One of the comedy highlights of the year is upon us – Edinburgh Comedy Award winners Tim Key (main) and Jonny Sweet (newcomer) are bringing their shows to the Soho Theatre. They give us the behind-the-scenes story of their Edinburgh 2009.

The first show of the run

Tim: "The first show’s always a lot of fun. I always have something called “ropey previews” where I’m not sure whether what I’m taking up is a load of old shit. I did ten previews for my last show and nine were horseshit. This year I had a better ratio but still had "some problems in east London” a couple of times. I always tell myself my show will work better once it’s actually inside a portacabin (my venue was an 80-seater tin). Last time out my first night was woeful. This time it was encouraging. People laughed."

Jonny: "The first show I must say was a bit of a bind. I had to come straight from Party and it was a case of discovering what props I hadn't prepared properly ('Where's my pear?' etc) and, due to the nerves/stress, I rattled it in at about 38 minutes. Not a seasoned pro, certainly. It was 55 minutes for the rest of the run.'

The daily routine

Tim: "I was in a play every day written by dreamy musician/comedian/actor/writer/homeowner Tom Basden, called Party. I had to blurt my lines each day at 2. After that I followed a strict, dull, pathetic pattern. I’d plod home, buy some vegetables and some fish, have a bath at 6, eat healthily in front of Dragon’s Den (on Dave) at 7 and leave the house at 8. I’d buy some Kronenburg and cake from Scotmid and go to the Pleasance Courtyard. There I’d meet Fletch (the burke who does the lights in my show), have a pint, fool about in a very small space, “get in the mood” and then do the show. After that, carnage."

Jonny: "I would wake up at about 11, cough a bit, dampen the coughs with a quick cigarette, neck a berocca, head to the Assembly Rooms for a pastry, think about why I hadn't had a haircut before Edinburgh (it looked AWFUL. Embarrassingly bad. Like a sort of 70s lego haircut...), do Party, do my show, think about going out for a “big one”, decide against it, go home for a chicken kiev, baked beans and potato smileys with Nick Mohammed, watch an episode of From the Earth to the Moon, and go to sleep feeling a cough coming on."

The Jonny Sweet post- Edinburgh, thousand- yard stare. Photo: Ben Cole, Debbie Scanland

When the reviews came out

Tim: "I think most papers came in later in the month so the whole thing had already gone whatever the opposite of “tits up” is (“tits down”?) by then. There’s plenty of fun to be had by Googling yourself and seeing what punters think about your show. I say plenty of fun. Plenty of dreadful problems."

Jonny: "I was my own press person, because I couldn't afford/didn't warrant professionals, so unfortunately I knew whenever a reviewer was coming in. Which was, as my landlord said when I asked him to put a lock on my front door, “a bit of a ball ache”. But people came in quite quickly, I think partly because I had just got the role playing David Cameron. I didn't please everyone but they were in general surprisingly nice."

Keeping momentum up

Tim: "Without meaning to sound like a complete moron, I liked my audiences. So it was easy to keep momentum up. There was always something going on – some dufus playing up on the front row, some bizarre offering from Fletch etc – things that keep the show fresh. Even if you start to flag in the second half of the festival (I was poor value in the pub), you manage to find enough energy in your venue for that hour."

Jonny: "By about the third performance I'd reached the limits of my physical and psychological stamina. I'd say things like, 'why is the festival a whole month? Why isn't, like, a week, or an afternoon?” Luckily I had lots of people like my director (Stefan Golaszewski) to give me pep talks and make sure I wasn't letting the show flag. Though after one show where half the awards panel came, he told me it was 70% as good as it should have been. Which I suppose is a pep talk..."

When the judges popped in

Tim: "You really try not to think about it. Otherwise you go loopy. I never asked when the judges were coming in, but sometimes you recognize them as they waddle in, or pick them out of the darkness. It’s tough. You want to mention it. At least I used to. You want to say use phrases like “feels a bit flat in here, doesn’t it?” or “laughing like drains, aren’t they?” depending on how it’s going. Also, the ones I knew, I liked. So there was a mixture of emotions. I’ve seen them about since. I get quite emotional but hide it well."

Jonny: "I knew when the judges were coming in and would occasionally spot one of them in the audience. I greet people into my show in character by hugging them and showing them to their seat. It was a difficult making sure the judges got a full experience of the show, but not being seen to influence them with a tactile sort of affection."

The Tim Key post- Edinburgh, thousand- yard stare

The final shows

Tim: "My boy, Fletch, got ill a week from the end so the last week was very, very peculiar. My stage manager took over behind the desk and I found a beautiful Dutch violinist to cover for Fletch’s musical element. The show was constantly threatening to go tits up but somehow, with these new guys playing out of their skin, it remained tits down right through to the end. Well, it turned into a fairytale. Once I’d won the award I had three more shows left. They were fun. There was an enormous release. And no judges for the first time in what seemed like forever. Fletch came back at the end. It was a good finish."

Jonny: "They were a whirlwind. The show on the day I got nominated was probably my worst one. I was ill and exhausted and I was probably punch-drunk from the news. There was a great extra show at about 10pm pm the day I won, which was fun and a lot of friends came along."

When my name got read out

Tim: "Almost complete mental and physical collapse. You’d like to remain cool but it does mean a lot, that award. I’ve been going up for a decade and seen a lot of splendid comedians winning it, so winning it myself was completely and utterly overwhelming. Frank Skinner and David O’Doherty gave me the (heavy) award. I’ve loved Skinner for years. O’Doherty and I are friends. So it was all a bit much. In my “speech” I thanked a lot of people and each time I dwelled on a name I started welling up and had to move on to another. My speech was merely a list. Disappointing. To be honest the award still hasn’t sunk in. I’m still delighted."

Jonny: "I remember, as they read the nominees, I was praying it wasn't going to me because I had nothing whatever to say if I got on stage. When they read my name out I didn't quite know where to look or what to do, so I kissed my girlfriend, then Nick Mohammed, then anyone else in a three-metre catchment zone. Then I went on stage and thought for a second before launching into a traditional, witty opener: 'Um...ummm...oohhh....errr... Thanks? Ever so much.'

Click here for Tim's London gig list.

Click here for Jonny's London gig list.

Call the Soho Theatre on 020 7478 0100 to book tickets for either, preferably both shows.