Est. 2014
Started in pubs. Ended up in ballrooms. Same job, posher carpet.
I grew up in Manchester watching my uncle MC the cricket club do every Christmas. He had two jokes and they both worked every year. That's where I learned the trick: read the room, then give it what it didn't know it wanted.
Picked up a microphone at 19 doing pub quizzes for £40 cash and a chicken basket. Picked up a set of decks at 22. By 26 I was doing weddings on Saturdays and stand-up on Wednesdays — and one Wednesday at the Frog & Bucket, a guy from a local awards body asked if I'd compere his ceremony. "You can do jokes AND tell people where to sit?"
Twelve years later, I run rooms across the North West - wedding suites, conference centres, pub backrooms, marquees, theatres, that bit at the back of a Wetherspoons. Different rooms, same job: get everyone home with a story to tell.
Six honest reasons to book me.
Most entertainers send a glossy PDF. I'd rather just tell you what's in the box.
Reads the room
Knows when to crack one. Knows when to play one.
Twelve years of weddings, awards nights and pub Sundays teaches you one thing: the difference between a great gig and a flat one is timing — and timing is what I do.
Two acts, one fee
Comedy AND DJ — covered.
Most clients book me for the comedy and discover they've got an evening's DJ thrown in. Saves a chunk versus booking two acts; saves a headache versus managing two acts.
Bring your own gear?
Don't worry — I'm a self-contained noise machine.
Full PA, full lighting rig, mics, decks, fog if you want it (or if you don't, very specifically). PAT-tested, PLI insured, set up in an hour, cleared in twenty minutes.
Built for chaos
First-dance song lost? Lead singer late? Power cut?
Yes. All of those. I've handled all of those. The audience never knows. That's the job.
Calls back
Replies within 24 hours, always.
Even if it's a no. Even if it's a maybe. Booking entertainment is stressful enough without chasing radio silence.
Speaks fluent Auntie
Your nan will love me.
Three generations on the dance floor, all happy. That's the brief and that's the bar — and twelve years in, I've yet to lose a single Brenda.
Twelve years deep, and counting.
Things people have said to me afterwards.
Jamie ran our wedding from the speeches right through to the last dance. Had Auntie Maureen on the floor by 9pm — that's all you need to know.
Stand-up at a wake sounds like a terrible idea. Jamie made it the loveliest forty minutes of the day. Mum would have loved him — and now half my family have booked him.
Booked him for the Sportsman's Dinner thinking we'd get a few chuckles — got a standing ovation. Already booked him for next year.
We've had DJs. We've had comedians. We've never had both in the same person — it's like getting two acts for the price of one and a half.
Worked the room all night, kept the awards bit moving, and somehow had our finance director up dancing. That alone deserves the fee.
Cleanest 30 minutes I've had at a charity night in years. Hilarious, sharp, and didn't go anywhere we'd have to apologise for. Class act.
Right then. Where's the gig?
Wedding, awards, charity do, surprise 50th in a marquee — they all start the same way.