As capitalism collapses around us while far-off countries tear each other apart, it�s not easy to be optimistic these days.

FEET FIRST,
Royal Mile, Edinburgh
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As capitalism collapses around us while far-off countries tear each other apart, it's not easy to be optimistic these days. On the first day of the year, however, revellers perhaps still reeling from the night before were invited into a parallel universe which had set up shop the full length of Edinburgh's High Street, where St Giles Cathedral squares up to the City Chambers. The result was Feet First, a street arts spectacular initiated by the Iron-Oxide and Boilerhouse theatre companies, and featuring a compendium of 13 new works, all of which were set on looking forward to a brave new world.

Past the stripey structures that marked the entrance, a human cash machine doled out neuros, the currency of the kingdom, which came complete with an advice slip ("Don't Run With Scissors," it says) and allows access to Mischief La-Bas' Market of Optimism. Here, stalls hawk wares such as annual optimism contracts, time-shares in Nirvana and other upbeat accessories.

Meanwhile, The Wish Gatherers promenaded, allowing you to whisper your hopes and dreams into giant mechanical ears. R J McConnell's News Real broadcast some imaginary good news, while Graham Tydeman's Aquaphon, a customised, larger-than-life musical contraption, played George Gershwin's Summertime in the style of The Clangers.

With installations down closes and large-scale projections beamed on to the City Chambers, all this made for a random junkyard pageant, hosted by the Abbot of Unreason, who free-associated nonsense in the style of Ivor Cutler. He also offered a few soothing words. That those words were "Mogadon", "Valium" and "Lithium" was probably the funniest line of the night.

The recent roots of such Edinburgh spectacle date back to the mid-1980s with troupes such as Tollcross State Circus and an underground performance and cabaret scene which found a spiritual home at the original Bongo Club. One could go back further, too, to 1960s and 1970s adventures with The People Show and Welfare State. The fact that we're now in the throes of some seeming resurgence of similarly inclined work itself shows the state we're in, even with something on such a grand scale as Feet First.

Things work best when they're more formalised, most notably in Cora Bissett's Deep Breath, a 15-minute song-cycle which finds Bissett crawling from the wreckage in the Mercat Cross on New Years's Day, heart-broken and hurting.

By the end, Bissett has shed the past, and is flying high towards the future, held aloft by a crane. The crane comes into play, too, in Wishbox, the grand finale to the evening, in which a giant white cube hangs over the High Street, and sees an aerial ballet chasing after a million lost wishes that were blown away.

It's an impressive sight, but, as with everything else, only half-formed. With the pouring rain questioning whether street art in Scotland in winter is a sustainable proposition, spirits remained high enough to go with the flow in a world of wishes where it's always a happy New Year. If only.