Apart from a momentary brush with pop fame thanks to their 1968 hit I’m the Urban Spaceman, the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band travelled underneath the mainstream radar during a chequered career spanning most of the 1960s. But the influence of their counter-cultural music hall routines has spread far and wide, especially in the world of comedy, and there was no shortage of latterday stars — including Stephen Fry, Ade Edmondson, Paul Merton and Phill Jupitus — on hand to perform with the group at this reunion show.

Convened under the auspices of the singer, pianist and guitarist Neil Innes, most of the key figures from the original madcap collective had reported for duty, including Rodney Slater, Roger Ruskin Spear, Legs Larry Smith, Sam Spoons, Bob Kerr and Vernon Dudley Bohay Nowell. Sadly conspicuous by his absence, however, was the larger-than-life figure of Vivian Stanshall, the former leader of the group, who died in a house fire 11 years ago.

Although grey of hair and long of beard (those who still had either), the Bonzos had not lost their zany sense of theatre. Accompanied by a “house band” who actually did most of the musical spadework, the various members clowned around with good-natured zeal.

Nowell conjured a wobbly tone from a saw during a quick blast of Cool Britannia. Spear performed his famous knockabout “solo” on an amplified trouser press during Trouser Press. And a remarkably sprightly Spoons contributed energetically on spoons and drums, while also providing a steady succession of visual gags. Innes, meanwhile, took an ostensibly more responsible role as a singer.

The Bonzos’ faintly surreal humour was always an acquired taste, and if you didn’t get it in the first place it was a bit late to try to latch on to it now. Overlooked by an ever-changing montage of photographs of their younger selves, they led an audience of unabashed nostalgia seekers on a celebratory voyage around their best-loved turns, including a splenetic version of Tent led by Edmondson, the wry 12-bar shuffle of Can Blue Men Sing the Whites? and the Monty Python-esque Sport (The Odd Boy). They wound up with a jolly canter through I’m the Urban Spaceman and a suitably all-hands-on-deck finale of The Intro and the Outro.

Although performed with eccentric aplomb and received with great affection, it was an anachronistic display to put it mildly. “See you in another 40 years,” Innes said as he waved farewell. That seemed a little optimistic.