REEF // O2 ACADEMY, LEEDS

Reef Bring Britrock Glory Roaring Back to Leeds

⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4/5)

Reef @ Leeds O2 Academy

Photo Credit: Wilf Gill

The Somerset heroes blast through Replenish in full before turning the O2 Academy into a greatest-hits riot.

Reef’s return to Leeds O2 Academy hits with the grit and grin of a pub fight set to melody. Nearly thirty years after Replenish planted them firmly in the Britrock canon, the Somerset quartet still carry that blend of looseness and weight that made them unstoppable in the first place. The floor’s alive from the start — part reunion, part revival, all heart.

The night’s undercard sets the scene perfectly. Terrorvision’s Tony Wright strolls on first, acoustic in hand, every bit the Yorkshire raconteur. His between-song chatter’s as “shit ‘ot” as ever, flipping from self-deprecation to pure charm in a heartbeat. Then Kerbdog turn the temperature up with a set that’s all distortion and muscle — riffs thick enough to chew, drums that land like factory punches. They leave the stage smouldering, and the anticipation is electric.

Reef wander out without ceremony — no big intro, just four men and a mission. They launch straight into Replenish, played in full and in order. “Feed Me” roars out with swampy intent, Jesse Wood’s guitar snarling through the mix. “Choose to Live” and “Lucky Number” follow in quick succession, raw and rolling, a reminder of how heavy Reef could sound when they dig into the groove.

Gary Stringer, still in baseball cap, grey T-shirt and calm command, prowls the stage with preacher-like poise. He doesn’t overplay it — he just owns it. His voice remains a weapon: part blues howl, part soul belt, part controlled explosion. Beside him, Jack Bessant looks like a mountain sage who’s plugged his spirit into the mains — long hair, beard like folklore, eyes locked on the crowd as he works his bass with meditative focus. He’s the band’s anchor, both visually and sonically, laying down those thick, head-nodding foundations that make Replenish feel timeless.

Hearing the album whole gives it a new shape. “Mellow” drifts in and out like smoke, before the closing swell of “End” hits with almost ritualistic power. It’s not nostalgia; it’s communion — songs rebuilt by muscle memory and sheer will.

Then comes the switch. A quick nod, a grin, and they roll into a second set packed with anthems. “I Would Have Left You” sways with soul, Stringer’s voice smooth but defiant. “Summer’s in Bloom” bursts open in golden light, and suddenly the room’s one giant chorus. “Higher Vibration” sends the Academy floor bouncing in rhythm, a spring-loaded surge of energy, before the unmistakable clatter of that cowbell ignites “Place Your Hands.” Every voice in the room joins in, roaring the chorus like a ritual they’ve known since birth. It’s euphoric, messy, and perfect.

They close with “Yer Old,” swaggering and sly, every riff landing like a wink and a punch. The band look elated — not triumphant, just content, like craftsmen proud of their tools still working fine after three decades.

Reef have never chased trends or cool. They always seek a connection. And in Leeds, they find it — a crowd losing itself to songs that have never really left the bloodstream. Replenish might belong to 1995, but tonight it sounds built for forever.

Words: John Hayhurst Photos: Wilf Gill