A Triumphant Homecoming for a Northern Icon
In a year already marked by significant highs, including opening for the reformed Oasis and scoring a No. 2 album, Richard Ashcroft has capped it off with a monumental, sold-out performance at Manchester's 23,500-capacity Co-op Live. The 54-year-old northerner commanded the stage with a revitalised, rocket-boosted confidence that powerfully echoed his celebrated 1990s era with The Verve.
Channeling 'Mad Richard' on the Manchester Stage
Once dubbed "Mad Richard" by the music press for his almost messianic belief in music's power, Ashcroft's legendary stage presence was in full force. His signature arsenal of moves—from raining air punches on imaginary foes to other physically expressive gestures—would seem out of place anywhere else. Yet, under the stage lights, these antics were ridiculously compelling, captivating the massive audience from the outset.
Despite a slightly muddy sound mix for the opening numbers, the perma-sunglassed singer performed with a palpable physical intensity, as if striving to transport both himself and every attendee to a higher plane. "Who wants to go up again?" he roared, spontaneously adding an extra chorus to Music Is Power to elevate the energy further.
From Solo Wobbles to Verve-Era Foundations
Ashcroft displayed a self-aware charm, humorously cautioning the crowd about an approaching "slow one from the new album" and describing Oh L’Amour as "my Charles Aznavour moment," which he then crooned beautifully. While his solo career has experienced its fluctuations, it remains firmly built upon the profound foundation of The Verve's seminal ballads.
A rare, raw, and wounded rendition of History from 1995 showcased this depth. The emotional pinnacle of the night was The Drugs Don’t Work, a song widely believed to be about his father's death, which visibly moved the entire arena. The roaring applause for Sonnet and Lucky Man prompted a triumphant shout from Ashcroft: "I wish the music teacher that said I was a 'cancer in the class' was here to see this now."
A Cathartic Finale for Modern Britain
The night culminated in a truly stellar, nine-minute rendition of Bitter Sweet Symphony. Even 28 years on, its iconic line, "you're a slave to money then you die," resonated deeply with the modern British audience. Ashcroft fell theatrically to his knees, physically illustrating the song's struggle, before unleashing a vast, cathartic sing-along. The scene resembled a gigantic, emotionally charged Last Night of the Proms, uniting the crowd in a powerful, shared moment.
Richard Ashcroft's UK tour continues at the Utilita Arena, Cardiff on March 24, followed by further arena dates, proving his enduring appeal and the timeless power of his music.
