“Arguably, it’s album of the year,” Kojey Radical pondered, taking a moment to reflect on 2022’s Reason To Smile midway through his headline show at Brixton’s O2 Academy. “Who’s to say?” The Hoxton-raised rapper, fashion grad, and spoken-word poet took a moment to look around the stage, catching his bandmates’ eyes with a smirk before drawing his own self-assured conclusion. “Me”.
To be fair, the artist’s long-awaited debut album – released a full eight years after his first project Dear Daisy: Opium – is certainly up there. A rich blending together of spiky horns, viscous, velvety slow burners, and soulful, experimental hip-hop, Reason To Smile would’ve surely been a shoo-in for victory at this year’s Mercury Prize were it not for a couple of exceptional records – including the latest from eventual winner Little Simz – being eligible from 2021.
Many of the punters at tonight’s hometown show had been hanging onto their tickets since Kojey Radical’s cancelled gig at The Roundhouse last year, which, like so many others, fell victim to the pandemic. And dressed to the nines for the night in a pristine white suit, the rapper rose to the long-overdue occasion, bringing out a procession of his collaborators – including Cashh, Che Lingo and Lex Amor – at various points in the night.
In an expertly-paced set, the artist shifted from the celebratory Silk (“Someone said I’m underrated, that was news to me,” he raps, “’Cause the fam’ eat good and sleep beautifully”) to the ominous whistle of War Outside, visiting the funk-laden title track of 2019’s Cashmere Tears and 2018’s cavernous Dark Days en route. And though the Knucks-featuring Payback and 2020 were both high-energy highlights, Kojey was equally compelling in quieter, more introspective moments.
The spoken-word interludes that pepper Reason to Smile – many provided by the rapper’s mother – were absent from the stage production, but her presence was felt anyway, with Kojey pointing her out in the audience. Elsewhere, he took a seat on the edge of the stage to reflect on his experiences of living with depression, and spoke directly to the room with feeling. “You are not alone,” he told the crowd in a rare moment of hush. Pressure – a cautionary tale about the trappings of fame – was preceded by another candid admission: “This is a true story”.
As the mood shifted from contemplation to sheer combustion, Kojey’s showmanship was a constant – away from the mic, he noodled away on an air-guitar, performed nimble pirouettes and high-kicks, and basked in the richly interwoven instrumentals of his live band. “I’m really just trying to take this moment in,” he admitted. He’s right to take stock; the milestone moments will likely keep on coming thick and fast.
