Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Given the noise bleed at the Edinburgh Fringe, plenty of shows come with pounding musical backing. But Adam Flood is doing it on purpose. 

The premise – some might say gimmick – of the show is that he’s performing stand-up to a dance beat, describing himself as part MC, part DJ, part stand-up comedian, aka ‘the holy trinity of unreliable boyfriends’. Spencer Jones has done something similar to this before, presenting his offbeat material as a full-on rave with looped punchlines, but here at least you get to sit down.

Even so, Flood’s pounding, self-created tracks make this one of the most high-energy comedy hours you could experience, with the comic bouncing to his beats like Tigger in a shell suit. Live mixing also lets Flood control the gig’s rhythm with precision, such as letting the beat drop on a punchline to give it more impact. 

This presentation would also offer a defence to cover any post-gag tumbleweed, but that would be a rare occurrence given Flood’s a very handy gag writer. His one-liners, of which there are plenty, work best in this format, as some of the finer points within longer discussions about his relationship or about money he’s owed from a startup he worked for do get a little lost under the music. But there’s space for him to share details of his real life and indulge in some playful crowd work, just as there would be in an unaccompanied stand-up show.

Naturally enough, Flood serves up plenty of material about clubbing itself, especially as, at 33, he’s clinging on to it as an acceptable night out by the skin of his ever-older teeth, most of his friends having settled down by now. The tone is ultimately upbeat, though, celebrating the fact that he still gets to express himself and have fun on the dancefloor. Why would you want the party to die?

With the soundtrack, Flood aims to recreate the same journey as a big night out, from the expectation and excitement of first entering the club to going to an after-party where he talks of off-brand booze and even further off-brand drugs. 

The mysterious second room contains a weird surprise, while his equivalent of the post-club comedown – a longish final section delivered through a vocoder-type effect – is a bit irritating. But other than that, music and comedy complement each other perfectly for a banging hour.

Review date: 12 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Monkey Barrel Comedy (Cabaret Voltaire)