Eat Your Heart Out

Like cabaret's wilful younger sister, Eat Your Heart out is determined to reject the trappings of the neo-burlesque revival - or whatever we are calling that this week. Host Scottee kicks off by mocking Edinburgh's apparent ukulele obsession, rotating through a series of increasingly absurd and glamorous costume changes. Veering from acerbic stand up to taut contemporary dance, Eat is late night feast of off-kilter vaudeville.

The adverts may claim no burlesque, but the show has the awkwardly hewn satirical edge of the best burlesque. Scottee is an amiable host, seeming to know his audience by name, offering prizes and wandering on and off stage at will. Co-host Myra Dubois is a little stereotypical, rocking the aging northern drag queen look and condemning racism in a rather too worthy monologue. The token striptease is superb: Queen Elizabeth strips down to a modern football hooligan in a routine that remembers burlesque is actually about making a funny point.

The atmosphere is uneven, and Scottee's shout outs to Live Art are not misplaced. When a man eats an onion and leaps into the audience, or Dubois manages an incoherent and improvised sing-along, the slip into incoherence is reminiscent of performance artists trying their hand at vaudeville. There's also a slightly hectoring tone - Miss Annabel Sings forces the crowd on stage. It's a change from pandering, even if it can be uncomfortable.

This is, at least, a real alternative cabaret. Never quite going full tilt at the politics, moments of brilliance - Masumi Tipsy is astonishing, and Helen Noir's introverted opera is elegant and disturbing -alternate with shambolic self-indulgence, Eat Your Heart Out is a guilty, mixed pleasure for anyone who finds the cabaret scene too polished and respectable.