"I'm still unattractive," says Daniel Kitson, referring to his recently grown thicket of a beard, "but now it's on my own terms."
Kitson is a much-touted 24-year-old northerner who looks, in his own words, like a cross between a university lecturer and a paedophile. He has established a reputation for fruity confrontations with hecklers, although there's no evidence of that in Love, Innocence and the Word Cock, his first show at the Pleasance. He says he has a face that makes people want to go, "Ahhhh." Certainly, the nerdy image and sunny demeanour amount to a highly sympathetic stage persona.
Not all Kitson's material is as distinctive. The show derives from nostalgia for his "innocent" youth. In the closing stages, he describes how something inside him died when he bought himself an ice cream for the first time. It might be a rich seam to mine, but merely serves as an excuse for lightweight anecdotes about teen romance and first kisses.
What distinguishes Kitson from the comedy crowd is his geekiness. He never styles himself an Everyman, and makes an issue of his speech impediment: "It's a stammer, not scat jazz." This outsider autobiography is interesting because it sheds light on an unfamiliar world. The shambling, charming Kitson will be a major draw when his whole act affords as distinctive a perspective.
Until August 27. Box office: 0131-556 6550 .
