His Luton bungalow had more than one story

It might be a stretch to call John Hegley’s show multimedia, but we did get a series of slides, starting off with a drawing of the Luton bungalow where he grew up, featuring inspirations for the ensuing hour and a half of reminiscence. One of many drawings, it featured his sister with her doll, the goldfish named by his French grandmother, a former Folies Bergere dance, and an otherwise unremarked upon Dalek on TV. Having sung a song about it, we learned of his family’s move to Bristol, were introduced to his half-French grandad, and a woman who lived in a dog kennel. Granted, I may have got confused on that last point, for it is Hegley’s delight in the mundane and ordinary that is key to his worldview. This is a man that can devote a part of his set to picking up dog hair with Sellotape.

Perhaps most surprising, for those familiar with Hegley’s performances, he was joined on stage by Brass Brio, a trio who not only provided backing to his ubiquitous ukulele playing, but performed their own compositions, as well as music by Dizzy Gillespie and Duke Ellington. They added a welcome extra dimension to a show that was a winning patchwork of whimsy. We got to vote on the best – actually the least worse – elephant drawing, we solved riddles, and sung along in celebration of pear-shaped catastrophe. Silly songs, daft drawings and prosaic poetry entertained an audience more than willing to join in the only technically optional audience participation. Whether it was the challenging complexity of the Guillemot song – Hegley was particularly tough on the quality of jellyfish mimes – or simply bobbing heads when Bob was mentioned, the Corn Hall crowd took a childlike pleasure in joining in the impish fun.