Richard Ashcroft at Kew the Music

After a heartfelt performance by Liverpool-born singer Jamie Webster, it’s not a long wait before the main event. After all, tardiness is not allowed today – especially today. The frontman of The Verve and two-time Ivor Novello winner (Songwriter of the Year and Outstanding Contribution to British Music) strolls on stage sporting his signature bucket hat and sunglasses. Ashcroft has an inside-out knowledge of his crowd, and a particular knack for giving them what they want while never entirely bending to their will; he keeps his ground, speaks his mind, tells anecdotes that range from the comic to the melancholic. He is funny, charming and unapologetically himself. His voice, also, has aged beautifully, with his vocals made more powerful by the decades of experience and life lived. 

The idyllic backdrop of Kew Gardens creates a beautiful contrast with the gritty urban landscape that the name “Richard Ashcroft” might conjure up. Despite the vastness of the venue, the concert has an intimate feel. It is a peculiar day to be performing: tension is high due to the impending football match, and perhaps one of the reasons why the audience is not as big as it could have been (Ashcroft and his team had tried to get it screened). The ones who did show up, however, are not messing around: they are eager to sing their hearts out, loudly proclaim their love for the singer, and let themselves go as Steve Wyreman’s guitar spits out fire, adding energetic rock to a dynamic – albeit fairly short – set.

The concert starts with Space and Time, from The Verve’s 1997 album Urban Hymns, the appetiser of a nostalgia-filled set, which seems to satiate the appetite of a nostalgia-seeking crowd. An energetic and powerful performance of Music Is Power, which ends with Ashcroft on the floor, firing up Wireman’s already fired-up guitar, is followed by some fan favourites, including Break the Night with Colour, the deeply melancholic and always poignant The Drugs Don’t Work and Lucky Man. The latter is preceded by a lovely dedication to his wife: “I am a lucky man,” he says, candidly showing this vulnerable side. When Ashcroft announces that he’s about to play On Your Own, a member of the audience lets out a shriek, smiles of understanding forming around them, before tears start flowing.

The night ends the only way it could possibly end, with one of the most era-defining song of all times: Bitter Sweet Symphony. Far from the busy pavements of Hoxton, Ashcroft performs it with the same dedication and energy. He should be tired of it, especially after the long dispute over the song’s rights, but he seems to recognise how much it has shaped Britpop, and how much it means to many.

On a day that will be remembered for more than one reason, this icon of Britpop brings his devoted fans back to an era of optimistic hedonism, late-night chats and existential crises followed by shoulder-shrugging and glasses raised to the sky.

Benedetta Mancusi
Photos: Virginie Viche

For further information and future events visit Richard Ashcroft’s website here.

Watch the video for the single Bitter Sweet Symphony here: