I cannot remember when I first became a fan of Stewart Lee. I can remember the first time I saw him: a pixelated (I can’t blame him for this) man dressed like the manager at a Mexican restaurant (I can for this) on an episode of Never Mind The Buzzcocks, where he answered both questions incorrectly. Since then, I have watched every pirated clip of his stand-up shows on YouTube, every lecture or podcast on which he has appeared, every conversation that has been recorded between himself and Alan Moore. I have become, in other words, insufferable.

When first watching his work, it became clear that he was a comedian of singular quality, and not just because he likes to tell the audience so. In fact, that is a component of what makes his act seemingly impenetrable. At his best, Stewart Lee is a master manipulator, a puppeteer who weaves throughout his routines a self-awareness, affected arrogance and cultural nous that makes him, as my dad astutely surmised, “as slippery as a greasy pig”. He purposefully writes jokes to fail so that he can lecture the audience on their own shortcomings and, in doing so, can produce laughter at tenfold the rate of the original gag. Thus, when he is unaware, arrogant or culturally ignorant, or when a joke doesn’t land – well, how can the audience know that this situation hasn’t been manufactured by Lee? Quite simply, they can’t.

The new show, which I saw at the York Theatre Royal, on Feb 1, is framed as Lee’s battle for relevance in a world awash with, as he calls it, $60 million Netflix comedians, who denigrate minorities to an international audience whilst complaining about some imagined encroachment on their freedom of speech. Lee has touched on this topic before – there is a great joke in his Snowflake special about Ricky Gervais “saying the unsayable” – but never has the topic been mantled so self-reflectively by him. It is the ‘woke’ Left against the ‘cruel’ Right, the old Alternative Comedy heroes against the louder Netflix young blood; it is Lee against the Man-Wulf.

Sitting on the front row, I was in prime position to watch this battle unfold. The show had a false start, with Lee coming on stage to explain the creation of the new show, and how (much like at the start of Basic Lee with the constant rotation of Tory PMs and Frontbenchers) American politics is so volatile that any joke will immediately be eclipsed by a far more ridiculous, real event, citing Elon Musk’s double Nazi Salute. This idea was developed later with jokes about Gregg Wallace, which Lee claimed to have written before the allegations of Wallace’s scandalous behaviour was made public. It is another way in which Lee frames both himself as falling behind, and the world as something to be condemned– subtly dosing the audience with teaspoons of pathos while never seeming wholly toothless.

Overall, it was a fascinating watch. Hilarious, yes, but Lee is fulfilling Chris Morris’ Comedy Vehicle prophecy: “you are on your way to making yourself, literally, a physically funny object”. This is where Lee excels: whether it is his Bob Dylan impression, his oversized pantomime villain costume, or his ill-suited stool, he is more slapstick than ever. It is this combination of low-brow humour – an old man, desperate for attention, running and screaming in an American accent, covered in fur and brandishing a tiny, plastic member – with the high-brow social critiques that create a piece of truly refreshing comedy. Stewart Lee is a court jester with his eyes on the king, salivating.

My party also had the fortune of being repeatedly chosen by Lee to answer some questions during his routine. It’s hard to speak ill of a comedian when he’s called your girlfriend “inherently evil” and scratched her head with his werewolf claws, made you stand up in front of the crowd to call you “in quite good shape”, while your dad had to help him pull his trousers down. Frankly, I think he knew I was going to write a review and was trying to bribe me. He needs all the help he can get; it’s not like The Times called him “the world’s greatest living stand-up comedian”.

His last show, Basic Lee, presented its simplicity as a palate cleanser for Lee and his audience; Stewart Lee VS The Man-Wulf is the bombastic cheese platter (not just a big wheel of Red Leicester), scintillating, full-bodied and rank. I would wholeheartedly recommend it.