Some will happily tell you that the only good thing to come out of Chippenham is the 07:55 to Paddington. Any length of time spent around a certain one of its residents, however, might quickly change that perception. The man in question is Wil Hodgson, he’s Straight Outta Chippenham and he is possibly one of the best storytellers around.

Recipient of the Perrier Best Newcomer award at the 2004 Edinburgh festival, Hodgson’s autobiographical ponderings deliver home truths via bathos and downright absurdity but cling on to a vague narrative. Endowed with a background that has taken in membership of the one-time Socialist Workers Party, temporary acceptance into a local skinhead gang and an ongoing collection of My Little Pony figures and Spice Girls merchandise, Hodgson could easily have been devised for a cheap laugh. The sincerity that comes across in his set, however, is anything but contrived.

Aged 22, having decided that three years at the University of Luton didn’t provide the self-improvement he craved, Hodgson entered onto his local Wiltshire wrestling circuit. American-style grappling, he assures us is big business in the Westcountry with many of his former colleagues vying for titles such as World Champion of Trowbridge and the like. Quick to dispel the myth that the sport is fake, rather it is ‘fixed’, his recollection of his time as a professional wrestler provide the basis of his meandering set.

Eyes fixed on the middle-distance, Hodgson frequently talks with fondness of those also hailing from his hometown, even if they happen to be chav or skinhead. Discussing the latter, he argues that the apolitical skinhead movement was ruined by a lot of bigots with alopecia. Equally passionate on the subject of chavs, he asks ‘why does being working class and wearing a baseball cap make someone scum of the earth?”.

Lambasting wearers of ironic rock t-shirts, he wonders just how funny it would be if they actually liked or cared for anything in their “sarcastic, snivelling lives”. This aside came from him discussing his love of the Ramones and other old school punk- as is the case for much of the evening, any negativity is a simply a byproduct of diversions from his strangely upbeat performance.

If you want to find out the kind of coat real hardmen wear, why Readers Wives fits in with the spirit of ’77 or how Buster Bloodvessel nearly killed a prominent neo-Nazi with a hamburger then get to the next Wil Hodgson show that you can. Failing that, get down to the Peoples’ Republic of Chippenham and find out for yourself.