“You’re in an alleyway opposite a sex shop and walked through piss to get here ­– don’t tell me you’re not a bogan”. During two years of steady-like-the-lift operations, Roxanne Parlour has hosted plenty of shoegaze scenesters glumly sipping vodka limes as electro-indie-minimalist-clash-pop pounds out their ear drums. So it’s apt on their birthday that they are hosting a man who is going to make the crowd react even if he has to climb down into it, hug a man and demand “let me in!”.

You don’t sit in the dark with Brendon Burns. He wants to interact with you and on a night when media representatives made up the majority of the crowd, their dogged observation of non-interventionist journalistic standards left Burns “pushin’ shit up a hill” to try and get people to talk to him – despite the fact Brendon is Australia’s best-barely-known-comedian.

Perth-born, Burns built his reputation behind the barbs and banter of Britain’s stand up scene. If overseas validation is something Melbourne audiences look for – and Brendon might suggest they do – then you can’t get higher than Edinburgh’s if.comedy Award, which he won in 2007.

Never has crudity been expressed with such clarity. Every topic is loaded and the audience is kept on task by Brendon’s constant interaction. If someone laughs a little less he’ll talk about it, if someone laughs a little more he’ll keep on about it until that person has to shove their fist into their mouth to gag the laughter. This reviewer drew attention for writing too many notes (tips for beginners: pad and pen are hard to hide if you’re too close to stage) and the brazen back-and-forths illustrated Brendon’s bare-faced desire to be understood as well as piss-funny.

After so many years overseas, Brendon has returned to Aus direct, detailed almost to the point of disgusting, and determined to mug ocker Aussies and scenesters alike with his message made for Melbourne’s Festival. See him if you like it raucous, raw and racial, and see him even if you don’t.

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