It’s not every day you walk into the Cowley Workers’ Social Club to find yourself in someone else’s living room. Home From Home, a day-to-night community performance space that’s already made a name for itself in Truro, Cornwall, transformed the main stage for the night into a consciously kitschy hearth and home to welcome its many and varied lineup.

There’s a very ‘do as the spirit moves you’ attitude to the whole setup - cushions spread across the dancefloor with audience members coming and going as they please, dress-up boxes and rails of costumes for patrons to play around with, and regular open mic spots between named acts for anyone brave enough to share their craft. All emceed with infectious enthusiasm by Home from Home creative director Ray (who also provided some slick guitar and soulful vocals in the latter half), the laid-back, indoor festival format feels, above all else, like a gathering of friends. Those with a dinner ticket could also enjoy a hearty helping of Thai flavours courtesy of Shakti Kitchen, which we were encouraged to use as a chance to build new connections. The £20 extra for the meal could be a little steep for some, but the extremely reasonable prices behind the bar (£5 for espresso martinis on tap!) certainly help to lessen that sting.

I wasn’t able to be there from the start (though with a runtime from 2pm to midnight you certainly get your money’s worth!) but even arriving from 6, there was still a steady stream of acts to keep the energy going. The earlier sections leaned heavier towards performance art or interpretive movement, with somewhat mixed results. While I enjoyed the instrumentation and poetry segments from Radical Compost, their earlier satirical segment was delivered with a very ‘have we blown your mind’ self-satisfaction for what were quite generic ‘corporations bad, Musk greedy’ observations. There’s a thing a comedy pal of mine calls ‘worthy claps’, where audience applause is based more on agreeing with the sentiment than the material actually being well-constructed - no one in that room is going to disagree that corporate exploitation is killing the planet, but using ‘She-lon Musk’ as your instrument to deliver that is still a misfire.

Playing their first-ever gig, Mazawattee kept up the momentum heading into the night with some lyrical and introspective indie-rock, their tight coordination and emotionality belying their newcomer status. We were also treated to some banger tracks from No Worries If Not; previous Musical Comedy Award semi-finalists, the duo’s clubby pastiches are distinctly post-brat in their sound, stylish, synthy and irrepressibly silly. Special standouts include ‘Trophy Wife’, a life-goal vocalist Abbie takes extremely literally to the point of stripping down to a full gold bodysuit, and ‘I’m a Catch’, a refreshingly absurdist spin on dating app back and forths which showcases their strongest lyricism (“I am an Olympian but only in shaggin’/ I don’t do drugs but I always get a bag in”). Normally comics using dating app material would be an eye-roller, but No Worries if Not presents it in a way that feels genuinely original.

The open mic was a riot of styles and subject matter, from raucous 4 Non Blondes covers to Irish folk to slam poetry to a spirited rendition of Dana Lyons ‘Cows With Guns’. I can’t say everything hit, but there was always a tone of encouragement, support and collaboration, which led beautifully into the inaugural Jamie Mykaela and Friends variety segment.

I’ve reviewed Mykaela’s work before, and one thing you will always notice in her shows is her ability to pair high-vintage glamour with a distinctly modern irreverence and grit. Draped in a pink tulle curtain-tassel boa (with matching manicure) she and accompanist J. Henry gave Sabrina Carpenter’s ‘Espresso’ the Peggy Lee treatment with total commitment and a red-hot kazoo. And the Friends in question kept that standard going, with sweet and earnest observational stylings from Sav Sood; artful bafflement from walking bacteria Cameron Sinclair-Harris; a hilarious account of the history of the cigarette - and its inventor, Susan Cigarette - from Jamie Byrne; and closing the segment on a high, Marc Burrows dissecting the finer points of being a “queer, bisexual, polyamorous vegan journalist - or c**t” - as someone that falls into a good four fifths of those categories, ouch. After the more wholesome daytime segments, there’s a cheekiness to proceedings like tuning into late night TV when you were younger after you were supposed to have gone to bed - I would happily stay up past midnight to catch this again.

And we finish with the Balkan Wanderers, their six piece whirlwind of Eastern European folk and punk influences quickly filling the dancefloor. For an event centred on finding community in unfamiliar spaces, it feels fitting to close the night with people on their feet, listening to a language that may not be their own yet still finding connection with it in body and spirit. If Home from Home becomes a regular Oxford fixture - and I hope it does - I can see it becoming a haven for local community performance groups with the same spirit of collaboration. I’d actively encourage any art or performance collectives in the city to get in touch for future shows; it would be great to see, for instance, YWMP, Cowley Climate Collective or Fusion Arts featured in the space, as the event settles into its Oxford incarnation. One thing’s for sure though - I’m glad it’s found a home here.