This energetic trio, all more-than decent stand-ups in their own right, aren’t too cool to look idiotic for the sake of a laugh. Any dignity and decorum they might hope to have is willingly sacrificed for the sake of their ribald, over-the-top songs and sketches.

It’s not so much about the writing, as the exuberant performances, which are laced with the sort of freewheeling anarchy that evokes the spirit of the Marx Brothers. Thus something fairly straightforward – a David Blaine parody, for instance - is elevated into thing of ridiculous joy.

Likewise, song lyrics are hollered out in punkish frenzy, and there’s a rich vein of physical humour running through their set that gives it a rare energy.

Everything’s grossly exaggerated, and that extends to their subject matter, with outrageous depravities and crushingly inappropriate cultural ignorance thrown casually into the mix. Yet however off-colour the material might seem, it never really feels offensive as it’s performed with such sheer ridiculous glee.

The three are all clearly at ease on stage, and with each other, allowing them to deviate from the script, teasing and daring each other into ever more extreme territory. Hall is nominally the restrained voice of reason, Davies the towering bully and Larwood the slow, put-upon victim – but their roles are not set in stone, adding to the fluidity of their set.

It’s an alluring mix of energy and fun, and one that makes Klang an irresistible force to be reckoned with.