This article is from 2006.
After the slow start for which he is notorious, Alun Cochrane unhurriedly opens his box of conversational goodies, and the audience, who have been equivocal, can’t believe their luck. Then the show erupts with dizzyingly pernickety excursions into found comedy and the bewildering complexity inherent in the most mundane trivium. Cochrane, by his own admission, sometimes thinks about things so hard he faints.
The chirpy Glasgow-Yorkshireman has a comedic sixth sense for knowing where not to stop. His obsessively punctilious fantasies get funnier the further they plunge into lyrical pedantry. Significantly, he also manages to avoid almost every stand-up cliché: men-versus-women fluff, outré filth and audience-terrorising are entirely and refreshingly absent. His world is gentle and welcoming, despite consisting almost exclusively of the (verbal) vivisection of life’s minutiae. If Cochrane doesn’t set your world on fire, he’ll certainly keep it warm. And the unicorn sketch is dynamite. (Sam Healy)
Gilded Balloon Teviot, 668 1633, until 27 Aug, 8pm, £9-£10 (£7.50-£8.50).