There’s a difference between being billed as a support act and a special guest. Kula Shaker, with their established reputation and singular style, made it clear they were the latter.
From the moment the stage went black and mystical music swirled through the venue—the eerie, hypnotic prelude to “Radhe Radhe”—anticipation was electric. And when they unexpectedly launched into the galvanising classic “303,” the crowd was instantly under their spell.


Their set was a rich tapestry woven from the staples of their iconic debut K but also peppered with surprises. Their soulful take on Python Lee Jackson’s “In a Broken Dream” was a standout, combining Nina Simone’s brooding gravitas with Kula Shaker’s signature ’60s psych-rock shimmer. Two brand new songs—“Charge of the Light Brigade” and “Broke as Folk”—showcased their enduring inventiveness, blending Beatlesque pop, Steely Dan-style sophistication, and the mystic psychedelia they’re known for.

At 52, Crispian Mills performed with the lithe agility of a man half his age—sometimes evoking the fluidity and charisma of Michael Jackson’s Motown 25 appearance. But more than a rock frontman, Mills exuded the energy of a spiritual guide, elevating Brixton with the transcendental closer “Govinda.”
In contrast to the theatricality of Kula Shaker, Ocean Colour Scene’s entrance was almost disarmingly casual. No dramatic lighting or fanfare—just the six-piece strolling onstage and diving straight into “The Circle,” to a roar of applause. It wasn’t until the tenth song, “Profit in Peace,” that frontman Simon Fowler addressed the crowd, inviting everyone to “sing along with us as the lunatics have taken over the asylum.” The response was euphoric.

Momentum surged as they powered into the explosive “Hundred Mile High City,” with its infectious high-BPM guitar work. Fowler later paid tribute to Sandy Denny with a heartfelt dedication of “She’s Been Writing,” and sparked a wave of nostalgia with a few lines of Oasis’ “Live Forever” at the close of “Get Away.” The mood soared even higher with a harmonica-led “Traveller’s Tune,” the penultimate song before the encore.

The bond between Ocean Colour Scene and their fans was palpable. The audience’s raucous reactions to deeper cuts like “Robin Hood” and “Mrs Jones” underscored that this wasn’t just a celebration of hits but a reunion of hearts and history. While they didn’t share the stage with Kula Shaker, their appreciation for the band was genuine. They even tactfully ignored Mills’ humorous mix-up on the day of the week. Of course, they ended with the only song that could close such a night: “The Day We Caught the Train.”

As fans filtered out of Brixton Academy, their collective chants of “Oh-oh la-la” rang joyously into the night—despite polite reminders to keep noise to a minimum. And though some left frustrated at being stopped from standing in the aisles, the overwhelming emotion was one of catharsis. Two legendary bands, three decades of music, and one unforgettable night—this was a true celebration of live music’s enduring power.
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