Gruff professionalism, overpowering sarcasm and bland material spoil a potentially strong Backyard line-up
"IRRRREEEELLLLLAANNNNDDD" screeched the inebriated harpy, loud enough this time to warrant Dougie Dunlop's full attention. "I presume that's something to do with the rugby?" growled the louche Scot. "I fuckin' hate rugby. How about you just sit tight and shout when I say more words you fucking recognise, huh?"
It wasn't a particularly clever put-down, but it did the job; an apt description
for the rest of Dunlop's set. While his act was well-honed and confident,
it was a little stiff. His tales of council estate life in nearby Walthamstow
("a step up from homelessness") sparked little recognition in
a crowd full of accountants, but the strength of his self-conviction kept
them with him regardless.
Matt Welcome sprinted onto the stage wearing a shirt as loud as his act.
He had energy but his expletive-riddled pontificating and relentless sarcasm
quickly grew boring. He seemed to lose both his thread and his audience
repeatedly. Particularly bad was a ten-minute rant on how many afternoons
he's spent wasted on the sofa. The only thing more desperate than a single
43-year-old bloke who still spends stoned afternoons in front of the TV
is a single 43-year-old bloke who tries to make a stand-up routine out of
it.

Aaron Counter's gentle charm just about covered for his unremarkable material.
A skit on how remaining faithful to his girlfriend depended on her parents
decision to support them financially - ("When I'm tempted to have an
affair, I have to stop and wonder what the shareholders would think")
- stood out in an otherwise patchy set.
Henry Barnes