This is the autobiographical tale of Markham’s own battle with leukaemia, interspersed with wonderfully realised flashbacks of his youth lived out amidst the city’s thriving punk scene. The dance numbers are intricately choreographed and executed with passion and energy, perfectly capturing the rebellious spirit of the soundtrack which accompanies them, courtesy of the versatile and quite remarkable four piece band tucked away at the back of the stage.

The piece on the whole is wonderfully cast, full of characters that are larger than life. The stand-out performance is undoubtedly delivered by Sam Donovan; his Pete Wylie is the epitome of swaggering teen spirit.

The play is complicated ever so slightly by its structure; while the two interwoven narrative strands work well symbolically, their plots have little to do with each other, and the lapse between the then and now finds the characters somewhat lacking in development – Rosalie Craig’s Sally comes out of nowhere into the tale, leaving me unable to feel much sympathy to her plight, or indeed for Graham Buckley’s Joe.

However this, I suspect, may be the point. There is no place in this story for pity, giving centre stage to a fighting spirit that dispels the tragic end you could be forgiven for expecting from the decrepit set and ominous presence of a hospital bed.

This is a celebration of a transient era, and as a result the play is quite self referential, with plenty of "you had to be there" moments which I suspect made more sense to the various leather-clad 50-somethings in the audience, but despite this, it manages to be as relevant as it is nostalgic, and well deserving of the three standing ovations it received at the end.

This is an inspirational life-affirming tale for our times, as touching as it is entertaining. Eric’s is everything that it stands for: energy, rebellion and a damn good time.

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