Instead of the slow builds favoured by many instrumental groups, especially in the jazz world, Sons of Kemet often just launch into the maelstrom from the get-go, then somehow manage to maintain such intensity for the subsequent five minutes or so. It makes for a fascinating performance, one which moves from peak to peak seamlessly.
Bandleader Shabaka Hutchings is simply formidable on saxophone – he can do shrieking, melodic or intricate as the moment demands, and in rarely less than virtuosic manner. In its aggressive extremes, it could herald the coming apocalypse, an impression which is helped by Theon Cross’ plodding low notes on the tuba. Cross is often used as the bass for many songs, but he can let loose a squealing solo with the best of them, as he ably demonstrates during his solo.
My Queen is Albertina Sisulu comes at us early in set, and much speedier than in the recorded version. This and My Queen is Ada Eastman and My Queen is Harriet Tubman get some of the biggest reactions of the night; the crowd trying their best to keep up with players, with mixed results.
Things are slowed down by newer songs like the tropical Hustle, or atmospheric In Remembrance of Those Fallen, as well as a lengthy flute solo from Hutchings. These are necessary moments of respite between the usual frenzy. Having two drummers (Tom Skinner, Edward Wakili-Hick) means that even a meandering bridge takes on an urgent feeling, but it also emphasises just how in-sync this outfit is.
It says a lot about the state of UK jazz that an instrumental quartet of (mostly) sax, tuba and drums can pack out 1000+ capacity venues with ease. They manage to unite disparate groups like swaying hipsters/jazzheads, grinding couples acting like the DJ just dropped their song, as well as the party crowd who look more ready for a rave than a jazz night.
This may well prove to be Sons of Kemet’s final UK show, but it’s safe to say they’ve left UK jazz in a better place than when the found it 10 years ago, and their influence is a large reason for that.