Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Even among comedy icons, greatest hits shows are a rarity. Yet Graham Fellows' evergreen John Shuttleworth has the musical back catalogue and doughty persistence to return to past glories and still be gigging after 40 years, a decade longer than Edinburgh Fringe sceptics Oasis.

Both have been drenched in nostalgia from inception and arguably leaned heavily on established musicality, with Yorkshire's keyboard troubadour cycling through the eclectic, international array of pre-programmed beats on his Yamaha instrument with familiar, trainspotterish relish.

Typically, after long-time wariness, Shuttleworth is only now coming round to the Gallagher brothers well after their heyday, with Liam's mic technique pleasing his Royalist inclinations. It's doubtful that the Mancunians' rider was limited to a mushy, slowly consumed banana and judiciously let-off party popper, though.

Yet even on a swelteringly hot afternoon, I doubt that the Britpop band's mini-residency at Murrayfield heard a greater communal roar of pleasure than that which greeted Two Margarines, Shuttleworth's classic ode to the paralysis of choice and pain of frustrated thrift.

As evidenced by the semi-ironic Midweek, Shuttleworth still exists in an enclosed suburban world of semi-retirement, his only real agency traversing and writing songs to the majesty of highways like the A1111. Yet even he affords himself a topical sigh at the state of the wider world, before retreating once more into his cosy, teatime preoccupations.

Of a vintage to remember when the Edinburgh Comedy Award was sponsored by Perrier, a waste of good carbonation in his estimation, he respectfully pays homage to those fellow chart troublers and high street electrical retailers he's outlasted over his career. Whither now The Thompson Twins? And Rumbelows?

Likewise, he hails meeting his manager Ken Worthington as a defining moment, even if the pair's latest miscommunication has led to Shuttleworth's current show title error. Supposedly pandering to younger generations, he barely even bothers beyond a throwaway observation, unhurriedly munching on his banana.

Shuttleworth's claim to be ‘an early proto-feminist’ with the barely-lifting-a-finger domestic contribution of Modern Man hasn't aged as well as he'd like to think.

Yet lurching from samba to bossa nova, Eggs And Gammon to Austin Ambassador Y-Reg, I Can't Go Back To Savoury Now to a finale of Pigeons In Flight, simply a medley of his best-loved tunes is enough to prompt perpetual swaying and mass sing-alongs. Top that Liam! Oof!

Review date: 14 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Jay Richardson
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard