Relative comedy newcomer Adam Flood fits a specific model of Gen Z male stand-up that feels like it was pioneered by Ed Night: quick, acidic jokes, pastel streetwear, more confident with an extremely unflattering haircut than the rest of us could ever be with a normal one.  But probably also suffering from anxiety and existential malaise.

Flood’s debut is a typical getting-to-know-you hour in most respects, but peppered with enough quick turns of phrase and well-crafted surprises to be a minor Fringe highlight.

Flood once served time in a latter-day indie landfill band, and he’s managed to find a fun way to bring that element to his show. Many of the segments are delineated and buoyed by perky chiptune backing tracks, and he occasionally goes full musical comedy with actual songs and liberal use of his pet Auto-Tune. A song about being a teenager high on mushrooms at Leeds Festival is a particular riot, but none of them misfire.

The emotional through line is a little more shaky, and seems drawn from a familiar playbook for debut shows. Like most of us he’s had a few different jobs, but f that’s sufficient grounds for a crisis of identity, it’s not quite communicated in the text.

However, in its specifics, the material is rock solid. Routines on Henry Hoover are recognisably retrofitted into the narrative, but demonstrate Flood’s skill as an observational comic, and the biographical material about growing up as in Stoke is even better

Cleverly, he saves one of the show’s highlights until the final moments, issuing a list of corrections for all the exaggerations and fabrications that naturally take place in the course of a Fringe show. It’s a very funny bit of form-breaking from a new comedian with talent to spare and a growing understanding of his own persona.