There are concerts, and then there are celebrations. The Roundhouse in Camden became the latter on 21 June 2025, as Kid Creole & The Coconuts returned to a city that has loved them since the early ‘80s – this time for a glittering, bittersweet goodbye as part of the Bye Bye Birdy Tour.
From the photographers’ pit – just me and one other lucky lens-holder – I watched as ‘Kid’ August Darnell bounded onto the stage like a man half his age. At 74, he was pure energy, commanding the stage with the same charisma I remember from 1999 when I saw him in London’s What a Night! musical – my very first musical in the UK and the night of my first date with my future husband. Seeing August again, same city, same flair, was like stepping into a time capsule infused with sequins and soul.
The set list was a joyful explosion of old favourites and fresh energy: NLYM, Coast, Crystal Breath, Disobedience, Wish I Was, Big Ben Beat, Summerland – all delivered with irresistible rhythm and flair. But this wasn’t just a show — it was a fiesta. The crowd sang every word, danced in the aisles, and formed spontaneous dance trails that snaked through the venue like an 80s carnival conga revival.
At several moments, the stage turned into a family affair, with Kid Creole’s own grandchildren joining in the fun – adorable, confident, and part of the groove. “When I get on that stage,” August told me in our interview, “I just forget every other element. I love the music so much. It’s better than medicine – it’s therapy.”
And last night, that Roundhouse audience received a potent dose.
He was flanked by his ever-glamorous Coconuts, still sassy, sparkling, and synchronised. The only British Coconut, Luisa, gave a charming intro that brought even more warmth to the room. Watching them, it was clear how vital the Coconuts still are – “In the early days,” August admitted, “people came to see the girls. I was secondary.” Well, I beg to differ. On Saturday night, he stole the scene once again.
Supporting act Omar brought a delicious warm-up of smooth funk, velvet vocals, and serious groove – but once Kid took the stage with his 12-piece band, the tempo snapped to full carnival mode.
From Off You Go to No Aloha, the audience grooved through a set that was tight, theatrical and steeped in his trademark mix of humour, rebellion and elegance. “I’ve been rebellious my whole life,” he said to me, “but not in an angry way. Humour is my rebellion – it’s helped me survive.”
And that spirit shone throughout. From Come Running to Happiness and Invisible Man, there was never a lull. Even as the official set closed, Kid Creole kept giving – three encore songs, because “I didn’t want to leave,” as he later joked with the crowd.
He ended, fittingly, with Cannonball — a blast of finality, fun, and full-circle satisfaction.
In our chat, he said something that struck me deeply: “The great challenge in being a songwriter is telling a story in three minutes. You want to get the audience interested, but you’ve only got a short time — rather than the length of a novel.” And what a storyteller he is. Each song, from the ego-filled I’m a Wonderful Thing, Baby to the Caribbean-infused Annie, I’m Not Your Daddy, is its own mini musical.
And don’t get me started on the fashion. August, ever the style icon, channels Cab Calloway and 1940s zoot suit flair like no one else. “The visual element,” he told me, “is as important as the music. I want everyone to look stylish – 1950s and ‘40s stylish.” And stylish he was — still strutting in two-tone shoes and glittering with tropical bravado.
As he told me with a wink, “Now it is truly time for me to retire! I’m not going to say it again. I’m just going to do it.”
Well, if this really is goodbye, it was the most joyful, riotous, and elegant one London could have hoped for.
From my spot just a few feet away, I saw a living legend give his all, surrounded by family, fans, funk, and feathers. Kid Creole & The Coconuts didn’t just perform – he reminded us that music can be rebellion, therapy, and party all at once.
What a night it was.