Brian Fleming manages to draw out the best aspects of an intimate venue whilst also expanding its confines, stretching a tale from inner city Dublin to Africa. Fleming has an unaffected charm which makes any divide between performer and audience irrelevant, joking in his introduction that he wants our standing ovation to go like this.

He tells his story of a friendship forged through percussion between him and two African men that brings him to white beaches and mud huts and brings Chico and Bala to Fatima Mansions. It is told with the easy, unpretentious touch of truth and natural charisma and with the rare occurrence of non-excruciating audience participation.

This is not only a one-man show, it is also a one-man band. Fleming beatboxes, sings, mimics and plays a never-ending variety of drums, looping and re-looping all to create a richly evocative aural tapestry. It is a journey played -and undergone - by ear. Technically, it is neither slick nor without slight difficulties, with Fleming reaching to tap buttons on his Mac and fiddling with dials, but the nature of the story and Fleming’s performance means that when he asked us ‘How am I doing for time?’ we called back ‘You’ve got loads!’

The standing ovation was executed exactly as he asked.