Review: Bill Bailey’s musically comedic, surrealist ‘Limboland’

Introducing himself as “that bloke from never-mind-the-black-books-have-I-got-QI-news-for-Buzzcocks”, Bill Bailey appeared spinning on a pedestal to be greeted by the audience, as if a mannequin. From here on in, we know that we are about to be treated to a musically comedic show which will border on surrealism, pleasing us no end.

In his opening, Bailey comments that if Jeremy Corbyn had done to a falafel what David Cameron allegedly did to a dead pig, we’d never hear the end of it. Already he is as daring and cheeky as one might expect, yet he makes sure never to show a bias. He pokes fun at politicians no matter their party, being sure not to alienate the audience.

Having said this, he’s not afraid to use comedy to voice his opinions. The best example of this was a guitar he used, which he’d fashioned by attaching a neck and strings to a copy of the Bible. Bailey’s brand of comedy isn’t for the easily offended.

Bailey’s a musical maestro, and he’s not going to let you forget that.

After cracking a few run-of-the-mill jokes, we move into the kind of allegorical and musical storytelling which fans of surrealists like Noel Fielding will be familiar with. A highlight of this was a never-ending list of sounds Bailey prefers to One Direction, from most other musicians, to the rustle of autumn leaves and to the sound of jean buttons clanking in a washing machine.

It is here that the audience begin to interact with Bailey. Fortunately, there was only one heckler who demanded Bill “got on with it”, resulting in him hilariously delaying the joke he was telling by an hour.

We are asked to suggest musicians whose music is pleasurable to walk to; when one member suggests Nicki Minaj, she is asked by Bailey to leave the Butterworth Hall.

This is a comic well worth seeing live if you sometimes tire of bog standard comedians who rely on controversy to get laughs (I’m looking at you, Jimmy Carr).

After ramblings involving the near death of in-laws we come to the musical climax. A microphone is held into the audience, we are told to sing, and seconds later our voices can be heard as a setting on Bailey’s keyboard! After some embarrassment, Bailey fashions a Massive Attack style song out of a sampled drumbeat and the voices of everyone in Butterworth Hall. Genius. Bailey’s a musical maestro, and he’s not going to let you forget that.

All in all, this is a comic well worth seeing live if you sometimes tire of bog standard comedians who rely on controversy to get laughs (I’m looking at you, Jimmy Carr).

A sublime blend of music and comedy which can perhaps only be matched by Tim Minchin, Limboland is a treat for anyone who fancies a laugh from something a bit different.