Review by Steve Bennett

Golden’s certainly talented: a lively multi-instrumentalist with an impressive vocal range, he’s at his best leading his good-time party band, dropping warm, self-deprecating banter between the spirited rhythm and blues. When he’s joined by his sometime collaborator Barry Cryer, the impact is magnified a thousandfold.

Stripped of the band, though, his solo stand-up is less interesting. He’s been at this game for a long time, and there’s no knocking the assured stagecraft, but, my, does the material seem dated.

Sure, he tries to keep up with the times with references to modern music, but just like the typical dad trying to be cool, he doesn’t get it quite right. The most recent reference, to Prodigy’s  Smack My Bitch Up was eight years old at the time of writing; and he even manages to namecheck those wunderkinds of 1990, New Kids On The Block.

This alone doesn’t date the set; such faux pas can easily be laughed off as the product of a superannuated teenager, not quite in the loop. But the style of much of the rest of the show from dodgy puns, rag mag gags, lyric-altering songs and even tired Robert De Niro or Bob Dylan impressions define an act with so many signs of aging even Laboratoire Garnier would be stumped.

There are sharper gags and routines that buck this trend, but too few of them. And Golden’s gentle self-mockery can still work wonders – even if he hasn’t the iconic status and avuncular manner that makes similar shtick work so well for Mr Cryer.

Review date: 13 May 2005
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett