In a city overstuffed with comedy, clowning, and cacophony, Jeremy Sassoon offers something altogether different — a masterclass in musical storytelling, reverent in tone yet utterly alive with warmth, humour, and historical depth.

Back at the Fringe with his acclaimed show MOJO: Musicians of Jewish Origin, Sassoon brings a stripped-back, unplugged version to the Assembly Rooms — just a man, a piano, and a century’s worth of music that shaped the very bones of popular culture.

The format is simple, but its execution is anything but. Sassoon acts as our guide through a sweeping, genre-hopping celebration of Jewish songwriters. It’s a tightrope of a task — squeezing the musical lineage of an entire diaspora into an Edinburgh hour (that’s 55 minutes, Fringe-time). Yet somehow, Sassoon manages not only to honour the greats, but to make each stop feel intimate and essential.

He begins, fittingly, in 1924 with George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue — the spiritual ignition point for much of what would follow. From there, we’re treated to a Gershwin medley that includes a haunting Summertime, all lush phrasing and subtle control. Then it’s into the golden age of songwriting, with Irving Berlin and Jerome Kern providing the unlikely soundtrack to mid-century America’s Christmases: White Christmas, Let It Snow, Winter Wonderland, The Christmas Song. Sassoon acknowledges the irony with a wink — Jewish composers penning the definitive yuletide canon — and the audience laps it up.

But this isn’t just a nostalgia trip. The show expands into the culturally restless terrain of the 1960s and beyond: Bob Dylan’s lyrical revolutions, Leonard Cohen’s brooding genius, Carole King’s tender resilience, Lou Reed’s streetwise cool. Even 10cc and Amy Winehouse make appearances — their inclusion both a surprise and a welcome reminder of just how far the influence runs.

Sassoon is a natural raconteur, lacing the evening with anecdotes and curiosities: the origins of songs, biographical snapshots, unexpected connections. It never feels like a lecture — more like the best kind of dinner party, with a Steinway instead of a dining table. His musical transitions are seamless, his touch at the keys both delicate and dynamic. Every chord feels considered, every note placed with care.

The unplugged setting serves the material beautifully. This is no razzle-dazzle revue; it’s about connection, history, and reverence for the craft. Sassoon’s voice is rich and warm, capable of both crooner tenderness and bluesy grit when the moment demands it.

By the time the final medley lands — a lovingly assembled mash-up of Jewish-penned standards and pop hits — you’re not just clapping; you’re quietly marvelling at how much of your personal musical memory has been shaped by this lineage.

MOJO is more than a jukebox celebration. It’s a heartfelt tribute to creativity, resilience, and the unsung threads that stitch together our collective soundscape. A quietly brilliant hour — elegant, enlightening, and exquisitely played.