Hey, what about this for a scam? Take an innocent young comedian who wants to put on a show at the fringe. Then convince him (or her) that only by hiring your services as a publicist will he get any press coverage; take care not to guarantee anything. Then charge the poor sucker two grand to retain your services for the month. Repeat 28 times.

Next get yourself a posh flat in our capital and hang out with your mates for a month. You’ll get to speak to a few folks in the “meedyah” and mention the shows (you’ll find them hanging out at a particular bar on George Street). Make sure that after a couple of weeks of the fringe one of your favourite media monkeys says loudly, and within earshot of your clients: “There’s just so much on, luv, it’s impossible to cover everything.”

It’s all just a big con. The truth is that with more than 1,800 individual shows on the fringe, only a fraction of them will ever get reviewed. The Scotsman, which once undertook to review every show in town, now only covers between a quarter and a third of the programme. Other dailies will review far less, and the chances of an individual performer getting his show reviewed is something like 10 to one against.

This reality spurs the willing publicist to argue that since only they can give a show the edge in the media, they ought to be paid loadsamoney. It’s a nonsense, of course. In my experience, most journalists react adversely to being badgered about reviews by plummy-voiced interlopers from the home counties.

So if you’re not getting in the review sections of the papers, what about editorial? Truth is you’re kebabed here too. The top 20 shows will probably get about two thirds of the editorial coverage, leaving the vast bulk of the programme scrabbling around for what’s left.

You have to be lucky — or have a really remarkable angle — to win this particular game of roulette. But c’est la vie.

I wouldn’t want to stereotype, of course. There are undoubtedly some hard-working, conscientious souls who care very much about the shows they promote. But most are a bunch of self-serving superannuated hacks, one of the more unfortunate and unworthy aspects of the world’s largest light entertainment trade fair.

And would you believe it? As ever, it’s the paying public that is keeping them in business.

Tommy Sheppard is director of the Stand Comedy Club

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