Fork

Fork are well aware that, as an a capella group, they are hardly in a minority at the Fringe. Within a few minutes of being on stage, they acknowledge this with their typical bravado, laying down their guidelines for the audience—"you will applaud"—and their three tongue in cheek rules for being an a cappella troupe. The music must all be done live. You must have a poster of yourselves jumping. And, of course, there must "be a bald guy". 

Performing hits for an hour doesn't sound that original: we hear everything from Coldplay to Queen, via Lady Gaga. But nonetheless, Fork remain special. The attitude and aplomb on display certainly help, and with costumes like theirs, all silver and leather, it's obvious they're not afraid to stand out. But there's also something rather charming and knowing about them. They joke at the end that they would love to kiss and hug the audience, but that they are, unfortunately, really quite sweaty – understandably given the energy that evidently goes into the show.

In fact, that energy contributes to the only significant problem with the songs; the enthusiasm of the backing singers drowns out the lead vocalist a few times. Some of the most beautiful moments of the show are the more subtle arrangements, and it would have been nice to see a little more of this. Still, Fork are brilliant fun, and while they may play by their self-imposed rules, they don't adhere to many others.