Fogg & Friends @ Cowgatehead 2

With an audience mostly yanked off a drookit Edinburgh street, and into a crumbling room that resembles the interior of a Guantanamo holding cell, there’s a tangible air of uncertainty; this could go either way. The show doesn’t so much start as just happen, foreshadowing 35-year-old Ben Fog’s loose comedic style.

Fog bounds onto the stage in a spiffy grey tracksuit suit (yes, that’s a thing), fair-isle ski-band and a neon pink t-shirt, wielding a clipboard which he soon reveals contains his entire set. He’s something of an energetic rambler rather than a joke-orientated  comic, but his enthusiasm makes up for his lack of hard-hitting material.

After around ten minutes, Fog hands the stage over to Leicester Mercury Comedian of the Year winner Kate Lucas, who delivers clever songs covering postnatal disappointment, Disney’s failed feminism, relationship woes and octogenarian lesbianism. Her biting lyrics and polished delivery display a keen comic sensibility, and are the antithesis to Fog’s unconstrained rambling. The musical interlude feels a fraction too long, making Lucas feel a little like a one-trick pony.

Fog returns to blast his way through the rest of his clipboard relying heavily on audience interaction to bolster his material. It’s not an unenjoyable hour. There are plenty of laughs as he’s undeniably funny in his own way. The show could do with a tighter structure, and Fog finding the confidence to step away from the clipboard. A likable shambles.