At the Assembly Rooms on George Street (18:05) Stewart Lee mocks those that have come to watch his show as friends of fans. His usual sarcastic manner and exaggeration are present as he addresses the Fringe audience in a way only he would ever get away with. It is immediately clear that he has essentially…
Kawabata Mokoto’s indestructible acid-improvisers swap their in-commune ’60s psychedelic playlist for a stack of ’70s electric Miles Davis jams. Jazz squares splattered on their spats in horror when confronted with Miles’ most out there 1975 monstrosities, Agharta and Pangea, both recorded on the same day in Osaka, but Japanese fans lapped up these otherwise despised…
Watching Stewart Lee perform is akin to observing a sea squirt settling on a rock and attempting to eat itself. One of the scene’s smartest talents, Lee is back on the Fringe, gnawing away at comedy conventions. Not for him the easy laughs, Lee’s are increasingly shows of an altogether more complex persuasion. It’s his…
DECRYING the “slow death of the Fringe” days before performing at one of the Festival’s most renowned venues may sound a tad counter-intuitive – but this is Stewart Lee: sultan of satire, comedy idealist and an icon for those of an anti-populist bent. And at £15 a ticket Lee’s Carpet Remnant World at the revamped…
On the first of these two discs, Chernobyl, Peter Cusack presents unadorned field recordings from in and around the exclusion zone that still surrounds the failed Russian reactor. His radiometer whirrs in a deserted village. An abandoned Ferris wheel clanks mournfully. Flourishing wildlife twitters as power cables buzz. Transplanted peasants sing laments for land they…