biding timeThe need to distinguish between genres is simultaneously vital and irrelevant at the Edinburgh Fringe. Choosing whether an all-male, all-singing, all-dancing, promenade staging of The Wizard of Oz should go in the Dance/Physical Theatre/Music/ Comedy/Theatre section of the brochure can have a company tearing at each other’s throats. But once you’ve got the punters in, the heady combination of between-show drinks and festival feel-good factor means that audiences are often more impressionable than they might ordinarily be.

Billed as a “live multimedia gig, theatrical experience and single release”, Biding Time (Remix) must have caused programmers no end of confusion – its audiences too. Based on singer Louise Quinn’s experiences of being signed to a major record label and co-written by Quinn, Pippa Bailey, Grid Iron’s Ben Harrison (who also directs), and the band’s drummer Bal Cooke, it is a bonkers, beautiful and incredibly brave piece of work – like a Katy Perry music video on LSD.

Despite its pretentions as theatre, it is more gig-play than play-gig, but there is a narrative of sorts. It’s a sketchily drawn fable of a band forming, signing for a record label under a malevolent manger (performance artist Dianne Torr, relayed by video) and their inevitable realisation that success comes at a price. For Quinn, that price is two-fold, with the lead singer having to compromise not only creativity for commerce, but integrity for outward sexuality, as she discovers what is expected from a woman to succeed in the music industry.

It’s a familiar narrative, but one told through a combination of impossibly catchy songs, zany stylised movement sequences and feature-film quality visuals (Uisdean Murray) – all orchestrated by a giant white rabbit (Martin McCormick). Oh, and there’s some weird stuff about nature with a man with foliage on his face.

For all its eccentricity, though, the most intriguing element of Biding Time (Remix) is its use of sound, with A Band Called Quinn choosing to quash the visceral thrill of live music and shared experience through the use of silent disco technology. The effect is as disorientating as it is disarming, with the headphones offering a sense of detachment and isolation which mirrors that of Quinn’s experience of the music industry. But this is no silent disco.

Where the show falls down is in its promise of an “immersive audience experience”. Littered around the outskirts of an L-shaped catwalk stage, we are encouraged to walk around at will. Unfortunately, this only happened once, with an inquisitive spectator ambling over to the other side of Summerhall’s Dissection Room to get a closer look at something like a real one –  the giant white rabbit cooking Quinn’s beating heart on a camping stove.

Given its billing, both as an immersive piece and as a gig, not enough is done to encourage movement, dancing or otherwise, around the space. And it means that though this is memorable spectacle, it doesn’t quite achieve what it sets out to do.

Biding Time (Remix) is at Summerhall (Venue 26) until 23 August. For more information and tickets go to the Edinburgh Fringe website.