Feeling out of place isn’t uncommon, so soft lad Lew Fitz’s musings on losing touch with his roots (after being banished from the north for admitting he was cold) will strike a chord with many. It’s not that his take is particularly fresh (no spoilers, but equally no prizes for guessing he feels a bit awkward at posh London dinner parties) but he has a completely irresistible way of drawing you into his world. 

^{Pictures: Matt Stronge}

Vulnerable and gentle, his audience interaction builds connections rather than singling people out, and if that all sounds terribly sweet, well, it is. But it’s also very funny as his clear-sighted observation of the British class system and fish-out-of-water musings construct the picture of a loner who didn’t just lose touch with his roots but sawed them off and burnt them.   

Particularly beautiful is a slow-build realisation of the unforeseen consequences of ripping yourself out of your environment. Grief and loss haunt the final straight of this thoughtful, elegiac hour, bringing an unexpected emotional punch. But hey, what can you do? Turn the page and keep writing, says Fitz, and god knows, there’s a comfort in that. 

Gilded Balloon Teviot, until 29 August, 7pm.