Keep The Kula

Once upon a time; long, long, long ago. There existed a land called Britpop. This was an innocent place; a place that excited before terrorist outrages, war in Iraq and Big Brother. A place where Rock’n’Roll was about living for the moment. One group, however, stood out amidst this boozy bacchanal. Emerging in spring 1996; Kula Shaker were strict vegetarians, discussed Arthurian legend in interviews and, when the fancy took them, wrote top five singles in Sanskrit.

After two albums of impeccable progressive pop–boasting themes ranging from global meltdown to Orwellian paranoia – on 11th August 1999 they vanished as quickly as they arrived. “It was getting closure to the eve of the Millennium”, explains Crispian Mills. “At this stage, all the innocence and optimism which we’d started with had been sucked out of us by the process. We went through so many hassles with managers and labels you wouldn’t believe. We played a festival in Cornwall to coincide with the full solar eclipse and splitting up just seemed like the appropriate thing to do.”

As with most bands that’ve played a hand at pop’s high table, a lengthy cooling off period was necessary. In their absence, a host of new groups emerged, inspired either by their love of William Blake (The Libertines), acid rock (Wolfmother) or Boys Own sci-fi (Muse). It wasn’t until last year, however, when Crispian asked original members Alonza Bevan (bass) and Paul Winter-Hart (drums) to try out a song he was working on, that they found themselves back in the same room together. Against the odds, the old magic was still there.

“We recorded a fully blown Hindi song for a charity record. The music just lifted all the poison out. There was still so much energy between the three of us. It’s going to be ten years this year since ‘K’ came out, so we decided It was as good a time as ever to get back together.”

Recruiting keyboard maestro Harry B. Broadbent to complete the line up (original organist Jay Darlington deciding to keep his night-job with Oasis) the band set about rekindling their musical fire. Having tested the water with the ‘Revenge Of the King’ E.P (recorded in “a shed in New Malden; it was very Terry’n’June”) Kula Shaker played their first gig for seven years just before Christmas last year.

“We wanted somewhere off the radar so we got a gig under another name, in this tiny tiny pub as the in Leighton Buzzard we’d once played many years ago. “laughs Crispian. “Somebody must have told them who we were, cos there was literally a sandwich board outside with ’Kula Shaker- live tonite’ written on it. Hysterical. “It couldn’t have been more perfect if we’d staged it. We were all in fancy dress and the audience went bonkers.”

To ensure no one mistook this new adventure for an Electra glide down Memory Lane, the band set to work on their third album. As they had always planned, it would be called ‘Strangefolk’. “The recording process wasn’t easy. There were a few things which threw a Spaniard in the works. But we’ve still got the same beliefs and love of music we always had. For me, song writing is still about storytelling, and Kula Shaker have always been very cinematic.

Lyrically, “Strangefolk” sees Crispian return with an older, wiser head. If the proclamations of ‘K’ and ‘Peasants, Pigs And Astronauts’ were songs of innocence, these are undoubtedly songs of experience.

“There were a few things I wanted to get off my chest” he continues. “I think rock & roll has failed to really comment on the war. It’s staggering, so much going on and yet so little to say about it. Seems like there’s a real complacency in the air.”

Accordingly, “Strangefolk” delivers a lacerating assault on Blairaq (“To Die For Love”) a storming swamp-blues addressing Katrina and her waves (“Hurricane Season”) and in post-millennial mantra “Song Of Love/Narayan”, an epic to rival Ben Hur. Those fearing the band have lost their sense of mischief should head for “Great Dictator Of The Free World”, a song delivered from the perspective of George Bush, climaxing with the line “I want to make love in Guantanamo!” If there are flashes of Freakbeat, Ragtime, Chicago Blues, acid rock and mediaeval harmonies along the way, that’s because those are the forms of music the band love. They’re old fashioned like that. For Crispian, it sees the band coming full circle since those dark days of ’99.

“We are living in exciting and terrifying times, but it feels right to be back. We’ve missed being here, and hopefully people have missed us too.”

Missed them? A Rock’n’Roll band who look great, have tunes to spare and would rather sing about the state of the planet than the state of their wardrobe? They’re just in the nick of time. Watch the skies-Kula Shaker are overhead.