I went to see Oasis at the old Wembley stadium in July 2000. I was fifteen-years-old and my old pal Graham and I would often spend weekends seeking out obscure bootleg interview discs, posters and elusive singles across South Essex. Remember, those were the days when you couldn’t just pull up ‘Round Are Way’ (sidenote: even then I hated that spelling!) or ‘The Masterplan’ on your phone. If you had one of those, it was almost solely for playing snake. Shops like HMV, Virgin, and Our Price might have had one or two singles if you were lucky, but you had to really seek out the rest. You’d hear a rumour going around at school that Adrian’s in Wickford had a copy of ‘Whatever’ and that would be Saturday sorted. Anyway, Graham and I were so excited to be seeing them at Wembley. History will tell you that it was a good gig, immortalized by the Familiar to Millions live album, but actually the night of the two shows that we saw very much wasn’t. The night we were at was the one where Liam was completely shitfaced from the moment he stepped out on stage. It was an embarrassment for everyone involved. I’m telling you this because the one good thing about that day that really stuck with me was hearing some bloke blasting out ‘Hey Dude’ on a boombox outside the stadium as we were waiting to go in. I remember thinking what is that? and how on the way home all I could think about (apart from how let down I was about the abysmal show we’d just seen) was how that song had seemed to have like three different choruses and each one had been better than the one that came before.

Now, of course, you’re not supposed to like Kula Shaker, let alone love them, but that day a good twenty-five years ago really started something for me. I was so disappointed when gradually it became clear that they had already split up, although it didn’t stop me from becoming obsessed by the absolutely mental Peasants, Pigs & Astronauts and from seeking out every single thing I could get my hands on. Fast forward a few years and I couldn’t believe it when they were back together, and I was totally there for it. I remember being at the ICA around the release of Strangefolk, then the Relentless Garage for the release of Pilgrims Progress, and I honestly don’t know how many shows after that. Thinking back today, even the first time I held my son was in a Kula t-shirt. Since reforming they’ve released a string of records that slowly but surely, somehow, have built momentum and culminated in the unthinkable scenario where they appear to be growing in popularity. Sure, they’re still the punchline to jokes by everyone lazy enough to make them, but not to me. All of this goes to say that I have something of an inherent bias whenever they put something out. 

In all honesty, when Jay Darlington rejoined the band for 2024’s Natural Magick I found myself feeling a little underwhelmed by the record. After their last one – the preposterously-titled 1st Congregational Church of Eternal Love and Free Hugs – it felt like a real step back to me. Still good, don’t get me wrong, and still something that I’m glad exists, but very 1996. Church had gone all-in on late-1960s Kinks and felt exciting and unapologetic, whereas Magick felt to me like playing it safe. Now, I’m more than aware that notions of ‘a step back’ and ‘playing it safe’ seem a little rich given that their whole ethos is that they’re essentially a revival act, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I’m kind of getting back to the point here. When the singles started arriving for the new record, Wormslayer, I found myself back in the same place. First ‘Charge of the Light Brigade’, then ‘Broke As Folk’, and ‘Good Money’ – all of them instantly sounding like the band, but not inspiring a huge amount of confidence. My expectations were waning a little.

Having listened through the new record several times over the last couple of days, I have to backtrack and say that I was wrong to set my expectations lower. Just like Natural Magick, it very much feels like the band that made K all those years ago… but, y’know, it is the band that made it. In such uncertain and stressful times I guess it’s good to have something so good, and so reassuring and familiar, to return to. Those singles that I said were underwhelming on first listen totally work in the context of the record too, revealing subtle textures on repeated listens that I didn’t pick up on in isolation. Sure, there are some naff lines that you can see coming from a mile off here and there, and some flourishes that feel less ‘familiar’ than ‘full-on carbon copies’ of parts of previous tracks from across their 30-year career, but it’s a lot of fun. As bemused as I was by the title at first, and as modest as my expectations were, I have to admit that Wormslayer is a triumph. I challenge anyone listening to the title track in particular not to break out into a huge grin the moment that Crispian’s guitar hits that riff.

So, all in all, in the same way that Strangefolk paved the way for the excellent Pilgrims Progress, I can now see that Natural Magick laid the groundwork for this one. I was wrong to doubt. Here’s hoping that album number nine follows.