Never Mind the Banter - Buzzcocks needs to drop the backslapping and find its edge

“The escalation of climate change. Brexit. Greece going bankrupt. Trump. The rise of the far-right. A global pandemic that’s crushed all economies. All since Buzzcocks went away. Coincidence? Get ready to heal, world. Welcome back to Never Mind the Buzzcocks.”

This was how hulking host Greg Davies reintroduced the anarchic rock-and-pop panel show after seven years off our screens. It was now on a new channel (swapping the fusty old BBC Two for the recently launched Sky Max) with largely new personnel on a shiny new set.

Davies was following in the footsteps of Mark Lamarr, Simon Amstell and Rhod Gilbert as quizmaster, while the two teams were headed up by Buzzcocks veteran Noel Fielding (“like a Goth back to a flame”) and newcomer Daisy May Cooper (with resplendent a blonde mane). As much-loved comedy types with cross-generational appeal, both were shrewd signings. If only they had been allowed to get a word in edgeways.

Proceedings began with an elaborate skit starring a provincial panto’s worth of pop charts has-beens: Antony Costa from Blue, H from Steps (not to be confused with H from Line of Duty), Abz from 5ive, Edele from B*Witched and rapper Tinchy Stryder. All terribly knowing but clearly aimed at an ironic millennial demographic, rather than the contemporary pop crowd.

For this first rebooted episode, regular guest Jamali Maddix was joined by Little Mix’s Jade Thirlwall, singer Anne-Marie and comedian Nish Kumar. Introductions lasted so long that it was eight minutes before the first question was posed. The ad-breaks came as something of a culture shock after nearly two decades on the BBC.

Old favourites such as the Intro Round and Next Lines were as enjoyably chaotic as ever. The Identity Parade saw the teams struggling to pick out members of N-Trance and Bucks Fizz. Anne-Marie outraged Eurovision winner Mike Nolan by suggesting he’d had Botox. The very idea.

The dry, deadpan Thirlwall and the jovial Maddix stole the show. There were amusing anecdotes about defecating seagulls and giant Quavers. Liam Gallagher was described as “the kid at school who always wore his coat, even on sports day”.

In the host's chair, Davies was amusingly spiky but less cruelly scathing to the panellists than his predecessors. He’s unlikely to induce any reactions to compare with the infamous hissy fits by Huey Morgan, Lemmy from Motörhead, Dappy from N-Dubz and Preston from the Ordinary Boys – let alone get strangled by a guest, such as Amstell’s throttling at the hands of Jermaine Jackson.

Instead, everyone was in on the joke to a smug degree. They chortled so heartily at each other’s quips, it began to feel like a showbiz backslapping session. This was less of a quiz, more of a “bantz sesh” in the vein of bafflingly popular Sky stablemate A League of Their Own. The tacked-on “Girls versus Boys” theme was naff and unnecessary.

When everyone stops trying so hard and the series settles down a bit, it might prove as entertaining as the original. Perhaps the producers should fuel the free-wheeling fun by filling the mugs on the desks with booze, like legend has it used to be the case. For now, though, this was a solid but self-congratulatory comeback.