Andy and The Prostitutes play one dirty trick by billing their foul-mouthed ditties as a musical but Andy and co. don’t exactly pride themselves on manners.
The London-based band offer a suitably coarse, threadbare story to string together a score that shoots a satirical bullet at every section of the British ‘underclass’ in just shy of forty five minutes. Oh yes, The Prostitutes are thorough in their despicable work. No stereotype is left unturned as they croon loutish lullabies to the shell suit-wearing, benefit-scrounging, estate-dwelling chavs from behind their Blues Brother shades. Light relief between numbers come in the form of toe-curling asides from the two vocalists, who battle for their share of the limelight like a pair of cheeky schoolboys vying for the class’ attention.
The Prostitutes promise to be offensive but one blow too many leaves a sour taste in the mouth, even with tongue planted firmly in cheek. Andy’s tale of prisons, punch-ups and, of course, prostitutes, is just cheeky Fringe promotion for the band and their music. If you can stomach a set in which the lyrics could have been lifted straight from the pages of the Mail then you might just appreciate the Prostitutes as a mismatched bunch of talented musicians.
Andy and the Prostitutes drop all class from their act but could do with clipping the lyrics to avoid disappointing a Fringe clientele. The comedy doesn’t need to come clean, just clever.
