Sean’s crazily funny gags reminded me why I got into comedy – his dry humour was always balanced with his wide-eyed wonder at the world
Sean was maybe a year ahead of me on the London comedy club scene and already had a reputation among comics as one to watch. He was really original and exciting and I wanted to be his friend. Physically tough, comfortable in himself and cool like Steve McQueen was cool, he was great company – very bright and naturally witty. He didn’t have to try too hard; he wasn’t one of those comics who was full of nervous energy and felt the need to be permanently “on”. We ended up sharing a flat together in Edinburgh for the festival. On his poster that year he billed himself as “The Natty Rebel Returns”. I liked that: “The Natty Rebel.”
I had an old 70s suit that I’d picked up in a charity shop – navy blue, pin striped, massive lapels and flared trousers but it fitted me like the loose cover on a secondhand sofa. Sean saw it and tried it on and it looked like I’d hoped it would look on me: dead smart but also just kind of odd, like he’d just got out of prison having been banged up in 1974. Although it broke my heart, I gave it to him to wear on stage and it became his look for a while.