The theory informing this show is that it's often better to lie than to tell the truth. Quite why Adam Rowe has chosen to express this idea with an hour of discomfortingly honest standup is anyone's guess.
Still in his early twenties, we get the impression the comic has already lived a full life and is wise beyond his years. He's comfortable in his own skin and shows no desperation to be loved, cherishing his time on stage as a period during which he can give voice to his most destructive thoughts without facing real consequences.
Surly tirades against vegans and ethical shoppers do little to soften the performer's image or ingratiate him with the audience, but at least paint him as a consistently reactionary figure. When he applies the same dismissive attitude towards dating and social etiquette, he hits upon some extremely strong routines. His observations are grounded and delivered with sharp, unsentimental clarity.
Rowe's is an authentic working class voice which makes no concessions to the genteel airs of his audience or the Fringe at large. He's right to take this approach, but its own drab milieu sometimes threatens to suffocate his show. A more seasoned performer could easily remedy this issue through tonal variation and a lightness of touch, qualities that Rowe will more than likely acquire as his career progresses.