What’s happened to Steve Sheehan? Has Adelaide’s most absurdist comedian has gone mainstream? Perhaps not quite. Sheehan’s signature left-field frolicking through a mindfield (sic) of mad ideas offers up regular laughs but his latest character is far less outrageous than fans of the comedian might expect. There’s no animated Stevl Shefn here, recounting his memoirs of hermaphrodite lovers and swinging cats through his translator Fatima. His persona this time is a nerve-wracked, dry-throated parody of himself that tells other people’s jokes and performs speak-songs set to Listz and other classical music (which he plays beautifully on keyboard). His can of beer is up front and centre, which he sips at leisure through a shot glass that somehow becomes far too distracting for him. It’s a low-key performance, delivered in the style of mainstream standup comedy but he fumbles his way through the show naturalistically, like a first timer giving it a go. There’s a danger that those who don’t know Sheehan’s brand of humour may take his awkwardness a bit too seriously, particularly given it’s a self-titled show. Don’t. The charismatic Arthur Artbar is one of three venues where Sheehan is performing this self-titled show during the Adelaide Fringe. It’s ideal for this intimate piece of a man and his monologue and worth the stroll away from the east end.