Trevor Noah opens with a joke about taking photos then and now. Today it’s all “picture picture picture, delete delete delete”. Back then it was invite your friends round to survey the hallowed holiday album. The joke returned to mind 90 minutes into Noah’s set, when it dawned on me that Off the Record is a holiday album, in which the South African shares with us observations and adventures (buying clothes in Paris; a trip to the Taj Mahal) from his world tour so far. And it’s a well assembled album, no doubt – the pictures all beautifully composed and framed – even if the landmarks look familiar and the snapshots start to feel like one thing after another.
I feel churlish: Noah is a fantastic comedian, and there’s lots to savour in this, his first set since quitting The Daily Show after a seven-year stint. An early section on that well-trodden standup subject, air travel, shows we’re in extremely capable hands, as the 39-year-old delivers a riff to make Michael McIntyre seethe with envy, about the battle for the armrests when sat in the middle seat. Another choice early routine makes hay with the idea that “white people love being flabbergasted!”, a phrase Noah incants over and again as he illustrates this or that white person wallowing in performative but impotent fury. (I felt very seen.)
