Forget all that confrontational nonsense about Stephen K Amos’s ability to dominate a room, in More of Me he does not so much work through his issues as embrace them.

He still has the audience in the palm of his hand, but this is through the power of comedy. He takes them into his world and gives them a glimpse of theirs as seen through his eyes.

He might use an audience member as a cypher, treating them as a dumb toff, but it is gently done and in order to reveal the real depth of his jokes to those who are not quite up to speed.

The remnants of aggression are still visible, but they are the quickly rejected chaff of previously used gems.

The real strength of the show, that which earns him the standing ovation he deserves, is in his finding of a collective guilt in a largely white audience.

It is the guilt of having once used, in playground chat, language now considered beyond utterance. The everyday language of Love Thy Neighbour - “nig-nog” and “nigger” - that a generation used in naive innocence, just as a toddler repeats words overheard but not understood.

Whether it is in Amos’s power to forgive or not is irrelevant. His simple acknowledgement is enough.