Bowling For Soup once asked, “When did Mötley Crüe become classic rock?”
I have a similar problem with 1996.
Because in 1996 I bought records like “Regular Urban Survivors,” “Fishing For Luckies,” and “Just Add Life.” They still feel like old friends. I was buying Oasis records, discovering Presidents Of The USA, and somewhere in amongst all of that noise and possibility was a London band called Kula Shaker.
They released their debut “K” that year. It opened with “Hey Dude,” a genuinely brilliant song, and it felt like a door opening — into mysticism, Eastern philosophy, and sounds we hadn’t really heard in the Britpop rush. It didn’t feel retro. It felt other.
Fast-forward almost three decades and 2024’s excellent “Natural Magik” felt like a reintroduction rather than a comeback. “Wormsleyer” picks that thread up and carries on — calmly, confidently, and entirely on their own terms.
“Lucky Number” kicks things off with a stomp and a glam-flecked sheen. “I can see what those bastards did to me,” sings Crispin Mills, but somehow it lands as strangely upbeat — resilience rather than bitterness.
“Good Money” leans into 60s psychedelia, funky and loose, built around the idea that you and me are free to choose our own reality. The backing vocals underline that sense of warmth and freedom beautifully.
“Charge Of The Light Brigade” is acoustic, fuzzy, and full of energy — a call to arms that urges you to kill your apathy. It feels lived-in rather than preachy.
“Little Darling” follows, gentle and delicate, chiming like a musical box and providing a moment of genuine stillness.
There’s more social commentary in Kula Shaker’s later work, and “Broke As Folk” leans into that. It takes its time to build, and even as someone who knows very little about The Doors, the influence is unmistakable — but they’ve always known how to write a chorus, and this is no exception.
“Be Merciful” might be 20 years old, but it feels like the essence of the band distilled. A calming folk piece that grows patiently toward a quietly powerful crescendo.
By the time we reach “Shaunie,” it’s clear that this sort of songwriting is second nature now. You can spot the influences if you want to, but the sound is entirely their own. That’s reinforced by “The Winged Boy,” which feels like a companion piece, stretching itself out and letting the music breathe.
“Day For Night” is phenomenal — a folk-led track that wouldn’t feel out of place in Dylan’s Greenwich Village phase, timeless and unforced.
And if you’ve been waiting for the Indian influences to fully surface, the epic title track delivers. It’s also the heaviest thing here — and probably the best. Glorious, immersive, and unapologetically expansive.
“Dust Beneath Our Feet” closes things out with grace. Nothing is permanent, it suggests — and the way it’s delivered is classy, restrained, and quietly profound.
Some prick in one of the broadsheets once called Kula Shaker a “joke band.” Leaving aside that he’s probably the sort of knob who thinks he’s a tastemaker, he was simply wrong.
Because if a joke keeps you laughing for 30 years, then — like “Wormsleyer” — it’s probably pretty blinking good.
RATING: 8/10
