Let me paint you a picture of my own stupidity first. For years, years, the Kaiser Chiefs have been the musical equivalent of that friend-of-a-friend who keeps showing up at every party and you never learn their name because you’re an idiot. A commercial here. A club banger there. “Who is that?” Every. Single. Time. The answer was always the same: Kaiser Chiefs. Rinse. Repeat. Embarrass yourself.
So when the 20th anniversary tour for Employment came around I figured enough was enough. Bought a ticket, flew to London, walked into the Eventim Apollo with basically zero idea what I was about to see.
But first, Corella. Nobody warned me about Corella. Manchester, naturally, because that city is just constitutionally incapable of producing a bad band. They’ve got this ’80s thing going, a little Culture Club but with more edge, some soul thrown in, interesting beats, a touch of Foals maybe—indie pop that doesn’t take itself too seriously, which in 2026 apparently makes you a unicorn. They were on fire. I went home and downloaded the album. Not on my radar before that night. Very much on it now. Manchester keeps doing this to me.
Then the Chiefs came out, and the place absolutely lost its mind. And I mean packed. Not “sold out” packed. I mean, there was nowhere to stand, nowhere to sit, no air left in the building. These people have been waiting 20 years for this show, and they showed up like it.
Here’s my best attempt at describing what they actually sound like, because Rolling Stone called them “danceable art-punk,” and that’s technically correct, the way calling Niagara Falls “damp” is technically correct. They’re The Clash if The Clash went to a slightly better school. Post-punk grit, massive hooks, genuinely witty lyrics—it sounds like it shouldn’t work, and it absolutely works.
Ricky Wilson is a ridiculous frontman. In the crowd, on the barricade, back on stage, energy like a caffeinated golden retriever who also happens to know exactly what he’s doing up there. The whole band is locked in.
“I Predict a Riot” hit like a freight train. “Na Na Na Na Naa” turned 3,000 British people into something I’ve never quite seen before. “Ruby” was the moment where everyone who claimed they weren’t really fans suddenly knew every single word. Sure, you don’t. Then the encore opened with a Ramones cover. “Blitzkrieg Bop” just completely detonated the room right when you thought it had peaked. Criminal move. Loved it. “The Angry Mob” closed the night—a perfect call. By that point, the room actually was one.
Look. If you’ve been sleeping on the Kaiser Chiefs because you never got around to it, I get it, I was you. But you’re wrong, and you should fix it. They’ve been right there the whole time. The 20th anniversary tour is the universe giving you a nudge. Take it.
Go listen. Go see them. Feel bad about how long it took you.
CORELLA
