This incomparable pair of cabaret artistes has been performing together for 30 years since first meeting in the Footlights at Cambridge and, unsurprisingly, they command the stage and their audience with complete ease. They call this tour "100 Not Out" because both have passed 50 and may now be said to have mastered the art of how to entertain.

The writer of their wonderfully camp lyrics is Kit Hesketh-Harvey, exuding an air of debonair loucheness, a naughty smile permanently on his lips. His is the star name of the duo, built up by frequent appearances on Radio 4 panel games. But I hadn't realised how important is the presence of the Widow', Richard Sisson. He is, to make the obvious comparison, quite as good a pianist as was Donald Swann, but far more droll. He jumps up between each song to support Kit in whatever studied humour is afoot and actually plays the audience a touch better.

They are sharply satirical, and only occasionally brutal, in all that they sing. They are extremely naughty and suggestive throughout, but, but only once over nearly two hours misjudged, with a song about dogging' (if you don't know, don't ask). Otherwise, they hit their targets at the very highest levels of erudition, sophistication and allusion.

There was a splendidly turned attack on Andrew Lloyd Webber entitled Steal From Someone Else and arch digs at Delia and Nigella. The middle-classes who rush to Cornwall were skewered and they had a good go at Murdoch's Sky (to the tune of Speed Bonnie Boat!). Even more impressive were their political forays - indeed, they opened the show ("Our role is rather like that of Vera Lynn") with a song about the War on Tourism/Terrorism involving confiscated tweezers and Evian Water. Chopin was put centre-stage to prove that "there're no plumbers left in Poland" and Hesketh-Harvey purported to give us a world premiere try-out of a vicious little song about the Liberal Democrats.

How happy the audience was to be given a unique example of Garage House Handbag Rap - starring Dame Edith Sitwell; and this reviewer will long remember how natural it was for us all to join in a Punjabi version of Nessun Dorma based on Indian cuisine. I barely have time to report that the Widow played The Flight of the Bumblebee wearing a paper bag, while Kit plucked his violin with a bee-keeper's protective net piled all over his head that reminded me of the Elephant Man. National treasures, I think.