Whenever I write about how good Daniel Kitson is there is a comedian who always comments on it, as if I am prone to over-egging the Kitson cake. Well, I'm afraid that comic might as well stop reading this review – and this website – because I'm not sure if I am ever going to say something really bad about DK. Even a whiffy DK gig is going to tower over most other performances.

And this show, a benefit for the Hackney Winter Night Shelter, was far from whiffy, finding Kitson rolling back the years and compering in his own inimitable offensive/cherishable style – abusing men in the audience, mocking charity appeals and mocking Stewart Lee, who put the bill together. You know that joke about comedians being so good they could make reading out the phone book funny? Well Kitson picked the evening's raffle ticket winners – shades of Phoenix Nights – and made that absolutely, flipping hilarious. 

He also broke a cardinal rule of compering by doing more material after the closing act. So to have our revenge, BTJ will break a cardinal rule of reviewing and run through the acts before we discuss el maestro. Daniel's devotees will have to wait to discover why nobody in comedy has balls like Kitson. Or skip to the final paragraphs.

First up was Bridget Christie, on a roll after her Foster's Award win. She simply plucked the part of the prize-winning show in which she reflects on the assertion that one of the problems of feminism is that it is not funny. Nobody complained that Martin Luther King's I Have A Dream speech lacked zingers did they? It was a great start to the night albeit lacking spontaneity, although I think a brief pig-like snort at the end was accidental. It didn't get much of a laugh though so I doubt if Christie will keep it in. 

Next was Paul Sinha, the self-styled "UK's 14th ranked quizzer". He told a couple of perfectly executed stories about how, inspired by Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out For A Hero, he has shown bravery in public situations. Or not, in some cases. In one anecdote he had to face up to an Islamic extremist who wanted all comedy clubs closed down, in another he had to deal with some classic dicks on late night transport. Sinha painted pictures we could all recognise, built up the dramatic tension well, and had some brilliant pay-offs. He also tried to defend having a Tory partner, which, on reflection, is maybe the most heroic thing he has ever done. 

Final act of the first half was Ginger & Black. This oddball musical duo made a bit of a splash when they first arrived on the circuit, but they seem to have lost momentum in recent years. Their short set was politely rather than ecstatically received. Nor as whimsical as Flight of The Conchords, not as twee as David O'Doherty, not as satirical as Tim Minchin, their gags about the Great Fire of London, jogging and dates went down nicely rather than spectacularly.

One downer of the evening was the fact that David Baddiel had pulled out due to a back problem. But when Kitson introduced his replacement, Kevin Eldon, there was a relieved cheer. It is good to have Baddiel doing stand-up again, but his name sat slightly oddly in this bill. Without him it felt more balanced, more like we were watching a big stage version of Stewart Lee's Alternative Comedy Experience, minus the backstage interviews but with the added bonus of Kitson compering.

This might possibly be the first time I have ever seen Eldon appear live without him doing his over-earnest poet Paul Hamilton. Maybe it is a sign of his confidence after his BBC2 series that he feels he does not need to hide behind a character. Instead he did an wonderfully bonkers riff on his search for a good catchphrase as his original line "I've got no knees" had never really caught on. As his ideas got more and more outlandish, involving the transportation of blancmange and the decline of ashtrays in operating theatres, there was a hint of Pythonesque absurdism. And like a Python routine it was hard for Eldon to find a suitable ending. Shouting "Yeast Extract" was clearly as good as anything.

Without Baddiel it was left to Isy Suttie to close, recalling how as a child she wanted a pen pal in Australia but ended up with one two doors down her street in Matlock. She also had a very funny routine – clearly based on fact because we've all been there – about flatmates who have straddled the line between eccentric and insane. And she finished with a cute, lovely song in Welsh with a twist (she has been learning Welsh because that's where her boyfriend is from – if there are any gossip columnists out there, hold the front page, it's stand-up Elis James).

And then it should have been home time. Except that Kitson needed to finish off a story. He had started the evening by saying that he was rusty and that he was in the middle of writing a new show, but hadn't got anywhere because he was too busy texting, watching TV and playing on his laptop. But of course he didn't seem rusty at all. And he soon came up with some top-rate material about a recent hospital visit, explaining by way of an introduction, that "My left testicle is going to appear in a medical journal".

Kitson had recently felt a lump on his nutsack and had been concerned. I thought for the briefest of moments it was going to be a variant on the Jason Manford routine about a lump turning out to be a Coco Pop that had fallen into his pants. But this was a real lump and between the acts Kitson filled us in on the details of each successive examination.

It was, as he said, his typical "ramshackle breed of self-indulgence" but there is something about Kitson's charisma that enables him to get away with this. He even managed to get away with threatening to withhold a raffle prize because he didn't like the enthusiasm with which a winner declared they had the matching number. I suspect even the winner would have accepted that he didn't deserve the prize if Kitson had stuck to his word.

Anyway, the good news for comedy and for the women of Britain is that Kitson is absolutely fine. Though his testicles were so fascinatingly unique the experts want to make a special study of him. I guess you could say the same about his stand-up comedy. 

More information about the Hackney Winter Night shelter here.