Bill Bailey : En Route to Normal, Playhouse

 Two hours of Bill Bailey and my chest muscles ached.  That's the best possible sign of a good comedy gig.

Of course he walked on to huge applause from a sold out Playhouse audience, desperate for live entertainment, as we still are after the past couple of years.  But he immediately endeared himself further with a five minute rant about eh UKGov cabinet and the bizarre nature of it's occupants.  Truss as the human incarnation of Error 404 struck the perfect note.  He loathed them all, and so does Scotland, so he was on safe territory.  A Boris randomiser popped up from time to time as a reminder.

While his stated primary theme was the return to some kind of post pandemic normal, and the subject did keep cropping up, the show is largely a vehicle for Bailey's surreal imagination and musical inventiveness, kept fresh through audience interaction.  Subjects included saving the Polynesian tree snail, a musical about cockneys climbing Everest, skydiving in Oz with a forgetful fan, adapting pop and rock songs to a ragtime style, a French Eurovision entry and the awkwardness of meeting Chris Martin after slagging him off.  Every story carries the listener into some alternative universe, every musical episode shows off his skills.  There are some deeper moments, on the reality distortion of fame and threats to biodiversity, there if you want to find them.  But the roller-coaster of laughs always remains dominant.

His achievements on Strictly got a mention, and it's clear how much his innate musicality and gift for physical humour must have been assets.  Five stringed instruments, three percussion, three keyboards, a theremin and an iphone.  A tableful of cowbells and an array of car horns.  Music dominates the Bailey universe, and if he doesn't have the greatest of singing voices his diction makes sure the lyrics aren't lost, while his playing is often impressive.  Who couldn't love Nessun  Dorma on cow bells?

I'd love to be able to pick up on some faults, to demonstrate that I was being a critic.  But I was laughing far too much for that.