June 19, 2018

Daniel Sloss in the New York Time Out Magazine, 9th Feb 2016


Melbourne International Comedy Festival: Daniel Sloss lives, breathes and eats comedy

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No sacred cows: “I think it’s very pathetic to be upset by something someone says especially by comedy.” Photo: Gavin Evans

Daniel Sloss is very excited about stand-up comedy, so excited that he talks increasingly quickly over the course of an hour so that by the end of our time he’s only saying half-words; what with that and his Scots accent, when it comes time to listen to the interview again I have to replay a lot of it twice.
There is the torrent of names: comedians he admires, only some of whom are familiar to me although I do spot a couple of Australians, Tim Minchin and Jim Jefferies. As far as I can tell, Sloss watches comedy pretty much all the time he is not on stage himself.

“How else do you learn?” he asks rhetorically. “It would be so f—ing arrogant of me to be in this job and be like ‘oh I know how to just be the best comic!’ You have to watch, see other people think, how they do what they do. Every joke can be told a thousand different ways: there’s the set-up and the punchline but they don’t have to be in that order. I find it amazing when I talk to comics who aren’t obsessed with stand-up. Do you not love this job? I love every second.”
Daniel Sloss is 25. He’s a regular face on British television, made multiple appearances on Conan in the US and run the gauntlet as a performer at Edinburgh Fringe eight years in a row. He started doing gigs in comedy clubs when he was 16, but you could say his life in comedy goes back much further even than that.
Did it start, as he suggests, with the Phil Jupitus VHS tape he remembers watching with his parents when he was six? Or perhaps it was a few years later during the summer holidays, when his father would drop him in the morning in the middle of the Edinburgh Fringe on his way to work, then take him to a show as soon as he finished.
There was at least one victorious argument with a bouncer. “The guy’s like ‘oh sir, there is a lot of swearing during the show’ and my dad jut turned to me and went ‘f—, shit, bugger, c—, bastard – right he’s heard them all, can we come in now?'”

He giggles triumphantly. And there were the rides home, riffing with his dad. “We’d be not just repeating bits but coming up with bits of our own. Both my parents are hysterically funny people. My mum has a real job as a scientist, but if she ever wanted to do stand-up she’s a really good writer, and my dad’s very funny but he’s not confident as a public speaker. They managed to create a sort of hybrid in me.”

Sloss is a great believer in the comedian’s right to talk about anything as long as it’s funny; not for nothing is his show called Dark. “I think it’s very pathetic to be upset by something someone says especially by comedy. To be offended by that is to take this series of generalisations – which is what comedy is – and this one-sided conversation and to turn it on yourself. It’s just so arrogant.”

There are politicians who offend him, but comedy isn’t coming from the same place. “Because regardless of what you think of it, the intent is to make you laugh. I have a line about pregnant women going to classes to learn how to overreact. Now, obviously I have a mother who has given birth to four f—heads. Am I saying childbirth doesn’t hurt? No, the joke isn’t that. The joke is that I’m an idiot.”

Even so, he asked his parents’ permission to talk on stage about his sister, who was born with severe cerebral palsy. “I didn’t ever intend to do that as material. What happened was there was a show in LA called RISK! and I’d done a bunch of gigs for the guy there, he was like ‘we do a show where we ask a comedians on stage to tell a story they have never told before’.”
Sloss suggested a few embarrassing sex stories but, he was told, everyone does those. “And then I said, well, I’ve never spoken about my sister.”
It was actually his mother who remembered, in one of their several daily text exchanges, the most disquieting of his anecdotes. “She’s like ‘f—, here’s a good one’!”
And how was it? “It was thrilling.”

Perhaps he didn’t tell it so well from a technical point of view that first time, but he worked on some of those comic tricks he studies so intensively. And sure enough, as he kept telling his story, he managed to offend people.

“I really enjoyed it, just talking honestly about disability and going ‘f— you telling me I don’t get to laugh or I don’t get to use the word spastic because it offends you? I get to say what I want to say, because I know it’s not coming from a place of hate but from love. And I love that.”

Read more: http://www.theage.com.au/entertainment/comedy/melbourne-comedy-festival/melbourne-international-comedy-festival-daniel-sloss-lives-breathes-and-eats-comedy-20160404-gnuu6i.html#ixzz44qnR1jMJ
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New York Time Out Feb 9th 2016


Daniel Sloss Stops In Soho Ahead Of New York Debut

“My flatmate Jean first told me about the tax. I was eating some cereal, being a typical bloke, and she said, ‘You don’t know how bullshit this whole thing is.’ I said ‘nope’. And then she explained it.”
From this unpromising start, Daniel Sloss developed an excellent standup routine on the longstanding absurdity of tampons being classed as a luxury item at last year’s Edinburgh Fringe.
“For me it wasn’t about making a statement,” he says, “it was really about me not been able to understand why they weren’t free.” It’s an important point and one which perhaps explains the success of the routine. After all, it could have come across differently had Sloss decided on a current issue in a more deliberate, ‘educate the public’ way. “I didn’t think doing that routine would affect any decision, but I really did love watching the reaction — particularly of men in the audience — who had maybe thought ‘well this really doesn’t affect me’ and seeing the penny drop.” Read More

Scots comedian Daniel Sloss insists he won’t ditch his Edinburgh Fringe roots despite tasting US big time

JS32241814-3143437HE 23-year-old has just finished a stand-up stint on American talk show Conan – his second time in as many months – but the comic says he wants to earn laughs the hard way and will be returning to the capital fest in August. 

IT’S the morning after the night before and a hungover Daniel Sloss sounds like a frog who smokes 60 a day.

But the 23-year-old deserves to cut loose. He has just finished a stand-up stint on late-night American talk show Conan – his second time in as many months.

As well as that, he’s been doing auditions during Los Angeles’ pilot season, which could see him land an acting role and doing more stand-ups, testing the water to see if America finds him funny. They do.

Tickets for his sixth Edinburgh Fringe show have also been announced. It is likely that, for the third year in a row, he will sell out the 10,000 tickets.

When we speak, he’s in LA, just managing a hangover after celebrating his second stint on Conan O’Brien’s show. It’s something of a first. Conan has been a mainstay of American talk shows, firstly from 1993 with Late Night and then, since 2010, with his own show, Conan. Having a comic back after only two months is a first for Conan in his 21-year talk show career.

As you read this, Daniel will be thousands of miles away again – this time working in Australia.

He said: “I never thought I’d get this far in my career, ever. Everything from here on is a bonus.

“It’s not about cracking America and being this new thing. I didn’t want a famous overnight career.

“I want to emulate the careers of Billy Connolly, Louis CK and Bill Burr, who grafted for years and years.

“The reason they have the respect of other comics and comedy fans is because they worked so hard and not because they had one great gig and became a sensation overnight.

“I really want to make sure I do it right, make sure I do the Fringe every year and get better and better, rather than sitting back and coasting.”

The last six-and-a-half years have seen Daniel hardly draw breath.

At 16, he performed his first five-minute stand-up at The Laughing Horse in Edinburgh and began writing material for Frankie Boyle’s slot on Mock the Week.

The next year, aged just 17, he did his first joint Edinburgh Festival Fringe show and by 2009, he had sold out his first full Fringe show, going to London and becoming the youngest comedian to take a show to the Soho Theatre.

In 2010, he starred in his own BBC Three sitcom The Adventures of Daniel and, at 21, recorded his own live DVD.

Such is his fame now that he’s been asked to do diving show Splash! and Let’s Dance for Comic Relief – both of which he’s turned down.

While doing so well so young has allowed Daniel to move away from his parents’ home in Fife to his own house in Edinburgh and to make comedy a career, it also tarnished him with a teenage comic tag he has had difficulty in shrugging off.

America has no such baggage.

He said: “It’s untouched snow for me. I can reinvent myself.

“I got TV when I was very young – 18 or 19 – and talked about my life then. But it was at 21 that I found my voice and became darker and ruder.

“The problem was that people who had seen me doing my young and friendly stuff thought that was still me.

“It’s not. I think I’m beginning to shed the young comedian impression that’s followed me in the UK.

“But in America I don’t have that. They have no back reference for me. I walk on stage and you can see the looks in their faces – is this kid going to be funny?

“Well, with six-and-a-half years under my belt, I think I’ll be fine.”

Since signing with the prestigious CCA in Los Angeles in 2012, Daniel has been doing gigs in LA, Denver and Indiana.

He said: “I want to do more here and see what happens. I love stand-up and do it all over Europe and in Australia but hadn’t done it in America.

“It’s where a lot of my favourite comedians are from. I went over to see if I was funny and, thankfully, I am.”

He was first asked to appear on Conan last December when the show’s talent executive, JP Buck, saw Daniel do his Edinburgh Fringe show. Two months later, he was asked back.

Daniel said: “The first one was nerve-wracking. It was the first time I’d been on American television but I’ve done enough gigs on telly in the UK that I can handle it.

“My only complaint was that it was only four-and-a-half minutes’ long. I’d love to have done an hour.

“When they asked me back, they asked if I had another five minutes.

“In America, comics build up from five minutes to a strong 10-20, so they didn’t think I’d be at that stage yet.

“When they asked if I had another five minutes, I said I’ve got five hours.”

As well as stand-up, he’s also trying to get acting work in Hollywood. His management see auditions as a way of getting Daniel’s face in the minds of casting directors for future shows.

A stumbling block is Daniel’s awful American accent.

He laughed: “When they asked if I could do an American accent, I told them I wasn’t going to insult them by even trying. I then suggested they could make the role Scottish.

“But I have to work on it. I don’t want to be that person with an atrocious accent, offending everyone.”

The star will be back in Scotland from July for Daniel Sloss – Really…?! at the Edinburgh International Conference Centre. It’s likely to sell out and Daniel admitted he is one of the few comedians coming to Edinburgh who actually makes money.

He said: “I live in Edinburgh. All the other comedians are paying extortionate rents but my mortgage stays the same. And I’m Scottish and the Scottish audiences are immensely supportive of their own. I do sell out all my shows and I’m one of the few comics to make money at the Fringe.”

But don’t expect to see him driving around Edinburgh in a flash car. He still drives his mum’s yellow Ford Ka (he doesn’t want to buy his own).

He laughed: “I am accused of being thrifty by my friends. But I might not always be earning what I am now, so all my money goes into my house.”

Well, if he’s not living it up, surely he’s enjoying the comedy groupies?

Despite it being Valentine’s Day, Daniel is a man on only one mission – to have a long and strong career.

He said: “I don’t have a girlfriend. I travel lots. I don’t see the point in having a long distance relationship.”

As it’s been pointed out many times before, comedy is a serious business.

Written by Rick Fulton

First Published by the Daily Mail, Feb 14th 2014


Daniel Sloss – beyond the hair and jeans

Ahead of his November tour, Daniel Sloss reveals there’s much more to him than the ‘young hair and jeans comic’ stereotype might suggest

PUBLISHED 29 OCTOBER 2013102101_wide

Almost everything I read about Daniel Sloss refers to him as a ‘young comedian,’ as if the number of monotonous days clocked up on planet Earth have some bearing on the validity of what he’s doing. Surely, if someone is talented enough to be the epitome of industry success, then age is a secondary detail?

On an otherwise unremarkable Edinburgh Wednesday, I camp out in one of the city’s trendier coffee shops, waiting to meet him. A comic whose career has gleefully whizzed past all of the industry benchmarks in record time: panel shows, Michael McIntyre’s Comedy Roadshow, Russell Howard’s Good News, five sell-out Fringe festivals, a live DVD and even his own TV show. This is an impressive legacy for anyone; not just someone that’s only just turned twenty-three. But again, does that even matter?

I sit at a sturdy wooden table, drinking in the smell of roasting beans, and the sound of screaming steamers and thirty conversations. Daniel walks in, spies me awkwardly poking a notebook and comes to the rescue, with a hug and a much-needed coffee. He fires into a banana and a smoothie and we talk about life in “the world’s greatest job.”

For every frighteningly talented person lumbered with youth, there are those who delight in picking holes. People who can’t ignore the prickling desire to buff the shine off of achievement. Is it genuine dislike? More probably they see a reflection of themselves not having done ‘enough.’ The criticism doesn’t seem to faze him, though.

“It’s not the case – I just couldn’t give a fuck. I don’t let reviewers into my shows anymore. Why would I care what the one person who didn’t pay for a ticket and came to a show thinks? I would rather sell that extra ticket to someone who actually cares. When the people who pay for tickets don’t enjoy my show, that’s when I’ll listen. As long as the people in front of me are laughing, that’s what matters.”

It’s a self-assured opinion that catches me off-guard, even more-so because I spend a substantial amount of my time reviewing shows. Am I the devil incarnate? I want to know more.

“It’s easy to get very angry, but a lot of the time reviewers don’t realise the damage they’re doing. If you give me a one, two star review, I couldn’t give a fuck. But you’ve got other people who paid up to fifteen grand to come up, and if you just go and give them a three or a two, that could be the turning point when they decide not to be a comic, and I think that’s a horrible, horrible thing to do.”

It’s unexpected to see someone who so openly delights in comedic vitriol being so vocal about the industry as a whole. With six years on the circuit, he’s in a far better place to pass comment than a humble observer. I ask him how it was growing up with an audience and if the ‘young comic’ label is haunting him.

“I wouldn’t say it’s haunting me. I never begrudged it. It’s annoying when people say ‘he’s a young comic that’s funny.’ No, you’ve said that the wrong way – I’m a funny comic who just happens to be young. Funny should always be the first thing I am. I wasn’t a great stand-up when I was younger; I got very lucky in my career, because comedy is about box-ticking – absolutely – and I ticked a box. That’s why I got on television. It wasn’t because I was the best. I wasn’t even fucking close to being in the top 100 on the circuit, but I was young, and I was Scottish, and Kevin Bridges is young and Scottish… I ticked a box. I was confident, I was young – I was arguably attractive so I was going to get the young female audience, so they put me on telly, and that’s when I went ‘Aaah… I don’t want to be this…’ The fact that I started young has given me the success I’ve had, which has developed me into the wanky cunt that I am today, who just so happens to be able to write a good dick joke.”

We spend a good five minutes discussing the masturbatory predilections of comedians, and the validity of wank-jokes as pieces of genuine observational material. They’re souvenirs of a life spent hopping between hotel rooms on your own. I wonder if being a comedian has immunised him from having to grow up quickly?

“No, it’s made me grow up substantially, because I’ve got so much life experience now. I’ve travelled the world. I’ve met people I never expected to meet. I’ve done things I never thought I would do. It really makes it impossible to be racist, or homophobic, or sexist because it’s one of the most diverse jobs in the world. I’ve gotten more life experience now than most people under thirty-five, purely because they’ve gone from high-school to university, to a job, to a wife, to kids. I’ve sat on my ass and lived in my own head for six years . And I hate the term ‘self discovery,’ and that sort of hippy wank, but when you’re just in your own head constantly – and you smoke the amount of weed I do – then you discover things. Intelligence isn’t necessarily about what you know – book smarts – it’s your reasoning and your ability to work things out. ‘I’m gonna go find myself… oh, it turns out I’m lazy.’

“The cool thing is, I can feel myself getting better. Every time I write a new joke I think ‘Now that’s fucking good. I’m now making me laugh.’ which is nice. It sounds slightly arrogant – that’s because I really am – I can feel my comedy getting smarter. I used to be the floppy-haired cheeky shit, whereas now I’m making a point. It sounds so wanky, but it’s true; I like saying stuff that has a point. You’ll laugh harder at Jason Byrne’s show than you ever will at mine, but I’d like to think I make you think more.”

Introspection with a dash of ego; a recipe for far more charm than I care to admit. I ask if he feels he’s helped strengthen the idea of young people as credible acts.

“I hope so. I had a lovely compliment the other day – my PR came to see this year’s show and said it was the best he’d ever seen me. That meant a lot because ‘no – you know me.’ He’s seen all of my shit. The guy who runs The Last Laugh in Sheffield said he was genuinely impressed because he had me down as a ‘hair and jeans’ comic, because I was young. And I was almost at one point.”

As if provided by the universe itself, a girl materialises at our table and mumbles “Are you Daniel Sloss?” before five minutes of genuine fan-girl adoration ensue. She references specific shows and jokes, before praising his cleverness. I stifle giggles with my empty cup as Daniel chats to her with the enthusiam and grace of someone genuinely thankful for what he does. When she continues on with her no doubt vastly improved day, I ask what the future holds. Will he be back on our tellies?

“I want to do more stand-up on telly, but only stand-up. I did a lot when I was younger before I found my voice, and then had an audience turn up and I’d changed as a comedian and they got upset thinking ‘this isn’t what we saw, this is a lot darker than we were expecting.’ I only want to do it if I can be myself. I got asked to do Splash last year, and just thought ‘no.’ Let’s Dance for Comic Relief, and I said no – I’d rather less people knew me for being good, than more people knew me for being shit. I did some shitty telly when I was young, I did some stupid things, but it’s all a learning process.”

Acutely conscious of time, we make the last fifteen minutes count, jawing over vasectomies, gay penguins, dead babies and UFC before saying our goodbyes. I leave smiling, feeling that I’ve very much spent an hour glimpsing the future of comedy. It makes me excited about what’s to come.


Profits and Sloss

Article from the Sunday Herald, 11th March 2012

His line of work, after all, is one in which the ability to charm someone into bed by making them laugh is well documented – otherwise how do you explain the notches of professional lothario Russell Brand, or that David Walliams married a supermodel? Sloss, though, isn’t entirely convinced. “Since I started doing a bit of telly, I have had some female attention,” he concedes. “But when I say female attention, I mean girls between the ages of 12 and 17. I think it’s because I have a cute face.” The Donny Osmond appeal? “Exactly. It’s the cute face and the Bieber hair. I see them in the audience and they are laughing away, but there is no doubt in my mind that it’s not so much my jokes as the flick of the hair that gets them.”

Sloss, who made his stand-up debut at the age of 16, is gearing up to perform at the Glasgow International Comedy Festival this month. In five short years he has garnered an impressive CV including appearances on Michael McIntyre’s Comedy Roadshow, 8 Out Of 10 Cats and The Paul O’Grady Show. He has starred in his own BBC Three sitcom The Adventures Of Daniel, written material for Frankie Boyle on Mock The Week and sold out three Edinburgh Festival Fringe seasons – all before he started to shave. Most recently he completed a 70-date UK tour and has performed across Europe, Australia and South-East Asia.

But back to Sloss and his wooing ability. “I wasn’t a guy who got female attention in high school,” he concedes woefully. “I couldn’t talk to girls. I was confident, but I wasn’t a douche bag. Unless you are an a*******, girls don’t pay you any attention. Put me in a room with 3000 people and tell me to make them laugh, and I won’t bat an eyelid. Put me in front of one girl I have never met before and tell me to say hi, and I will s*** my pants.”

Yet, in sharp contrast, onstage he oozes colossal self-confidence. Sloss has no qualms about tackling topics less brave comedians would shirk from: one of his most infamous routines sees him describe how his brother tricked him into miming an act of oral intimacy to their mother. Given his teenage ascension in the comedy business, many of his early gags centred on his age. That’s about to change, he says. Since turning 21 last September, Sloss has undergone a real coming of age. He recently flew the coop of his parental home in Fife to move into his own flat in Roseburn, Edinburgh with best friend Ally, a “sweet, gentle, beardy guy” who “works in Poundland or the 99p shop, something like that, as a shelf-stacker”.

His comedy material is also evolving. “My new stuff is bit darker,” he says. “When I say darker, people automatically think Jim Jeffries or Frankie Boyle. That’s not what I mean. I would never want to offend anyone, but I am quite an angry person deep down.” Sloss has been collaborating on material with Canadian comedian Tom Stade. “He is making me do the comedy I have always wanted, but was too scared to do,” he says. “I feel I’m on my way to shedding this skin and becoming a newer comic.”

Is he trying to project a more mature persona away from his self-confessed “half-man, half-Xbox” image? “I’m addicted to the Xbox. That is me,” he insists. “I still am a massive child and I will be until I’m 35 – until I’m 55.”

This year’s Glasgow International Comedy Festival will see Sloss record his first live DVD – for which he received “a very good advance” – featuring a “greatest hits” of his gags. “I first did my show, The Joker, at the Fringe last year. This show is called The Joker, too, but I’m going to make it a best-of using my favourite jokes from the past four years. It’s a good way to retire material.”

The eldest of four children, Sloss was born in London and his family moved to Kirkcaldy, Fife, when he was five. His mother Lesley, 43, is an environmental consultant, his father Martyn, 48, a computer programmer. He has two younger brothers, Matthew, 11, and Jack, nine. His younger sister Josie, who had cerebral palsy, passed away when she was seven and Sloss nine.

Asked about memories of his sister, Sloss says: “It was obviously a really s*** thing to happen.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “My mum always says she knew then I was going to be a comedian because I immediately started making jokes. Not about the situation, but because I wanted people to laugh again. I couldn’t handle the sadness. What I remember is her laugh more than anything. She had a smile that could light up a room. I like that kind of laughter, that invigorates everyone and cheers them up.”

Despite the age gap between him and his brothers, they are close, he says. It’s a pity they are still too young to go to gigs, I muse. Sloss shakes his head. “Oh, they come,” he says. “Parents are idiots. I don’t know what you get injected with when you become a parent that makes you forget you were ever a child. All these parents saying: ‘Oh my God, they were talking about sex on television and my 10-year-old son was watching’. Your son has known about sex since he was eight. Fact. Or when people say: ‘I would never swear in front of my kids’. Why not? Kids love swearing. Nothing makes my two younger brothers laugh more than the word ‘d***head’.”

His own indoctrination into the world of comedy came aged 10 when his father took him to gigs at the Fringe. “I remember one night a guy on a club door said: ‘I can’t let your son in, there is going to be adult material and swearing.’ My dad turned to me and said: ‘S**, b****, c***, f***’, then to the guy: ‘He knows them all now, can we come in?'”

Sloss loves swearing. “My earliest memory of swearing was being five and writing ‘f***’ on the underside of a table,” he says. “When my mum found it, I cried. I was nine when I discovered

the true power of swearing. I do swear a lot – although it upsets my grandparents, so I try to tone it down when I’m with them.”

Is it true his mother got him a fake ID to help get into clubs to do gigs? Sloss laughs. “She did, but it was a very bad ID. It was essentially “I am 18″ drawn in with a crayon. It was dreadful, but it worked.”

His rising star means that being recognised is an increasing occupational hazard. “Most of the time it’s the loveliest thing in the world,” he says. “Obviously you are going to get some a*******s, that comes with the territory. They are looking for a reaction and I don’t give them one. I’m not a fighter. I would like to say ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter’, but I’m not much of a lover either,” he deadpans. “If someone thinks I’m s***, that’s fine. I have been started on in a nightclub. Someone tried to fight me for reasons still unknown to me.”

Given his earlier admission, it’s safe to say he’s not dating anyone at the moment? “No, and I won’t be for a very long time,” confirms Sloss. “I signed a contract with my mates. I’m not allowed to get into a relationship for two years. I’m not allowed to get married until I’m 33. My flatmate Ally tried to sign it too but he’s such a soppy piece of crap he will find someone and fall in love. I’ve been in relationships since I was 16. I have never been single.” So he’s a serial monogamist? “No, there were healthy breaks in between. My ex-girlfriend and I broke up just before the Festival. It was the nicest break-up I’ve ever had, it was completely mutual. We didn’t hate each other, we just, sadly, fell out of love.” Sloss swills the ice in his glass of water as if nursing a whisky. “She was brilliant, a law student, smart and gorgeous. I thought: ‘Well, if I’m not going to end up with her for the rest of my life …'” He trails off and shrugs.

He refutes the notion of being burned by love. “No, not at all,” he exclaims. “I just don’t think you can ever be successful in a relationship until you have been successful being single. If you have been single for several years, then you know when you are ready to settle down.”

It’s a mature outlook for a 21-year-old, I venture. “I definitely want to get married and have kids, I want a daughter more than anything else in the world,” he enthuses. “I just think that, if I’m going to get into a relationship, I want it to be the real thing. Everyone is so scared of being alone. They get into relationships too fast. The way I see it, life is fun until you are 35 or 36, once it gets dull, get married and have kids, make it more interesting.”

And that’s not the only blow to the ladies. “The hair is being cut after the DVD,” Sloss reveals. “I have had it this way since I was 15 and do like it, but want to go back to shorter hair.” What if he loses his comic prowess like Samson lost his power in the biblical fable? A frown crosses his face. “I hope my comedy is more than just my hair,” he asserts.

As for onwards and upwards, asked if he sees himself following in footsteps of the likes of Craig Ferguson – who did stand-up, went into film and is now a successful chat show host in the US with The Late Late Show – Sloss shakes his head. “I don’t think so. If, for the next five years, my life is just gig, Fringe, tour, repeat, I’m more than happy with that. I want to be a stand-up comedian for the rest of my life. I’m not using stand-up as a stepping stone to something else. Stand-up is the island. It’s exactly where I want to be. It’s my paradise.”

Daniel Sloss – The Joker is at the King’s Theatre as part of the Glasgow Comedy Festival on March 31, www.glasgowcomedyfestival.com. He also plays the Tolbooth, Stirling on March 15. His DVD will be out later this year

“7th Man Magazine”

Scotsman article

Daniel had a wonderful chat with legendary journalist, Lee Randall, who understands that a love of “comic” books and penchant to belittle his parents on stage does not mean that he isn’t actually quite deep.

Read the full article here.

Ozzie TV Interview



Ozzie interview

They interviewed me straight after I got off the flight. Hence the dazed but euphoric approach to being interviewed.