Frankly my dear, I’m still a Skinner fan

IF Dad Rock exists, does it follow there’s such a thing as Dad Comedy at the Fringe? You know, battle-scarred veterans who can remember the old Gilded Balloon before it burnt down and want to see if they can cut the mustard in a sea of chatterbox millennials, podcast poseurs and younger, established stars.

I only ask because, let’s face it, at 62, Frank Skinner is getting on a bit. But don’t just take my word for it.

‘I’m still doing it,’ he says, scanning the crowd with a mixture of self-mockery and pride at the fact he’s not ready to hang up his mic just yet.

‘It’s like when you see a wasp in November.’

Of course, Skinner has nothing to prove at the Fringe. Back in 1991 he saw off Jack Dee and Eddie Izzard to waltz off with the Perrier Award before forging a successful TV career. He’s been back a few times since

then – and this appearance shows he’s lost none of his appeal, or the ability to effortlessly work the room.

His return comes ahead of the launch of his new tour show, Showbiz. If the material isn’t quite Skinner in full masterclass form, the pleasing hour is a reminder that age cannot wither funny. And Skinner is still very, very funny indeed.

Given the title, there’s very little focus on showbiz per se, although names dropped include Elton John, the Krankies, Jack Whitehall and Fleetwood Mac’s Stevie Nicks.

Age and getting old feature heavily, as does the toll it takes physically. ‘I’m at an age where injuries don’t come with an anecdote,’ he quips, deadpan.

As for Brexit, don’t get him started – because he has no material about it. Well, maybe a teaser involving the death of democracy in the UK, the punchline of which is unlikely to make its way into Hansard.

Also getting an airing is his thoughts on being dad to a young son, Bruce Forsyth’s ashes, his BBC show Room 101, why Yoda from Star Wars is a drag on the state, and a selfdeprecating finale contrasting the merits of his show versus a horror story from his youth.

A keen football fan, no doubt he’d appreciate the analogy that form is temporary, but class is permanent. And Skinner remains a class act.

Assembly George Square, until Aug 18