The Katet are back, and the funk is thicker than ever. This time they’ve pointed their horn section squarely at 1995 — a year of Britpop swagger, MTV saturation, and late-night slow jams — and retooled it with syncopated grooves, deep bass pockets, and brass hooks sharp enough to cut glass.

They set the mood from the off with a simmering jam: I’ll Be There for You flipped into a gospel-funk fanfare, Over My Shoulder cruising on Rhodes keys, and Love Will Save the Day stretched out over basslines that could’ve wandered off a Stevie Wonder deep cut. Breakfast at Tiffany’s shakes off its college-radio jangle to become a horn-heavy swinger, while the Britpop run (Common People, Year 2000, Alright) is reimagined with fat backbeats and sax solos that raise grins all round. By the time High and Dry gets its unexpected calypso shuffle, the sunshine is pouring in, only for Waterfalls to slip back down on liquid grooves. The hip muso nymphs in the crowd are loving every beat.

Then the lights dim and the mood shifts. Street Spirit broods on muted trumpet and moody bass drones; Kiss from a Rose swells into a cinematic jazz-soul torch song. But just when the set threatens to get too introspective, the pendulum swings violently back with a funk-cooked Cotton Eye Joe — a hoedown reimagined as a second-line parade, horns blasting, dance floor shaking.

From there, it’s pure theatre. The Britney vs Christina showdown (Toxic, Oops I Did It Again, Beautiful, Genie in a Bottle, Lady Marmalade) struts in like a carnival — wah-wah guitars, slap bass, and brass swagger firing off in all directions. The Oasis suite follows close behind (Rock n Roll Star, Wonderwall, Champagne Supernova, Don’t Look Back in Anger), sending the room into full beer-soaked choir mode, lifted by horn stabs and funk-drenched crescendos.

The finale throws subtlety out the window. Blur’s Girls and Boys riffs like Gil Evans in Ibiza, All I Wanna Do lounges, How Bizarre skips on reggae offbeats, Boom Boom Boom explodes into party-funk, and Mr Bombastic swaggers on a ska groove. The Katet stitch it all together with improviser’s instinct: solos trading, grooves mutating, horns riffing off each other like a brass conversation at full tilt.

Not every tune quite survives the transplant — a couple of ballads never shake off their karaoke DNA — but that’s almost irrelevant. What matters is the feel: the sweat, the horn blasts, the bass you feel in your sternum. The Katet arere-scoring 1995 in Technicolor funk.

Proof that even a year stuffed with Britpop and boybands gets a whole lot better when you swing it, syncopate it, and blast it through a brass section.

****

Reviewed by Steve H

Venue The Jazz Bar

Time 23.00 (1hr 30mins)

17th to 21st Aug