indeed the stage) just yards from the door. They've been open since October 2025 and have only being doing one paid show per night on Fridays and Saturdays - the rest of the time they concentrate on open-mics (they're also now putting on "Best of the Mic" shows for $5 a few times a week). This 90 minute mic was split across two hosts and it was a pleasant enough, friendly environment. As it was coming to a close I made a move to sneak out and door guy stopped me, thanked me profusely for coming and gave me a couple of discount codes for their weekend shows.

I (foolishly) decided that my best route to the Tiny Cupboard was to wait for a nearby bus. The walk to the club would have been manageable in normal weather, but it was about -13C and the windchill was taking it to -20C. Plus some of the pavements were still inches deep in snow. However standing still on a street corner, scanning the road for an oncoming bus was proving uncomfortably challenging. The bus time came and went and after a few more minutes I needed to take some action. I started following the bus route to the Tiny Cupboard, figuring I could try to catch it if I could see it approaching. I couldn't feel my hands or feet as I stumbled along snow-covered pavements, shivering. The streets were eerily-quiet and stubbornly bus-free. It occurred to me that if I slipped and fell and broke something I would probably die. And you know what? I would have deserved it.

Twenty minutes later I turned the corner and was greeted with the sight of the Tiny Cupboard. My 90 day passport was accepted without checking and I took my seat alongside the three other audience members (we would peak at six). Again, we started 15 minutes late and had four acts, two of which, Bryan Vogt-Nilson and Dan Pulzello were very good. As I started the not inconsiderable trek back to Manhattan's Upper West Side, I felt that all that faffing about in the freezing cold was worth it given the standard on show. And my passport is still valid for my next trip!

Trip Stats

Shows entered - 11

Shows I stayed till the absolute end - 6

New venues - 4

Expenditure - $90ish (there were some donations)