Britpop Brotherhood Ocean Colour Scene and Kula Shaker set Manchester Apollo ablaze.

Paul Evans
Apr 16
4 min read

O2 Apollo Manchester 12th April 2025

WORDS AND IMAGES PAUL EVANS

Britpop Brotherhood Ocean Colour Scene and Kula Shaker set Manchester Apollo ablaze — Brooke Combe

Tonight isn’t just another night on the touring circuit. It’s a collision of two distinct but intertwined sounds from the golden 1960s and mid-‘90s Britpop, the soulful mod revival of Ocean Colour Scene and the psychedelic tinged mysticism of Kula Shaker. It’s a revival meeting, not just in the nostalgic sense of the word, but in the way a soul is stirred, shaken and shot back into life. From the first echoing chords of 303 to the final, euphoric sing-along of The Day We Caught the Train the evening carried with it the communal energy of a generation that lived through the highs of Cool Britannia and is now watching their kids discover these same songs via vinyl reissues and festival fields.

As the house lights dip low the Psychedelic ritual begins. A haze of blue and gold descended over the Apollo’s art deco interior, casting trippy shadows across the upper balconies. Out strolled Kula Shaker, fronted by the eternally enigmatic Crispian Mills, looking like he’d stepped straight out of a Ravi Shankar jam session in 1967. The band look similarly blissed out and battle-ready. Without much fanfare, they launch into 303, the thunderous opener from their debut album K. It’s a bold, distorted, eastern-tinged wall of sound. Mills’s guitar slicing through the smoke and psychedelic visuals like a sitar on steroids. A furious, kaleidoscopic swirl of riffs and feedback gives way to the chant-like chorus. The crowd still filtering in surge forward instinctively. Kula Shaker have landed and they aren’t here to warm up the room, they’re here to summon the gods.

Grateful When You're Dead / Jerry Was There follows, a near-10-minute, double-barrelled monster. The split personality of the song rendered in glorious technicolour thanks to some awe-inspiring psychedelic visuals. Grateful… is all choppy funk and psych groove, while Jerry… blooms into a meditative, meandering ode to the Grateful Dead’s beloved frontman. The crowd some wide-eyed, some already swaying in trance are utterly locked in and enjoying the ride. A cover of Python Lee Jackson’s classic, In a Broken Dream is an unexpected highlight. It’s full of bluesy melancholy. Mills's voice crackling just right on the chorus: "Don’t cry for me / In a broken dream..." It’s a stark contrast to the more cosmic material and the audience feels respectfully still. Tattva, transforms the hall as a thousand plus mouths sing or mouth “Acintya bheda bheda tattva!” like it was part of a football chant. The groove is unrelenting as the bass snakes beneath the melody like a cobra. For all its philosophical weight, “Tattva” is just a damn good tune and tonight, it is transcendent.

Hey Dude, is all fuzzed-out guitar heroism. Mills dancing around the stage possessed as the room shakes to the stomping rhythm. “Hey dude! Don’t lean on me, man!” ringing out like a warning and a rally cry. Hush, is a song Kula Shaker made their own in the ‘90s. Tonight, it roars and is ferocious, the Hammond Organ and guitar swirl around the Apollo like incense smoke. making the rafters quiver. The set closes with Govinda the Sanskrit-laden spiritual rock hymn. Its chant “Govinda Jaya Jaya” becomes a collective mantra as everyone around me sings. Under psychedelic, visuals projected across the stage, the band leave on a literal and metaphysical high. Wow.

There’s a crackling energy in the air as everyone is anticipating the headliners. A single spotlight catches Simon Fowler as he strolls onstage with quiet assurance, to rapturous cheers. Opening with The Circle the vibe is immediately different as Ocean Colour Scene go straight for the soul. Fowler’s voice has aged like whiskey, the lyrics, about disillusionment and faded dreams, hit harder than ever in 2025. Steve Cradock’s guitar begins to spit flames in I Just Need Myself. The crowd dance, punching the air, singing every word. Ocean Colour Scene have always had a knack for combining grit with melody and that gift is on full display tonight. Oscar Harrison’s drumming providing a swinging backbone while Fowler and Cradock weave guitar lines and harmonies effortlessly. It is the kind of tune that made them one of the era’s most loved bands.

Hundred-Mile-High City goes off like a Molotov cocktail. “I get a need and I'm wanting to please it, I gotta face and I'm wanting to feel it” Fowler screams and the Apollo explodes. Cradock, is in full mod god mode, hammering out the riff like it owes him money. Everyone is bouncing, dancing and singing. This could well be the best live song of the year for me, we’ll have to see. It’s a musical hurricane and spine tingling all at once amongst the euphoria in the crowd. Instantly, arms shoot into the air as the unmistakable intro to The Riverboat Song lifts the room. The stop-start blues riff is one of the defining sounds of the Britpop era, but tonight it feels even more potent. The pounding, hypnotic groove is tribal like a blues exorcism, soaked in attitude and that Cradock snarl.

So quickly it’s time. The Day We Caught the Train is the song that made Ocean Colour Scene immortal. The chords ring out, the cheers rise, the voice cracks with emotion and the Apollo becomes one voice, one memory, one moment. “Roll a number, write another song like Jimmy heard the day he caught the train”, “Ohh la la, ohh la la, Ohh la la, ohh la la” sing thousands. It’s jubilant, tear-jerking, euphoric. The song hasn’t aged, it’s grown and is still as potent today.

Tonight is a reminder that music, real music, lives. Bands like Ocean Colour Scene and Kula Shaker still matter, not just for what they were, but for what they are: living proof that sincerity, melody and a touch of spiritual fire and soul never go out of style. As the final echo of The Day We Caught the Train linger in the air, so too did a thought. Some songs, some bands, never really leave you.

No Setlists available.