Review by Steve Bennett

It comes as no surprise to learn that former pebbledasher Walker once fronted a pub rock band, given that his stand-up features more than a touch of rock-and-roll showmanship, and a charismatic, commanding presence that hijacks his audience's attention.

He's a master of the quick, cheeky and chummy banter which he seamlessly merges with his own material, delivered in the comedy-friendly North East accent that has served the likes of Ross Noble so well.

In truth, some this stuff isn't especially distinctive. He's a big fan of putting on a Lord Of The Rings voice, and manages the comedic feat of combining that with the other most over-used hack subjects ­ smoking dope. Mind you, you can't deny it's effective in generating the laughs, and since his 'can't find the clitoris' routine winds its way towards the phrase 'foetal incest', it certainly sticks in the mind longer than most.

Yet he combines this obvious crowd-pleasing with more personal anecdotes; tales that would go down a storm when you're telling your mates that he's successfully translated into enduring stand-up routines.

It's not so much the material that generates such glee, though, as the cracking pace and dynamism of the performance.

Such effortless on-stage professionalism usually takes half a career to perfect, but Walker's achieved it within five short years. As the material is starts to catch up, he's becoming an increasingly accomplished act.

Review date: 1 Oct 2004
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett