As the back-projected roll-call illustrates, it would take considerably longer than the average Fringe show to acknowledge properly in song all the significant musical talents who have died aged 27.

The range of musical styles involved might also be a challenge too far. Jack Lukeman and his band, however, are well up to the task.

With a mighty voice somewhere between Scott Walker and 27 Club member Jim Morrison in timbre, Lukeman is a natural at Doors songs and Doors-associated material, including Alabama Song, but he's just as convincing interpreting a Canned Heat blues, Echo And The Bunnymen's Killing Moon, Amy Winehouse's Love Is A Losing Game, and the Drifters' Up On The Roof.

The Kildare man's voice is the star but his stagecraft, personality and musical settings provide a strong supporting cast as he delivers Robert Johnson's Love in Vain, to his strummed mandolin among the audience, reconfigures Purple Haze to a keyboard groove out of Zero 7, and renders Ol' Man River, in tribute to car-crash victim Jesse Belvin, magnificently a cappella. Ends Wednesday


Greek mythology, internet porn, superbly schooled choral singing, online dating, imaginative polyphony and a full-cast variation on the famous scene from When Harry Met Sally are the perhaps disparate ingredients that go into making Moon one of the outstanding musical surprises of Fringe 2012.

Telling of how the Moon, aka Diana and represented by the women singers in alluring Greek goddess apparel, brings love into the life of terminally ill laptop refugee Sam, this is a modern-day fairy tale in unaccompanied song. The 16-strong choir, with the guys in contemporary, almost gang uniform-like street clothes, sing beautifully and carry the narrative in graceful, well-choreographed movements. Occasional lines jar in the lyrics but overall this is – to these ears – original, bold and attractively presented work. Ends August 25


Ten years after his passing, the time is surely ripe for a Jake Thackray revival – and Tony Cima is just the man to lead it. Cima doesn't try to recreate Thackray or his lugubrious plumminess; he just celebrates a master of succinctly clever silliness and matchless observatory powers with his own voice, a great sense of comic timing well learned from his hero, and a guitar style sympathetic to the songs' romping momentum.

In an informed and affectionate tribute that's over way too soon, it's great to be reminded of Nuns On The Run forebear Sister Josephine's catchiness and brilliantly bonkers storyline, and the tirelessly hilarious rant of On Again! about how the posterior trumps the tongue as an attraction in a partner, although Cima's scene-setting rendition of Thackray's tale of the bantam cock that's living libido loco – and then some – would be worth the entrance fee all by itself. Ends Wednesday


IN a rare opportunity to see as many as five early stringed instruments played in the same performance, Gordon Ferries exhibits unadulterated mastery of each in La Royalle, a programme of mostly French music for guitar, lute and theorbo from the baroque and Renaissance period. Opening with Robert de Visee's Suite In D Minor for baroque guitar, Ferries explores in detail every nuance of the piece, giving a refined elegance to the natural ebb and flow of the music.

Switching to an instrument which for today's audiences rarely takes centre stage, Charles Hurel's Suite In C For Solo Theorbo was an engaging example of the versatility and intricacy of such a marvellous instrument.

Moving on to play the Ramirez guitar, the instrument most similar to acoustic guitars played today, Ferries gently enticed the Latin-flavoured harmonies of Manuel Ponce's arrangement of three Mexican folk songs.

Throughout the performance, Ferries had the audience spellbound with such a varied array of music from the period, bringing out every voice in each piece with clarity and sensitivity. He beautifully evoked in the music a sprightliness and a subtle playfulness, and exhibited seemingly effortless dexterity in passages with hugely elaborate ornamentation.

Miranda Heggie