Things don’t start too distinctively for Burr. As he starts banging on about how George Bush is a brainless idiot who can’t pronounce the word ‘terrorist’, you’re getting ready with your I-Spy Book Of American Comedy Cliches and prepare to tick ever box.

Sure he’s got a rock-solid delivery – something it seems all of his comedy compatriots are born with – but where’s the originality?

Gradually, though, he starts finding his own takes on the usual topics - fat folk or paedophile priests, for instance – and, better still, some occasional new subjects all of his own.

He’s spot-on with the observations, that’s for sure, and skilfully adept at recreating them – whether it be the impersonation of the speech patterns of his black neighbour in New York, or the moments when every man ‘zones out’ of his girlfriend or wife’s conversation.