Review by Britt Davies
Had the pleasure of catching Kokoroko at the Powerstation, supported by local artist Romi Wrights and her full band. It was a sold-out show, but don’t let that fool you! There was plenty of space to move, and move we did.
Kokoroko, hailing from South London, are a seven-piece jazz-funk ensemble with Afrobeat roots and a sound that draws from high-life and beyond. Frontwomen Sheila Maurice-Grey and Setwun were mesmerising from the get go, swapping between trumpet, trombone and vocals with ease. Their energy carried the room and from early on the crowd were pretty mesmerised.
The band explained how they came together five years ago and before starting their album, really thought about what they wanted to put out into the world. They landed on something simple: joy. Seeing it was hump day and we had all dragged ourselves out knowing we had to get up in the morning, it was a welcomed feeling to realise this was going to be an evening of dancing and release, and a coming together of community. It just had that special feeling.
This show was the last of their tour, meaning the band were emotional and reflective. Each would take turns for full five-minute breaks between songs to talk about the process of making their second album Tuff Times Don’t Last. Not from a technical angle, but from a place of friendship and camaraderie. They spoke about the hardships they’d all faced over the past five years since their first album, and how creating this record became a kind of respite – a way to learn about each other, to be vulnerable, and support each other. Released on Gilles Peterson’s Brownswood label, the title captures the sense of unity that radiates from this group as they play together on stage.
Early in the set, their cover of Ebo Taylor’s Love and Death lit the fuse. From then on, the crowd was locked in with phones tucked away. At one point I looked around the venue and saw nothing but big smiles, everyone completely infatuated and present – pretty rare these days.
Musically, Kokoroko run a tight ship. Seven musicians, each giving space to the others, creating layered arrangements that feel both spontaneous and carefully crafted. Live versions of the album tracks stretched and shifted, giving room for solos and showcasing individual talent. If there’s one gripe, it’s that they didn’t play any older tracks – a bit of a sting for long-time fans.
Five years ago, Kokoroko set out to put joy into the world with their album and they absolutely achieved that with this show. One for the books!