I don't like the idea of comedy being hijacked for political or other purposes," says Ken Dodd.

"I'm not an activist. I'm not trying to make a political point, or any kind of point really. If I have an agenda it's just the title of the show - happiness. My agenda is giving people a good time."

In a world where a lot of comedians - Mark Thomas and Shazia Mirza to name but two - use their craft to put across some very political and topical points, it seems odd to think of this as a form of 'hijacking'.

However, Ken Dodd has been purveying determinedly agenda-less laughs to the masses for 50 years now, so perhaps his attitude is more a form of comedy purism. Producing really good, baggage-free comedy designed purely to give pleasure must be a demanding art.

At 75 his stamina is remarkable. He's constantly on tour, his shows can go on for four hours and while his audiences may have aged with him, he's still a household name who fills theatres.

He's been described as a genius and fellow Liverpudlian comedian Johnny Vegas once queued for an hour outside a theatre just to shake his hand.

With his tickling stick, protruding teeth, mad-professor hair and mastery of music hall patter, Ken is one of the last luminaries of a kind of innocent comedy that barely exists any more.

"There was more 'art' to comedy years ago," he says. "Comics were masters of their craft.

"Today there are precious few places to learn that craft, and far too much emphasis on vulgar material.

"It has always been my belief that audiences expect to be entertained and relieved of the cares and worries of everyday life for a couple of hours, not insulted or embarrassed.

"The audience are the bosses. We are there to amuse - and if you don't have a decent respect for the audience you won't get anywhere."

Ken has certainly studied his craft. At his house in Liverpool's Knotty Ash, where he has lived since he was born, he has a library estimated to contain around 50,000 books of comedy gags and jokes.

Besides his stand-up shows, he's played Malvolio in Twelfth Night and court jester Yorick in Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet. This indicates his ability to convey pathos as well as belly laughs and, like most funnymen, his own life has not been all rainbows and sunshine.

For a while a tax scandal prompted by his rejection of banks in favour of his penchant for storing cash in his attic looked set to tarnish his harmless-eccentric image, but the court ruled in his favour and the case provided him with a few good Inland Revenue gags.

His dedication to comedy extends to keeping a 'giggle map' of Britain, showing what jokes people in different parts of the country will appreciate.

"When I was a salesman I used to keep notes about what I sold and who was buying it," he says. "When I turned pro as a comedian, I began doing the same thing, so I ended up with a kind of graph of how jokes were received in different places.

"I'm taking a chance here, but I think in Brighton they rather like sexy gags. Or let's be polite and call them 'romantic'."

Starts 7pm, Tickets from £18.50 to £22.50, Tel 01273 709709