Being the only Brexiteer in the comedy club seems to have become something of a millstone for Geoff Norcott.

His political credentials get brandished easily enough during this near-capacity gig at the Maddermarket with the Labour leadership hopefuls get a drubbing (Rebecca Long-Bailey is likened to a primary school teacher, Keir Starmer looks suspiciously like a man who makes his own pasta), but beyond that he seems, perhaps understandably, wary at being the spiritual heir to Jim Davidson.

His funniest material is where his world view leans into everyday life: being worried that his carpal tunnel means his wife may leave him for a man that can open jars, his doubts about driverless cars, riffing on government intervention in the form of the 'porn pass', or the "white privilege of a panel beater from King's Lynn".

Where he does stray into what may be more controversial territory, it is bracketed with awkward warnings about political correctness; the protestations rupture the rhythms of the show somewhat.

Support act Konstantin Kisin has similar hesitations, but takes more pleasure in wrongfooting the audience with his Russian Jewish background.

Kisin gained some notoriety after being booked by a student union but refusing to agree to a 'behaviour agreement' banning a long list of topics. It's clearly a badge he now wears with pride, but like Norcott, it's not one he needs when he could let his gags speak for themselves.