This is one of those solid stand-up show, well performed and with a decent laugh rate, but with too few distinguishing to make it really stand up.

Adrian Poynton is a moderately established stand-up and playwright ­ responsible for the 2003 Graham Chapman biographical piece A Very Naughty Boy ­ who is now making his belated Fringe debut as a solo comic.

It means he's got six or seven years of material to draw from, which he's broadly categorised into the fact that he's an idiot who always says the wrong things, and can't quite adopt the reckless rock and roll lifestyle he aspires too.

The nearest he got was throwing a TV set out of a window ­ but that's not quite the whole story, and it doesn't seem half as exciting when you know the full facts. That's another thread of the show, by the way, that what might sound like a great anecdote is often deflated when you look at what happens before and after the intersting bit.

In less themed stories, he talks about the bizarre religious tat you can buy, about the urban myths ­ or otherwise ­ that surround Disneyland, or even the man in the High Street selling 'the world's smallest kite'.

When he starts, Poynton is full of indignant, excitable anger. It does feel slightly stagey and inauthentic, but as his pitch raises, he does rally the audience behind, so the trick does work. As time progresses he relaxes into more natural rhythms, once he's established that he's worth listening to.

But his outlook is appealing, and the observation-led gags decent more than enough to keep the laughs coming.

The ultimate message of this show ­ as so many others ­ is to simply be yourself. That the rock and roll lifestyle isn't something to aspire too, but you should accept who you all, bad points and all.

The overall package that is Adrian Poynton is a reasonably funny man, but with a show that's not all that well defined. And that's nothing to really gripe about.

Steve Bennett