Theatre: PoeJazzi

Marilyn Monroe, grotty Thai clubs, childhood sexual abuse and men who can dance: not what you’d generally expect to hear about in a meeting room of a plush Grassmarket hotel. Yet over the coming days PoeJazzi, a loose collective of spoken word artists (and the occasional musician) hailing from London and LA bring their lyrical manifesto to bear on this bizarrely unfitting space.

It quickly becomes apparent that, despite the ambition of this project – performers rotate nightly, reacting to each other as the run progresses to create a continuously evolving show – there’s not a whiff of pretension surrounding PoeJazzi. Having opened proceedings with an almost hymnic reflection on the transitory nature of celebrity, delivered in an irresistible lilt, tonight’s MC E. Amato turns to the mic ‘for convention’s sake’ and humbly thanks us for venturing out in the pissing rain. Next up, London’s PoetiCat, her voice of the Lily Allen/Kate Nash school of gentle cockney drawl but her lexical deftness far greater, delivers, barefoot, a poem so modest yet chokingly emotive you almost forget it’s essentially about that old chestnut, unrequited love. What follows – the furiously eloquent diatribes of Noni Limar, and the knock-out, physically-punctuated candidness of Joshua – is consistently blinding, each performer totally at ease with their own voice.

‘Something for everyone’ may be a bit of a platitude, but with the diverse talent it showcases, this remarkable poetic feast actually offers it. Go and see it, but be warned: the fact that it’s over far too quickly, coupled with the promise of a brand new show every night, means repeat visits are a virtual foregone conclusion.

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