Adam Hills: The stand-up who puts his foot in it

His themes may shock - 11 September and having one foot - but if anyone can carry it off, it's Adam Hills

Adam Hills has a reputation as one of the most reliable tickets on the Fringe. It's easy to see why. The Australian stand-up's rapport with his audience is unmatched. For instance, a couple of years ago, his show included a neat sketch in which he invited four male members of the crowd on-stage to help him form an instant boy- band. Despite describing one unfortunate, solely on the evidence of a few ill-judged dance moves, as the member of the line-up "most likely to come out unexpectedly", he did not quail when he later realised he'd got a laugh by insulting one of the judges of that year's Perrier award. Hills later bought him off with a pint, but not before persuading the poor sod to remove his shirt and pose as a drummer.

Last year's Go You Big Red Fire Engine, its title inspired by a truly incomprehensible heckle, had Hills asking people to use the phrase wherever they could. So far, it has turned up in a Detroit newspaper, with absolutely no context offered for bemused readers, and, magnificently, during a debate in the Australian parliament, presumably recorded forever by the antipodean equivalent of Hansard. ("I'm very happy with that," he says.)

Though, he concedes, "it takes a lot of effort to look relaxed", he takes his job very seriously indeed, prepared to discuss comedy with those similarly besotted until dawn (or closing time, which is pretty much the same thing during the festival). This year's show, Happy Feet, raised eyebrows when initial publicity suggested that it consisted of a discussion of two unlikely themes – the atrocities of 11 September, and Hills' own experiences of growing up with only one foot.

In fact, it succeeds in involving the two themes, and not in a maudlin or tasteless way. Having faced increased airport security, and its concomitant, having to explain oneself regularly to those staffing metal detectors, Hills finally feels comfortable about sharing something that has never proved an issue to him, physically or emotionally. (He was once employed as a tennis coach, which was apparently fine, "once you'd got used to kids shouting, 'Hey, mister, what happened to your foot?'.")

"For me, it's normal, but I've realised that for other people it's not, and for some, it's off-putting," he says. "It's strange talking about 11 September for 20 minutes, then telling the audience, 'By the way, I've got one foot'. They're going, 'We were comfortable with 11/9. Can't you talk about that?'." Let's hope they didn't think that he left it at Ground Zero...

But he knows that it's only an issue if he chooses to mention it. "In a way, Francesca [fellow- comic Francesca Martinez, born with cerebral palsy] has to address it. But with me, it's hidden. The audience don't need to know. My mum told me jokes to make me feel better about it, and in a way, that's what I'm trying to do," he explains. His mother also kept his feet as he grew out of them, a 3-D photo album you can see for yourself during his slot. At a recent show, a one-legged man told him that his mother had a similar collection. "I didn't know other mums did that."

However personal his new material is, he's quite aware how people will take it. "As a comedy anorak, I have ideas about what I'd like people to take from this show, but at the end of the day, it's just me chatting for an hour."

Hills is perfectly self-aware, then. His own heroes are stand-ups – Billy Connolly, Bill Hicks, Steve Martin (before stadium madness then Hollywood beckoned) – and he studies the form rigorously. "If the punters can see how hard you've worked on a show, you haven't worked hard enough," he says, before offering his friend Ross Noble's gnomic maxim: "The secret is to care so much about doing a good show that you don't give a fuck." He puts his famous composure down to practice. "The thing is, I do feel relaxed on stage. I've been doing it for 13 years, five or six times a week," he says. More problematic is his next move. "When I've talked about my foot, where do I go next? That was the ace up my sleeve."

'Adam Hills – Happy Feet': Pleasance Courtyard and Over the Road (Venue 33), 21.30 (1hr), to 26 August (0131-556 6650)