Stand-up show names are usually a very vague affair, with only the most tenuous of links to the actual material.

In contrast to this, Instrumental perfectly describes Vikki Stone’s latest tour, an endearing musical love-letter to her father and his influence on her life and career.

Beginning as a spoken-word tale of her childhood forays into music, Stone’s energetic self-deprecation soon morphed into a gradually more rhythmic almost-rap, delivered with effortless slam-poetry timing.

Backed by an array of instruments, from piano to violin, flute and even a resplendent white keytar, the likeable Stone guided us through her own rites-de-passage from life as a music-school outcast to her immediate sacking from a Mayfair jazz-bar and beyond.

Her father’s drunken antics loomed large throughout this distinctive hour; it was a mark of Stone’s skilful evocation of the man himself that an affectingly direct straight-faced tribute prompted the feeling of actually knowing him, of even caring.

Some late audience interaction involving Elton John, voice sampling and a dog costume was impossible to resist despite the nagging feeling of being a little contrived, though that was the only part that did. This entertainingly idiosyncratic performance felt both touching, fresh and most importantly, funny.