Neil Innes: A People's Guide to World Domination

It's apparent that Neil Innes is performing his current show before an established fanbase. When he asks if the audience remembers The Rutles, his query is met with an affectionate cheer. On uttering his immortal introduction, many attendees recite the punchline in tandem, overcome by nostalgia. Newcomers may struggle to see the significance of much of the material Innes performs, spanning his days with the the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band and the Monty Python team, through to his current incarnation as a self-proclaimed Ego Warrior.

A fine songwriter whose work specialises in affectionate pastiche rather than parody, not all of his material can be neatly categorised as funny. His performance, however, can. Compositions are enhanced by facial expressions and bodily gestures which range from subtle to gloriously hammy, whilst interlocked by hilarious, often self-effacing introductions and anecdotes. Frequently bizarre audience participation is encouraged.

For some there is no prospect more galling than that of a roomful of comedy nerds quoting Monty Python routines. Still, it's hard to deny the poignancy of watching Innes conduct a sing-along rendition of Eric Idle's 'Philosophers Song', before closing his set with the straight faced 'How Sweet to be an Idiot', a plastic duck affixed to his beret. An unrecognised national treasure, he stands as a beacon of wilful, almost archaic silliness.