The two of them let out great bellowing laughs of the kind that could effortlessly fill an auditorium. West, who famously went to Eton, wields a commandingly theatrical voice, of which he made inventive use in Butley. But even his extravagant vocal cords can seem thin and taut against Peters’s mellifluous bass, a genial but authoritative sound that you could imagine belonging to God if He had soul. Listening to the recording afterwards, my own voice, by comparison with these pair of profundos, sounds as if I’d been abusing helium.
I would rob a drug dealer to see this show. Indeed.