In the late '70s a regular at a certain (at the time) hardcore traddy club balanced a bodhran between the two bar stools which constituted the sum of on-stage furniture, placed a metronome on top, started it, and proceeded to sing "My Grandfather's Clock" to a somewhat bemused audience.

He got away with it, but the faces among t'committee were a sight to behold. I have a feeling they were so surprised that the power of speech was briefly lost.