Norman Lovett @ Gilded Balloon Teviot

A festival as manic as the Fringe needs someone like Norman Lovett. Younger comedians equate noisiness with hilarity; Lovett shuffles around the stage and speaks in a quiet voice that soothes his grateful audience.

He has no routine to speak of. He shudders at the thought of overachievers like Michael McIntyre who not only write jokes, but even memorise them. Instead he has a nice chat with the audience, finding out their shoe sizes and favourite movies. He’s also got a shopping bag. It’s not filled with carefully-selected comedy props, but random knick-knacks he picked up in local pound shops. At one point, he gives the audience a lovely recipe for poached eggs. It’s that kind of show.

It’s all a bit like having a chat with a dotty old bloke at a bus stop. He’s rambling, and some of his yarns have neither a point nor a punchline. But when he can be bothered to tell a joke, it’s often hilarious. Given the fringe chaos outside, it’s quite pleasant to find someone this relaxing and funny.