Kevin Bridges Here If You Need Me review by Richard Purden
You can’t ignore the buzz at a Kevin Bridges show in Edinburgh; it’s not unlike the feeling you get before an Oasis gig, when a working-class audience gathers for a good night. That intensity comes with a different kind of show, but Bridges delivers punchlines instead of songs that linger in the memory; many are now displayed on merchandise in the foyer, including “Did Ye, Aye”, “Enjoy Yer Night Mate” and the Lucky Panda takeaway. This run of sold-out nights is part of a worldwide tour that will keep Bridges going until the end of March 2027, when he wraps in Kuala Lumpur. Tonight Bridges begins a run in Edinburgh, returning to a city where he enjoyed early success with long Fringe runs.
His support act, Christopher Macarthur-Boyd, has a similar style. He makes light of himself, calling himself a “specky wee guy” as he sits on a stool, pushing his specs back into place. There is something of Ronnie Corbett about it, sitting on his chair and launching into a shaggy dog story involving his two Australian girlfriends. He delivers a slick, credible and, most importantly, funny performance, with the audience quickly getting onside. He’s a name to look out for.
For the main event, Kevin comes out, his name up in lights, immediately striking up a rapport with a guy in the front row. Bridges has a connection with his fans, which is a breath of fresh air in an era when audience members can become the target. That’s not Bridges’ style. The Playhouse feels like the perfect venue; it’s intimate enough to benefit from audience participation. The subtext is that we’re in this together. When he asks the guy in the front row what deodorant he wears, “Lynx” is the reply. “A traditionalist,” replies Kevin. He then moves on to deodorants that now promise 96 hours of protection. “What kind of repulsive creature is actually putting that to the test?” It’s the sort of thing you might have noticed or thought about, but nobody can make it as funny as Bridges.
His send-up of Middle England and middle-class Scotland remains spot-on, but there is a more interesting thread running underneath it. Bridges acknowledges that his success is still rooted in working-class culture, while his private life has inevitably taken him some distance from that world, which he plays for laughs. One of the most interesting sections comes when he talks about his wife suggesting her friend’s partner as a new pal who is into football, Oasis and The Sopranos. Bridges has to be selective when it comes to new friends. His benchmark for what makes a friend, formed in his early life, is both hilarious and poignant.
There is also a serious point behind the insistence that phones are put away and the show isn’t recorded. It’s caused him trouble in the past. Bridges talks about his mum wanting a particular book. He orders it for her, only to realise that wasn’t really what she wanted. She wanted to get on the bus, go for a cup of tea and perhaps talk to somebody. There is no punchline here, just a recognition of how easily convenience replaces our human experiences, especially in Scotland where community is central to our identity.
His section on Jeff Bezos makes a political point that is both pertinent and, in typical Bridges fashion, has people doubled over. It’s a difficult balance to strike, but he does it throughout. For all the success, the sold-out shows and the name up in lights, Bridges remains at his best when he is noticing the things many of us notice about modern life. That connection with the audience is still there, just as it was when this writer first reviewed him in 2010. The observations have changed, the life around him has changed, but the razor-sharp eye and comic timing remain as potent as ever.
Richard Purden *****
