Live Review: Kojey Radical at the Royal Albert Hall – A Celebration of Continuation and Collaboration

Among venues worldwide, there are very few as culturally important as The Royal Albert Hall. It’s a staple of artists’ careers, with everyone from Bob Dylan to Beyoncé landing on its esteemed stage before a domed audience. However, it’s only recently become a real destination for British rap culture and the diaspora. With Loyle Carner recording a live album there in 2023 and a recent Ghana Independence Day celebration headlined by Rapperholic, the door has been kicked down for the UK culture to write their names on the walls. 

The latest of these, and tonight’s headliner, is cultural connector and UK collaborator Kojey Radical, bringing his brand of funked-out, energised rap to the stage. With support from Jaz Karis, the night promised to be another benchmark for the UK scene.

Opening proceedings with the boom-bap of ‘SUNSET BLVD’, Karis’ vocals immediately hit your ears: evoking SZA. With just her and Alex Blake, winning over the Albert Hall is no easy task. From the stuttered Pharrell 4-beat of ‘Side of You’ to the soft-keyed ‘Petty Lover’, Karis got the room locked with tracks new and old, broaching friendship breakups (‘Life Isn’t Fair’) and being the jealous ex (‘Good To Me’). Karis’ voice and stage presence were impressive enough to demand participation across a generous opening 40 minutes, if slightly too downtempo for what was to come. 

Lights dimming on a crowd swarmed with Arsenal shirts, Kojey’s live band took to the stage – the speakers blare ‘you’re probably scared of falling… Don’t look down.’ Kojey lands – from the funk-driven ‘Rotation’ to the soulful sustaining of ‘Silk’, he commands audience attention, blending tracks so perfectly you hardly know where they begin and end. While hardly giving the crowd a moment to breathe, the relentless approach gets too much for Kojey, who only stops to shout ‘campeonessss’ to the Arsenal fans.

‘Buss me the cheat sheet… damn it already’, he announces after moving so quickly through ‘Pressure’ and ‘Fubu’ you’d barely notice if he didn’t sit on the edge of the stage for lyrics of ‘heavy is the crown, and I’ll wear it till I die.’ Finding his bearings again, the afropop syncopation of ‘Born’ welcomes the first of many guests into the evening in Cashh. Not content with just 40 minutes, Jaz Karis comes back to help with the lyrics of ‘I cared just enough to be let down by you’ on ‘Comfortable.’ 

With a list of collaborations longer than most people’s wedding invites, there’s a tangible sense that anyone could be ready to jump through the door at the top of the stage at any given moment. Kojey’s presence throughout, too, is boundless and formidable, forcing audiences to sing hooks and act as another guest – at least before James Vickery joins for the chorus of the unsettled tension of ‘On Call.’ 

Confidently jumping from his singularly husky rap to R&B, he hands over the keys on the stripped-back ‘Beautiful’ to Shakka on the chorus. Earning the loudest reception yet, the legendary Wretch 32 joins for his verse,  emphasising the feeling that anything could happen. It really feels like half of London was sat waiting backstage. While this approach threatens to undersell his solo tracks, the Timbaland-style ‘Cashmere Tears’ and the piano-kick joy of ‘Can’t Go Back’ earn sing-alongs.

After a brief break to change outfits, Kojey returned to grace the stage. He and DJ Eli run through the flute-trap of ’97’ with Kojey offering ‘we’ve played some crusty rooms… some crusty places’ met with Eli’s reply: ‘and now we’re here.’  There’s a clear sense of brotherly love between the two. ‘Nappy’ became a surprising highlight with wheelups into beat changes of the notorious ‘rhythm & gash’ beat to ‘Thiago Silva’. Not content with bringing half their scene to the Albert Hall, this moment honours the lineage that led them here.

With shouts of ‘when I say Kojey…’, there’s barely a moment to breathe before Ezra Collective land on stage for the genre-smashing Tony Allen-owed groove of ‘No Confusion.’ In one moment, the room is full of people up and dancing – turning it into something joyous. While it seems impossible to build from here, his band returns as he states, ‘I’ve had many tracks on FIFA, but this one gets me gassed every time’ before the gospel-via-disco beat of ‘Conversation’ bounds in. Remarkably, his band compete with Ezra Collective’s prior relentlessness.

‘When the whistles drop, you’ll know this one… Free Palestine’ is met with raptures as the heavy-beat introspection of ‘War Outside’ cues another guest in Lex Amor. Not content to stop there, another head-nodding FIFA classic ‘Water’ is an excuse for Mahalia to lend her luscious voice to proceedings. 

With a candid speech on ‘wanting to give us as much music as he can’, there’s a feeling in the crowd that he already has. Entering a final third that cannot match the breakneck energy of what’s come before it, he admits, ‘I might never do it again’, which adds a sombreness to the proceedings. While pensive, there’s a restlessness to a riled-up audience that feels like an emergency brake has been placed on proceedings – especially when he uses a story of fatherhood to express support for the recently imprisoned Ghetts. 

Mercifully, the ode to parenthood leads to the gospel bounce of ‘Gangsta’, shouting out his mother in attendance. Claiming ‘this is the final one’ signals maybe the briefest wait for an encore I’ve experienced, as ‘Payback’ swaggers in. A natural big energy conclusion, it’s a bouncy, G-funk celebration of excellence. Pulling double duty on verses with no appearance from Knucks, he bowls into the crowd to celebrate with the people who have made this journey possible. 

While Kojey’s willingness to share the spotlight with collaborators threatened to dilute the impact of his show, it ended up becoming the show’s greatest strength. Make no mistake – the night was a celebration of UK rap culture as a whole, not just the headliner. 

Despite some shaky moments of reflection in its final stretch not quite landing, Kojey Radical delivered something closer to a festival slot. At his strongest, he feels like the UK’s answer to A$AP Rocky: a performer as much as curator, dedicated to sharing the spotlight with every creative partner in attendance. 

His biggest ‘I’ve Made It’ moment at the Royal Albert Hall was an imperfect, communal run-through of the last 10 years of a scene that just keeps thriving. 

Words by Keir Shields