Aaron kills it at Daly’s Comedy Club

Homecomings are notoriously fraught affairs, loaded with importance, poignancy and, sometimes, revelation. For a performer, a homecoming can feel like a night of reckoning; the moment of truth.

So, when it was announced that Aaron McCann was going to be the first Omagh comedian to headline Daly’s Comedy Club, one of the butterflies that would soon swirl around his stomach, briefly beat its wings in mine.

I was apprehensive on his behalf.

‘This is a big one,’ I thought to myself.

When any performer returns to their roots – be they fighter, musician or comedian – after having achieved a degree of recognition on away turf, they must be nervous, no matter how talented they are.

But, I thought, if familiarity fosters comfort, McCann should feel like he is lounging in his living room when he gigs in Daly’s.

He’s performed there plenty over the years. In fact, Daly’s is where – after a bit of persuasion from a few other local comedians – McCann first stepped on stage to chance his arm at stand-up. That was over a decade ago.

Since then, McCann has justly earned a name as one of the funniest comedians on the go.

He spent a fair few of his recent years in LA, a city that has a reputation for stealing the soul of bright-eyed newcomers.

Fortunately, McCann flourished rather than floundered during his self-imposed, stateside exile, receiving high praise from some of the who’s who of American stand-up, including Tom Segura, Tony Hinchcliffe and even Joe Rogan, who labelled the Omagh man ‘hilarious’.

And, despite being away for a while, McCann even managed to remain a staple of the local scene. Though physically absent from the North’s circuit, McCann’s social media presence ensured that he was never forgotten.

In the showbiz speak of LA, McCann remained ‘relevant’ throughout.

And now he was back in town and headlining Daly’s. Things had come full circle. But could he perform under pressure? Being on the bill is one thing… Topping it is a whole other story.

We got in early to secure seats to find out; nabbing a few that we judged to be beyond the range of the verbal missiles that would inevitably be launched from the stage.

Pints were procured. The lights were lowered and we became part of the crowd. Hidden, anonymous… and safe.

First up was Sara Jade Davidson. She was funny, interesting and teetering on the edge of good matured mania. She owned the stage, and went down a treat.

Next up was a newcomer with stage craft that seemed to belong to a comedian with hundreds more hours experience than he actually had.

His name was Pete Giffen.

Pete is a likable fella from Lurgan, with a way of making fun of himself that never seemed like gratuitous self-flagellation, as that sort of comedy so often can.

He had a laugh at his own expense without ever being mocking in a genuinely self-loathing or cheap way.

I was in stitches, and the rest of the room was buckled a right few times, too.

Then, due to the unexpected absence of Tom Mahony, Ross Mitchell showed up and hit us with a few quick comedic combos before splitting from the stage within five very enjoyable minutes of having first stepped foot on it.

Interval. Toilet. Few pints. Muck-chatting. Reseated. McCann time.

“Please welcome to the stage, Mr Aaron McCann!” announced The Big Cheese, Conor Keys.

McCann produced himself, and the roof nearly lifted. He started straight into his set.

However, despite the rafter-rattling roar, I kind of liked the idea that as well as family, friends and well-wishers being present in the audience, there were bound to be a few begrudgers and cynics lurking in the darkness, too.

Some sweaty hands clasped rosary beads in the blackness, while others might have stuck pins in homemade effigies. Maybe…

But what did it matter? Because not God nor The Other Fella could exact anything upon McCann that night.

He was sharp, concise, full of energy, reactive.

All his jokes were extremely well-written.

Some were punchy and quick, while others were more disguised and unexpected, perfected over who-knows-how-many hours on stages, both sides of the Atlantic.

Once it became apparent to everyone how funny and comfortable McCann was, he took us to places that we did not expect to go.

Touching on family tragedy, McCann was able to get sincere with the audience without sounding glib or making things awkward.

This, I thought, was a mark of his ability.

While most his material was straightforwardly funny, there were some parts, particularly toward the end of the set, where McCann was fit to connect with the audience in a way that is usually only possible among small groups of friends.

It was honest, familiar, and, as the Bostonian caveman put it… ‘hilarious’.

If anybody reading this has even the most fleeting desire to give stand-up a go, do it, and do it at the ‘Green Room Open Mic Night’ at Daly’s on Tuesday, October 18, where local rising star, Claire Corrigan, will be hosting the night from 6.30pm to 10pm.