Connor Burns has all the hallmarks of a brilliant club comic: a quick response to unexpected audience input, gags coming at you at a terrifying rate, with particularly eye-watering lines scattered liberally throughout. But what elevates Burns’ act is his sheer fearlessness. He’s unafraid to cut close to the bone, whether it’s with jokes aimed at Oscar Pistorius, Stephen Hawking or the Ukrainian woman on the front row. No one is spared. But it’s skilfully balanced and carefully pitched; there’s no punching down here.

Edinburgh-based Burns is fast rising and, after a successful run last year, it’s not difficult to see why. This working-class boy from a council estate tells of his travels to Australia and its comedy festivals, and his upwardly mobile life among the middle classes; but he’s always got his salt-of-the-earth Glaswegian dad to ground him. Hard to imagine he’s only been gigging six years: he’ll go far. 

Connor Burns: Vertigo, Just The Tonic Nucleus, until 27 August, 8.30pm (plus 24–27 August, 5.50pm).