Daniel Sloss: Teenage Kicks Review

By now you've probably heard of Daniel Sloss. A precocious 18-year-old comedian hailing from Fife, his two-year apprenticeship under Frankie Boyle's wing has given him both an enviable headstart on the circuit and a healthy taste for morbid material. This forms the spine of his set, which is sprinkled with the expected smattering of wank gags and tales of weird teachers.

Sloss relates a slew of you-were-like-me-once tales, which are greeting with nostalgic laughter by a capacity audience. One anecdote recalls the horror of a class full of 10 year-olds accidentally being shown a birthing video played in reverse - baby snatched from a pallid, exhausted mother and violently shoved whence it came. It's a smart subversion of the relationship between youth and sexuality, and betrays a consistent intelligence in his writing.

Sloss is a curious proposition, and certainly there's a fertile vein of comedy to be mined here. It's difficult not to relate one's own teenage tribulations to his tales of hoodie scaremongering and relentless masturbation. In many ways he does seem young – the awkward brush of the fringe, the ever-so-slightly nervy exchanges with the audience.

These tells aside, though, there's little sign of youthful naivety. It's an assured act and, opening night jitters aside, one that shows a young man capitalising on his lack of years with aplomb. Near the end of the set, he tells us that he just recently rejected a university place to pursue his comedy aspirations full-time. On tonight's evidence, this would seem a sound career move.