Before it was a ubiquitous social norm with non-compliance punishable by death, liking Stewart Lee was actually a bit weird. I remember getting the DVD of Stand-Up Comedian which was recorded live at The Stand in Glasgow, a legendary but modest room: not the kind of grand theatre or city arena that most post-millennium acts were recording their material in. It was 2006 and I had never seen anything like it. I watched it over and over again trying to deconstruct the alchemy of it; the fine line he walked between inclusion and antagonism; the sense that he was playing with the audience; and the intangible nature of the character he was portraying (giving away just enough of himself to allow genuine connection).

But mostly what I learned was that it’s OK to assume your audience are smart. That they can follow the threads, that you can let a piece breathe without having to hold their hand with a gag every 30 seconds. If you trust your audience then they’ll repay it. Not only that but they’ll feel smug as fuck doing so, like they’ve been rewarded for their patience with something far more valuable than a disposable routine.

He returned to The Stand in 2008 to record his next special, 41st Best Stand Up Ever!, and this time I was in the audience (you can hear my apparently very distinctive laugh throughout the recording). Whenever I’ve been lucky enough to perform at The Stand, I muse on how I’m walking the same stage as the show that shaped me as a teenager. And yeah, there’s a large portion of my ego that hopes I might have the same effect.

Kevin P Gilday: Spam Valley tours until Thursday 30 November.