Before Jamali Maddix even appears, the atmosphere is set: Busta Rhymes on the speakers, a restless late-night crowd. When he takes to the stage, it’s with a relaxed swagger, chatting loosely, giggling at his own thoughts, and instantly pulling the room into his orbit. Maddix begins by teasing the audience with some questionable opinions on cheating; he’s deliberately poking the bear, daring the tipsy 10pm crowd to bite back. This is where he’s at his best: reactive, fiery, sparring with whoever takes the bait. His set meanders through relationships, politics, ethnicity, body image and travel, spoken with a masculine, bantering energy that feels intimate and conversational, like you’re shooting the shit in a McDonald’s drive-thru at midnight. You get the feeling he’d laugh at your jokes, too.

Aston is akin to a stream of consciousness, packed with cynical takes on modern life that range from Michael Barrymore apologists, to Ozempic, to poor white people being ‘terrible at being poor’. Not every story lands with a killer punchline, but the scrappy ride is half the fun. The stories come loaded with sound effects and exaggerated facial expressions: pops, blams and eye rolls. The riskier jokes flirt with discomfort, but his delivery keeps the audience happy. Maddix balances provocation and playfulness, and the crowd are completely complicit in his mischief.

Jamali Maddix: Aston, Monkey Barrel, until 24 August, 9.55pm.