This is a unique show that consists of physical theatre, comedy and, most of all, percussion – my ears were ringing by the end of the 80 minutes of non-stop action.

It happens against a steel framework hung with stuff like hub-caps, tyres, dustbin-lids, barrels and other junk, and the impression you get is of a grotty garage-workshop.

This is confirmed when you see the cast; deliberately scruffy and dirtied-up in worn-out overalls.

The show starts with a single guy sweeping the stage. Gradually his broom starts to pick out a rhythm as it bangs on the floor.

The others arrive, also with brooms, each adding to the increasingly complex structure of the drumming.

It’s a musical piece, even though there is no music as such. From here the cast launch into a feast of percussion, using everything that comes to hand – matchboxes, sand on which they shuffle, wooden poles, buckets, paper cups, rubbish-bins and oil drums, including the kitchen sink; four of them worn on halters like ice-cream sellers, and actually containing water, which slops out at times during the cacophony.

The comedy comes mainly from one performer who plays dumb, and never quite manages to join the others in what they’re doing, or gets it all wrong when he does.

In one episode the men wear huge inflated tyres like skirts, giving them hell from within with what may well be wooden spoons. The highlight is the dustbin-lid finale.

The lids, the only clean looking objects on the stage, flash and dazzle as they catch the lights.

It opens with a kind of wild dance with two men, each armed with two lids, doing battle in an imaginatively choreographed fight.

By the end of the show we have seen that there is no object that can’t be used for drumming, and no performer who hasn’t had his moment in the spotlight. I hope they’re wearing ear-plugs !