Bands often talk loftily about creating worlds, usually in an effort to elevate a handful of tunes into something greater. Some outfits, though, achieve something close to that aim. Damon Albarn’s Gorillaz – the erstwhile virtual band – are just one who spread out into other forms, providing multiple entry points into their output; not only songs, but cartoon-caper side narratives and fruitful vocal collaborations with unexpected artists.
Jungle have studied Gorillaz’s moves, both musical and extracurricular. Begun a decade ago as a two-man bedroom outfit in west London that deployed samples, grooves and the twin falsettos of Tom McFarland and Josh Lloyd-Watson, Jungle have blossomed into one of the UK’s best-loved purveyors of diffuse good times.
Their fourth album, Volcano (2023), helped them win the Brit award for best British group earlier this year; after last year’s festival headline performance at All Points East, they are now touring arenas with a plush set that spans their very first hit, the excellent Busy Earnin’ (2014), 2021’s ubiquitous motivational Peloton sync, Keep Moving, and a flurry of more recent disco-flecked retro bangers. With only a few pauses, it all plays out as a silken mix, keeping the sold-out crowd in happy shuffle mode throughout.
From the start of their career, McFarland and Lloyd-Watson eschewed the spotlight, even obscuring their identities. They wanted the music to do the talking; to build something bigger than themselves. Moreover, they swiftly hit upon fluid, one-take videos in which dancers – a remarkably consistent troupe – effectively fronted the band’s visual presence. The choreography provided narratives – and personalities, like regular featured dancers Will West and Mette Linturi – that the band’s tastefully appointed soundbeds sometimes lacked.
Last year, their soulful retro bop Back on 74 was all over TikTok, its smooth moves translating into a dance challenge taken up by, among others, Kim Tae-hyung, AKA V from BTS, and the casts of Hamilton and West Side Story. There’s also a 50-minute Volcano film that compiles the videos into a meta-narrative.
McFarland (shorter hair) and Lloyd-Watson (longer hair) preferred being backroom-style operators, but didn’t want to be yet another pair of guys on laptops. They resolved to play live, with instruments, and began inviting guest vocalists on to their albums.
Jungle are now an eight-piece live act seemingly designed for halcyon festival evenings where a hot day segues into a warm and fuzzy night. One collaborator, the multi-instrumentalist and producer Lydia Kitto, has since been promoted to permanent member; she plays a mean flute loop on Us Against the World. Having begun as a sample-heavy proposition, like the Avalanches but with a funkier bent, all of Volcano’s “samples” – bar two, including one from Gloria Ann Taylor’s How Can You Say It, on Dominoes – were actually original passages of music.
This enjoyable night out finds Jungle leaning hard into these more organic, less extracurricular aspect of what they do. The band are silhouettes arrayed across the stage, happily overshadowed by an impressive light show glowing 70s orange, halogen white and egg yolk yellow. They recently unveiled a new, post-Volcano track, the sweet-natured love song Let’s Go Back. Tonight, another joins it: the live premiere of Keep Me Satisfied, one more dreamy, soulful cut whose title was apparently hinted at in the video for Let’s Go Back.
Jungle’s Brit awards performance of Back on 74 featured some of their dancers. But the troupe is notably absent from their live shows – down to logistics and expense, no doubt. The band aren’t signed to a major label with deep pockets; they founded their own imprint, Caiola, leaving XL after 2018’s For Ever.
So as pleasurable as Jungle’s crate-digger music is – and nothing they do tonight hits a bum note; even their merch football shirts are cleverly designed – the absence of the act’s lithe-limbed avatars is a disappointment, like a puzzle with a piece missing. Movement is a major part of Jungle’s story; their commitment to videography is another aspect unaccounted for tonight, in favour of just playing the songs. It’s down to Kitto to effectively front the band – even standing at the front of the stage from time to time.
So, no top spin. Missing, as well, are the guest vocalists that increasingly crop up on Jungle’s records. Rapper Erick the Architect – that’s him on Candle Flame – and club hip-hop purveyor Channel Tres – on the excellent I’ve Been in Love – are both Stateside operators with careers of their own and appear, understandably, in larger-than-life video form.
But one of the coolest things Jungle do, and one of the most Gorillaz-like, is spotlight good, more obscure rappers. It’s a shame there is no live role here for the venerable UK MC Roots Manuva, ushered out of retirement on Volcano for one of Jungle’s very few more pointed songs, You Ain’t No Celebrity. It glides by tonight with his input projected as words instead of images, much less an appearance in the flesh. There’s no questioning that Jungle bring a party, but this show remains merely a good gig, rather than anything more ambitious, creatively risk-taking or three-dimensional.
