The Establishment, Ronnie Scott's, London, review I think he's on to something. Laugh at, not with, Keith Allen if you must. He's best known now as the grizzled pere of mockney popster Lily. But back in the day - when the alternative comedy scene was in its mewling and puking infancy - he was one of the wildest cats around. At the Comedy Store, he heckled viciously, stripped without compunction, and one night even took to performing his set backstage from the dressing-room. He didn't give a hoot. So he's got capital when it comes to lamenting the money-raking sanitisation of stand-up today. Fair play to him for invoking the maverick genius of Peter Cook and setting up a new home for subversive elements under the illustrious banner of The Establishment, legendary Soho den in which Cook and his fellow Beyond the Fringers mocked the powers that be and set the Sixties Satire boom a-rolling. After a couple of late night try-outs amid the low-lit splendour of Ronnie Scott's, the plan is to shift to Greek Street, where it all happened, for a monthly shindig. Judging by the second night, if he plays his cards right, he may yet have people queuing up round the block to get in. In any event, he'll be refusing entry to AA Gill and Alastair Campbell should either have the temerity to visit - "I loathe and detest them," the old pirate, a somewhat shakey emcee, growls into the mic. As apparently he does jazz, which he gamely suffers - for the sake of the bohemian cause - from the James Pearson Trio, who give us a rattling round of Dudley Moore's Song For Suzy as a prelude to a filthily funny recording of Cook's pornographic rewrite of a racing commentary, before the acts strut their stuff. It's a mixed bag, to be sure. In an age where a musical remix of Clegg's apology speech can hit YouTube within 24 hours, the lack of hard-edged topical and political material is faintly disappointing but could be remedied. Gay acts like Paul Sinha, opening, and Scott Capurro, closing, peddle familiar outspoken fare, the latter almost inviting a fatwa with his remarks about Islam ("The Koran is a reaction to the Bible - sequels are never as good.") Best of the wags is newcomer Lee Kern, with his bilious attack on Twitter celebrities; worst of the bunch, alas, is the former British ambassador to Uzbekistan, Craig Murray, no natural entertainer, who dribbles on about Julian Assange as though at some LSE seminar. All the same, it's in the surprise ingredients that The Establishment's original spirit is honoured and rekindled. There's a captivating drag artist (Dickie Beau) who lip-syncs to a piteous interview with Judy Garland, a gutter-mouthed burlesque turn, Ophelia Bitz, who expertly ups the sleaze-quota, and a baby-faced teenage Irish band, The Strypes, who look like a Beatles tribute-act but have a sound and stage-presence that's electrifying. If there's plenty more where that came from then Allen's in business.