Over the years it feels as if the comic singing trio Fascinating Aida have had more farewells and comebacks than Frank Sinatra. One friend, when told that I was going to see them perform as part of what is billed as their last ever tour, said: "They can't still be going - they must be OAPs by now." Not quite, but even though their witty ditties are now more likely to be about hot flushes than the pleasures and pain of the singleton life, the members remain girls - or rather, gals.
This is, after all, a group of women who have made a song called Sew on a Sequin not merely their anthem, but an entire philosophy and way of life. They made the kind of jokes that would make matron blush if she heard you giggling over them after lights-out.
Now, my tolerance to this Bridget-Jones-with-brains approach to life and art is extremely low, and there were times during this overextended evening when I didn't want to sew on a sequin as much as ram a tonne of the things down the trio's throats.
These murderous thoughts occurred most strongly during the yodelling (yes, the yodelling) and a seemingly unending audience singalong extolling the virtues of boring old New Zealand in a world of high anxiety. "Remote" is rhymed with "goat" in this little number as nimbly as "Stroud" is rhymed with "shroud" and "not" with "snot" elsewhere. A typical FA song goes: "I fancy the Pope/ His photo's in my hallway/ I'd like to elope/ With him or the bishop of Galway." Another is the lament of a woman with herpes, a third is a hymn to the Sloane Ranger. It is astonishing what you can get away with when you deliver it in a cocktail dress with disarming charm.
· Until December 6. Box office: 020-7369 1731.
