Tommy Tiernan Alive in Edinburgh

What must Tommy Tiernan be thinking, as he ominously prowls the stage prior to the show’s official beginning, in the dark, like a predator assessing its prey? Might he actually be nervous?

The hugely popular Irishman admits early on here that, comedy-wise, the bigger the venue, the duller the gig. So Tiernan is actively trying to alter that. Alive in Edinburgh is a new hour, every night. Or every other night, to be precise, as he presumably needs the one in between to experience new things to emote about.

There’s a lengthy section about the recent Liverpool/Bournemouth Premier League game, for example: not the most promising starting point, but the Liverpool fanatic takes us on an epic journey through the drama and romance of such communal activities, the cathartic importance for men, how “you didn’t shed a tear at your mother’s funeral” but wept when Steven Gerrard left. It’s powerful stuff, off the cuff.

Now long and grey of beard, Tiernan would look like a wise old bird even if he wasn’t standing on a big stage with a big crowd hanging on his every word. Not that he stands still much. The energy and ire is extraordinary, as he launches into each new topic, the buzz of fresh ideas reverberating around the room. You just don’t see this sort of naked passion in these hefty venues. Come the end, you’ll be aching to return two days later, loath to miss more of his wisdom.

They really should sell a season ticket for this show.