True to the title, Dave Bailey spends a portion of his set berating those people with limited drive and conformist taste, calling them ‘beige people’. Just like Billy Connolly has his whole career.

It’s not quite sure whether Bailey would put himself in that category. He certainly admits to social awkwardness, a dour voice and English reserve… although the very act of performing stand-up might be considered enough to elevate anyone from the conservative.

But in his comedy he is, well, beige, raising a lot of well-worn topics without a distinctive angle. The uncertainty of how to greet people (‘Double-cheek kiss, we’re not European!), the vagaries of da yoof with their funny ‘you get me, bruv?’ way of speaking, and dismay with annoying corporate cliches (‘touching base’) fill up his first 15 minutes or so. Yet there is barely an original thought among his low-level gripes.

He takes a few easy shots at Ukip as racists or swipes against government policy that are sure to go down well with a liberal crowd, while mock-protesting: ‘This isn’t a political show’. There’s no real rage against the machine, though, it’s just a punny title.

When he mocks British emotional reticence or paints the whole of Brighton as pretentious lentil-munchers, he seems to be channeling Russell Kane – but with none of the manic energy with which the BBC Three favourite sells the stereotypes, nor any desire to drill beneath the superficial.

Bailey is, he readily confesses, a beta male – out of place in nightclubs but declaring himself to have a personality, unlike those who think an interesting hat or peculiar facial hair is substitute enough for that.

Yet whet it comes to his material, you’d be quite hard-pressed to find much personality in that, either. It’s functional, competently told, perfectly OK, yet without any stamp of distinctiveness. Like the bit about people who wear Ramones T-shirts who can’t name a single one of their songs… Google the idea and you’ll find it’s been said in newspapers, magazines, books, blogs and even, very meta this, on T-shirts themselves

And that’s the problem with much of Bailey’s hour: that on a different stage, in a different city, there’s probably another comedian doing the exact-same idea. But maybe better.