Adham Fisher in the Soho Theatre Bar, London
“So what are you?” I asked Adham Fisher in London’s Soho Theatre Bar.
“I’m not a comedian,” he told me. “Not a proper one, anyway. I have held a Guinness World Record but I have never been in the Guinness Book of Records. It wasn’t considered for the book because there are thousands of records and they can only put a select few in the book.”
“What is your world record for?” I asked.
“The fastest time to go to every New York subway station.”
“How long did that take?”
“22 hours, 26 minutes and 2 seconds… I must stress that I no longer hold the record, but I did hold it for 14 months. The current record is 21 hours, 49 minutes. There were 468 stations at the time I attempted it; there are now 472.”
“And why did you want to hold that record?” I asked.
“It stemmed from my attempts at the corresponding record here in London: the fastest time to go to every tube station. There are 270. I have been attempting that for 13 years. I have been a dismal failure at that and everything else.”
“Do other people do similar things?” I asked.
“There are a lot of people who have attempted the tube record or the various other unofficial challenges and races. There is a yearly one for Zone One stations only.”
“Why have you been a dismal failure at the tube record for 13 years?” I asked. “Is there a trick to it?”
“The trick,” Adham told me, “is the tube running as it should. Every single day there is a delay or suspension or a trespasser on the line or whatever.”
“You should go to Germany,” I suggested. “I imagine their trains run on time.”
“I did go to every station in Berlin – 8 hours, 2 minutes and 56 seconds. There are only 173 stations.”
“Have you met any of the other people trying to visit stations?”
“Yes I have.”
“Do you find they are kindred spirits?”
“Not really.”
“Why,” I asked, “do you want to do this at all? Just to get into the Guinness Book of Records?”
“Not necessarily,” Adham replied. “I have no reason.”
“Well,” I told him, “that is a very good reason in my book. But it must cost an absolute fortune going round the world doing this.”
“I have only done it in Europe and North America.”
“What is the ultimate?”
“Just to go on every rapid transit system in the world.”
“Do you have a full-time job?”
“Everyone thinks I don’t, so I will let them carry on thinking that. It makes for some very interesting comedy. If, for example, I happen to court some media attention, people will comment online, saying: Well, obviously he doesn’t have a job. And these are people who are able to spend tens of thousands of pounds following football teams.”
“Have you had media attention?” I asked.
“Yes. My moment of fame was appearing in the Guardian.”
Adham took the cutting out and showed it to me.
Adham’s own copy of The Guardian, 28.11.16.
“You carry it around with you?”
“Yes.”
“How did all this start?”
“When I started trying to ride every single bus in Leicester and Leicestershire. I was 16. When I first attempted to travel to every London tube station, I was 19.”
“How old are you now?”
Adham did not answer.
“What did your parents say when you were 16 and went off to ride buses?”
“Well, I had to leave the house at about 4.00am.”
“Did you tell them why you were leaving that early?”
“No… Well… I said: I am just going to ride buses all day. See you later.”
“And they said: Fair enough…?”
“They might have done. I shut the door before they could answer.”
“Do you live with your parents now?”
“Maybe.”
“Are they in any bizarre way related to transport?” I asked.
“No. In fact, I don’t think my parents have ever liked me being interested in transport and so that has led to me just not talking to them.”
“What did they want you to become?”
“I don’t know and I never cared. I never really talked to them about that sort of stuff.”
“16 is an age,” I suggested, “when people start thinking about future careers. What did you want to be?”
“I have never had a career plan.”
“Are you,” I asked, “trying to make order out of disorder?”
“I suppose.”
Adham still always plays the revered Human League on vinyl
“I have all my LPs in alphabetical order,” I confessed. “I am so old I have LPs… Before your time.”
“I was,” said Adham, “the only person at my school who liked the Human League and I was the only person at my school who knew what vinyl was. I sometimes DJ at Leicester railway station… with vinyl.”
“They employ you to do this?” I asked.
“Oh no no no. I just ask them once in a while if I can turn up and play.”
“You sit in a corner of the station and play vinyl LPs?”
“Pretty much.”
“Inside or outside?”
“On the station front. Not in the foyer: that would interfere with the announcements. There is a nice bit outside by a coffee bar.”
“You have two turntables and loudspeakers?”
“Yes. A little busking amp.”
“The greatest record ever made”
“What sort of music?”
“Anything. There is a record I almost always play, called the MMs Bar Recordings – a compilation of buffet car announcements from the old Midland Mainline trains before they became East Midlands Trains. It consists of various staff saying things like: Good morning and welcome to the 1054 service from London St Pancras. The MMs bar is now open and clear for service with a wide selection of sandwiches, savouries, sweets, hot and cold drinks and complimentary Midland Mainline tea and coffee.”
“This was released commercially as a record?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“To acclaim?”
“Yes. I actually think it’s the greatest record ever made because it’s so stupid it’s great.”
“Who released it?”
“An artist named Sandra Cross. I have met her.”
“Is it,” I asked, “edited in a creative way so it has rhythm?”
“No. It’s just as the announcements were recorded.”
“Do passers-by get confused by this as they enter the station?”
“One or two have. Very few of them stop. About 99% turn their heads with either smiles or bemused looks.”
“You only play announcements?”
“No. Absolutely anything from Peter Gabriel to…”
“How long,” I interrupted, “do you do this for?”
“The longest stint has been about 13 hours.”
“Is there a record for this?”
“Not yet.”
“You know the Rule of Three?” I asked. “So far, we have had the Guinness Book of Records and you playing vinyl records. Is there a third type of record in here?”
“There is the Public Records Office.”
“Have you been there?”
“Not yet.”
Adham’s publicity for a 2016 MOvember record attempt
“You have been doing this since you were 16,” I said. “How are you going to develop it? You could play your records on every station platform. You could play Midland Mainline announcements on the New York subway system. Do you think you will still be doing it in ten years time?”
“I would like to.”
“Are you married?”
“Not last time I checked. I am the least likely person I know to be married.”
“Why?”
“Marriage just isn’t really my thing.”
“Your main passions are transport and music?”
“I describe myself as a very unpassionate person. I don’t consider myself very passionate about or an advocate for anything. I have just somehow wound up doing certain things. I never wanted to be a DJ. Public transport and comedy and music are just things I have happened to do. I would not describe myself as being any good at any of them. Or anything.”
“You should,” I suggested, “be working for some transit system somewhere.”
“I think if I worked in the transport industry, I would end up hating it. Rolling stock track gauge, infrastructure; I know nothing about that; I don’t particularly care for that sort of thing. So far, it has always been a novelty for me, especially in London because I have never lived here. So taking the tube, the bus, any commuter rail or the tram or the cable car is always a novelty for me.”
“You did a comedy show at last year’s Leicester Comedy Festival.”
“Yes.”
“What was it called?”
“Extreme Commuter.”
“And this year’s show was called…?”
Publicity for this year’s Leicester Comedy Festival show
“Extreme Commuter 7.”
“Because?”
“The Comedy Festival gig this year was my seventh. I have done one since, which was the 8th and the next one will be in Sheffield. My ninth.”
“Have you got Asperger’s?”
“I have no idea. I have never been diagnosed with it, but… I don’t even know what I would have to do to request a diagnosis.”
“These comedy shows you do are anecdotes about you riding the rails?”
“Exactly. Rails, buses, trams, whatever.”
“Do you want to do the Edinburgh Fringe?”
“To have a successful show in Edinburgh is the Holy Grail of all fledgling comedians but, because I don’t consider myself very good at this comedy thing, I am not actually bothered if I go to Edinburgh or not. If it happens, great; if it doesn’t happen, great. It would be nice, but I don’t expect ever to be a success there.”
SO IT GOES - John Fleming's blog 