ODD JOB: Interview with comedian Joey Page
Comedy columnist Zahra Barri continues her series of interviews with ‘cene, this time meeting ‘a bit weird’ stand-up and podcast agony uncle Joey Page
“Since I (@zahra.barri.comedy) started writing this comedy column, I’ve had the honour of interviewing some of the best names in stand-up. We’re talking about the likes of Fiona Ridgewell, Carly Smallman, Sarah Iles, Rosie Wilby et al. However, it’s come to my attention through various vehement vocalisations via DMs on X (née Twitter) that I have never featured a male stand-up. “Is this because you don’t think male stand-up comedians are funny?”, a male ‘Karen’ tweeted at me into the void. Another accused me of being a “sexist feminist” (splendid oxymoron). So I’d like to take the fact that this is the start of a whole new year, and with it a whole new me, and finally redress the gender diversity balance of this comedy column.
“So! I found one! A male comedian! He’s called Joey Page (@joeypagecomedy ) and I’d describe him as Wonka-esque. If Timothée Chalamet and Johnny Depp somehow merged into one entity and then moved to Bexleyheath and got the same stylist as Noel Fielding… For Page’s comedy is that glorious mix of madness and mainstream. Furthermore, a stint on Never Mind the Buzzcocks combined with his agony uncle-ing podcast, which he categorically says he’s not legally qualified to do, means he delves into both music and mayhem. Plus, he’s got a moustache. Ladies and gents, welcome to the maniacal, meandering, musical, mega, magical, mystery, moustachioed comedy world of (cue fairground music)... Mr Joey Page.”
Your appearance on Never Mind the Buzzcocks (very cool) and your Fubar radio show seem to epitomise your straddling of comedy with music. What else do you like straddling?
Class, I think. Like, I’m from a very working-class background, but I have moved out of a rubbish bit of Kent. Now I live in east London, where a pint is about eight quid. I also think I straddle the space between being a normal bloke and being a bit odd.
You do a podcast with fellow comic Bilal Zafar called Got a Problem Mate? - what expertise do you have in the realms of agony uncle-ing?
Absolutely none. Basically, it’s just an excuse for me and my mate to do a podcast and there’s so many podcasts - none as good as ours, but I am going to say that! All right, some are good, but we’ve got to back ourselves. We’ve got no experience, which I think is why it’s fun. We don’t know what we’re talking about. We don’t know how to help people. We can’t even help ourselves.
What has been your biggest problem on the podcast and how did you solve it?
We had a problem sent in where a guy had a cigarette stolen off him, outside the restaurant he was working in, by a seagull. Then, at another point, it stole a 10-pound note. So we did have an episode where we were trying to help him.
You’re the first male stand-up comedian I’ve interviewed for ‘cene (congrats). What’s the hardest thing about being a male stand-up comedian and what do you say to people who think male stand-up comedians aren’t funny?
Wow, what an honour. Thanks. Probably that there’s so many of us – it’s so important to have a unique point of view or something about you, because otherwise what’s the point? There’s already loads of really good ones. So, I guess finding your own niche in a very crowded market. Luckily, my brain works a bit weird.
Describe your comedy in three words
Observational, odd and clever.
Who are you the comedy love child of?
Um, now, I don’t know if this is true, but in my mind I would like to say, and no one has ever said this about me by the way, but I’m hoping I can just put it out there. Hopefully, I’d like to be the love child of Stewart Lee and Mickey Flanagan. I don’t know if I’m quite getting that right, but I am trying.
Why did you get into comedy?
Honestly, I was bored at uni. I went to Greenwich uni and there wasn’t much of a nightlife. My old drama teacher Leisa Rea encouraged me to do it and off I went.
Who are your inspirations?
My parents Mick and Barb - they’ve really supported me. My dad is the very life and soul of the party and I picked up my need to show off from Big Mick (he’s only about 5ft 2). Also Vic Reeves - I always wanted to be Vic Reeves as a child. Oh, also Busta Rhymes, because it was the first time really that I’d seen a guy on TV being really unusual, and outlandish and bombastic. So yeah, he’s definitely one as well. Which might surprise people.
What’s been your best gig to date and why?
I did a run of shows in Australia in 2018 and selling out 200 tickets a night and being able to command that many people, not only their attention for a whole hour but also to have them in the palm of my hand. I really felt like I mastered my craft at that point.
What’s been your worst gig to date and why?
Definitely at Leeds Festival. When I first started out. I’d never done a music festival before. And I went on straight after Jack Whitehall and nothing dents your ego more than about 2,000 people walking out of a tent.
When did you realise that you were funny and could make people laugh?
I was in a school play when I was five. I said something not in the script and it got a laugh and I thought ‘Oh hello. I like this!’.
What are your comedy plans?
Hopefully next year I’m going to do a little tour of a new show that I’m writing. And keep doing my podcast and just really gig all over the country, like I do every weekend.
I’m also planning a documentary about trying to do stand-up comedy in America. So if there’s any rich people in Kent who want to back an idiot’s dream, then get in touch.
What’s funny about Kent?
Some places are really beautiful and some, including Welling and Bexleyheath where I grew up, are grim. It’s funny that you can have both in Kent. It’s known as the Garden of England. I would say it’s more like the front garden of England with a couple of old kitchen appliances and a sofa in, waiting to be picked up by the binmen.
Podcast: Got A Problem Mate?
