Glenn Wool: Wool's Gold

Well-seasoned standups have long looked on with undisguised disgust at the way rock stars get to just crank out the same old hits on every tour, while they’re busting a gut writing a whole new hour annually. Or, at least, that used to be the case.

Actually, the free fringes are now peppered with newer acts doing best-of sets to help fund their ‘proper’ shows in the pricier venues, so why shouldn’t a Fringe semi-legend like Glenn Wool try a gig full of his most crowd-pleasing material, to see if it still wows those crowds second time around? He is, after all, just about the most rock ‘n’ roll of modern comics: indeed, this set culminates in the memorable tale about and him, Belgian beer, and Iron Maiden.

Then again, "rock ‘n’ roll" tends to refer more to behaviour than music these days, and while much of Wool’s best stuff involves drink, drugs and an occasional sexy swan, telling it umpteen years later invariably elicits a weary "those were the days"-type postscript. They’re a more honest breed, your comics. You don’t see Iron Maiden banging out 'Run to the Hills', then admitting that they now struggle to stroll up steep inclines.

The worry with a greatest hits set is that the original passion will have passed, but Wool’s fury has matured: emboldened by a larger venue these days, his gruff vocal delivery now almost verges on the operatic, great booming roars that could fell a horse. Long may he rant.