Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Her promotional shots are giving rock chic, but in actuality, Teresa Livingstone’s vibe is more in tune with who she really is: an ex-music teacher turning middle-aged yet insisting she’s still fun. As she describes herself, she’s like the ‘auntie who got you Taylor Swift tickets then comes along too’.

Her fan base is of a similar demographic and laps up her song about turning 40 and its lines about how ‘my arse is getting bigger’.  Body shape and failing faculties turn out to be recurring themes, from giving up on diets – in a track making reference to all of them as she sings about the joys of cake and wine – to how ill-suited she is to the gym.

She has plenty of embarrassing stories, such as the time she threw up on the notoriously choppy SeaCat service that used to run between Scotland and her native Belfast, or ill-fated attempts to impress boys on a teenage holiday almost a quarter of a century ago.

It’s all part of the winning air of familiarity Livingstone engenders with her audience, even if the stand-up sections can be a little one-dimensional, such as her routine about all the things ‘Megan’ got up to, without mentioning that Megan was a dog.  Meanwhile, her teaching job – in Livingstone, amusingly enough, which gives her a good line about her first day on the job – also provides fodder in the form of encounters with some feral pupils.

The catchy Nice Ladies has more of a satirical edge, mocking judgmental, reactionary middle-class churchgoers, while her depiction of persistent but unsuccessful lads out on the pull in a separate number is equally accurate.
 
It’s not a given, despite her old job, but Livingstone’s piano playing is tight and she’s got a strong voice. After all, she’s been doing this a long time, as she explains in a witty cornerstone routine about local TV news reporting on her young self recording a Christmas song for peace, and making her film a cheesy pop video in the Shankhill Road. 

Does she have the evidence to back this up? She sure does, and the footage provides a fitting conclusion to an hour of relatable, confessional musical comedy.

Review date: 24 Aug 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Just the Tonic at The Mash House