I should confess upfront that Aqualung is one of my favourite musicians. There was a twenty-something year gap between seeing him in Manchester and catching him at The Cluny in Newcastle in 2023, and when he announced he was bringing himself and his keyboard to The Jazz Café, London, it was never a question of whether to go, only I got there.

The Jazz Café itself is far less pretentious than its name might suggest. A small, intimate floor with a balcony of dining tables above, the stage close enough to the audience to catch every expression, every raised eyebrow, every quietly shared moment between musicians. It’s the kind of venue that strips everything back to what matters; the music and the people.

The anticipation in the room before Matt took to the stage had a particular kind of electricity to it. Not the feverish energy of a crowd waiting for a spectacle, but something warmer and more knowing. These were people who understood what they were about to receive. When he did appear (slightly later than billed, for which we’ll absolutely forgive), it was with the endearing, almost apologetic humility that is entirely and recognisably his. Introducing the evening through mic reverb with a few nerves on open display, he promised us a “professional rock and roll show”, entirely tongue in cheek, and outlined the plan. A first half of his own music, a break, and then something he had dreamed of doing since childhood; playing ‘Pet Sounds’, the Beach Boys’ 1966 masterpiece, in its entirety, front to back.

He disappeared offstage and returned approximately thirty seconds later to whoops and laughter, the ice broken, and the audience entirely in his hands.

The first half opened with Matt alone at his keys, before his brother and guitarist Ben Hales (B for Brilliant by the way…) joined from song two onwards, adding breathtaking harmonies and the quiet, unshowy musicianship that has always been part of the Aqualung sound. Ben is, if anything, even more humble than Matt, which is quite the achievement, and together they create something that feels less like a performance and more like being invited into a rehearsal room and quietly handed something precious.

Between songs, Matt talked about songwriting, about nerves, and about the strangeness of not performing that often (as I said to you at The Cluny back in 2023, and when I interviewed you for Radio 6’s Chris Hawkins Breakfast Show in 2024, you just need to do it more often and then it won’t be so ‘weird’… just saying…). ‘Everything Changed’ became something particularly significant when he explained it had been written 29 years ago for a special person, Matilda, who was in the audience that night. His mum was there too, and more on that shortly.

The arrival of Davide Rossi on violin added stunning string arrangements to several tracks, later also with an almost luminous green recorder much to my delight, definitely playing to his clearly spirited nature. The set moved through ‘The Lake’, ‘You Turn Me Around’ and into ‘Tongue Tied’, a moment of the evening that nobody in that room will forget in a hurry.

That is because during Tongue Tied, Matt’s son Kofi (Hales) joined him on stage to sing with him for the very first time.

Kofi started tentatively, a little awkward at first, perhaps finding his footing as anyone would singing live for the first time alongside their father in front of a full room. But, as the music took hold, Kofi visibly relaxed, and what followed was genuinely spine-tingling. A voice of real depth and warmth, completely natural, completely his own, the room listened in the kind of silence that only happens when something extraordinary is unfolding.

After a short break, the full band assembled and the replay of ‘Pet Sounds’ began. Matt dedicated it, of course, to his mum, the album, he told us, had been played to him in the womb, and she was sitting in the audience. A few audience contributions along the way, by the time they got to the final few notes of ‘God Only Knows’, having had Kofi back at the microphone to lead the vocals, Matt and Ben framing him on either side, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house, especially with a hug at the end, the music suspended for a moment in pure celebration.

How do you follow that? You don’t, really. You just have to let it (and yourself!) breathe and move forward.

Despite the complexity and clear apprehension of delivering the whole of ‘Pet Sounds’, the whole band threw themselves into delivering it with joy and precision, supported by various percussion, guitar, drums, even a bass harmonica (a sound I don’t think I’d ever encountered before and one that will remain). It felt at times like an extended jam session, and at others like a meticulously crafted tribute to an album that has shaped so much; probably both are true.

The encore, teased with characteristic Matt Hales humour before the audience gave the encouragement the band clearly deserved, brought Matt back to the keys solo, including a spontaneous, genuinely funny improvised song about jazz and cafés (that I will say nothing more about other than only he could craft something so witty and yet endearing), the band rejoined for the final stretch, Kofi back at the mic again, closing the evening with ‘If I Fall’, an absolute sound bath of musical magic that completely swallowed me up, before ‘California Girls’ sent everyone out into the night on exactly the kind of lift you want to carry home with you.

I was lucky enough to share the whole evening with one of my closest friends, and there is something about experiencing music like this together, music that conjures memories and emotions, and a feeling of being truly present, that doubles everything; the joy, the love, the romanticism, alongside a sense of privilege from being in that room.

Matt Hales said it himself; it is a magical thing, to gather together to make and listen to music. That night at The Jazz Café, he made it feel like the most important thing in the world.

Which, of course, it is.