Last year, the Cambridge Footlights duo were ‘successful finalists’ at the 2013 Musical Comedy Awards. ‘Did we win?’ asks Harry. ‘No’, replies Lowell. But these troubadours definitely get top marks for their sharply hilarious repertoire of songs that comment on experiences we love to hate.

The two have wonderful linguistic dexterity. Playing a couple on a date, Lowell sweetly discloses, ‘I have a black belt’. ‘In what? In LEATHER?!’ comes Harry’s maniacal reply. Their humour is mainly bathetic, with a twist. When the two are guests ‘at a sophisticated dinner party’, the meal consists of a starter of ‘salmon and avocado’, a main of poultry ‘and avocado’, and a pudding accompanied by ‘You guessed it: juniper berries!...and avocado!’ They also include the occasional literary quip, with a reference to Hamlet, and in one cover of Avril Lavigne’s ‘Sk8er Boi’, the well-known line ‘He was a boy, she was a girl. Can I make it any more obvious?’ is derisively met with ‘Well, yes, actually; gender is a construct’, complete with perfectly pretentious inflection. Their humour never feels forced or pushed too hard; the composition about there only being ‘half an hour left’ of the show is a subtle and perceptive acknowledgement of our reticence to admit boredom at the theatre.

Some of their topics are a touch predictable and I couldn’t quite identify with the catastrophising of fears at night, when thoughts that ‘all your family has died’keep you from going to sleep. But they capitalise on social dilemmas excellently. In one song about the pitfalls of dating using various multimedia platforms, the two repeat the single word ‘text’ with varying intonation to mimic the emotional trajectory of a instant message conversation, which starts off with excited fervour but then peters out into awkward uncertainty. They also pick up on our begrudging love for parents, who ‘have given us everything’ yet whom we resent for having to ‘upload your photos onto your computer that one time’.

The pair dip in and out of various personas, ranging from two halves of one brain, to two people on Tinder, to a kind of owner-and-pet combo that sees the one who is ‘a bit flabby’ calling the other ‘an albino runner bean’. I did feel at times that this left Lowell a little overshadowed, his sparse witticisms not given quite enough elbow room by his counterpart’s booming antics. But commendably, they are able to work off their audience and turn the more unsuccessful jokes into ammunition for self-deprecating humour.

I Am, I Am isn’t particularly ground-breaking or provocative, and this is both its strength and weakness. And to be honest, I’m not sure I want a show that pushes the envelope. Lively tunes and warm dialogue create an easy likeability, a winning formula for both commercial success and a lazy weekday night.