Fresh from her Mercury Prize win, reimagines her second album THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE with and .

On Friday 23rd of October 2026, performed her 17-track, full-bodied orchestral album ‘This Music May Contain Hope’ at the historic South Kensington venue, Royal Albert Hall.

The show began with a man on the stage, accordion in his arms, playing under a dim streetlight. Then another walked onto the stage to tend to a solitary rose. This rose would soon be seen wilting, then blooming over the course of the night. This evening’s show, aptly titled ‘This Symphony May Contain Hope ’, offered us an oasis where, over a few hours, we were suspended in the world of the album. We moved through the seasons, as signalled by a Brechtian placard-bearer, leaving one and entering another.

The set design transported us to rolling fields complete with actors, costumes, intermittent signs signalling the four seasons, and an interval – much as one would expect in the theatre. This was a deliberate symphony stretched beyond the constraints one would expect from a concert; in a bid for accuracy, it was a . Lost in the sweeping overtures and swells of the orchestra, I was in awe that what I was experiencing was live and the product of individual efforts on and offstage. reverence for the band, her family, and the team behind her bringing this project of cinematic proportions to life was present throughout.

Her album is self-described as “indulgent and maximalist”. It breaks the fourth wall from its first words, “Allow me to set the scene…”. One with standout features from legends including on ‘Goodbye Henry.’, on ‘Click Clack Symphony.’, her two sisters, Lauren Amma and Abby-Lynn Keen both professionally known respectively as and on the track ‘Joy.’, and her grandparents on ‘Lifeboat.’, ‘Fields.’ and ‘Where Is My Husband.’.

As an avid listener and appreciator of albums as a body of work, I relish a story being told from beginning to end. I blame my film degree for this: I have been trained to look and long for the story. This album moves through the four seasons, starting in autumn and ending in the high hopes of summer; nothing then could make this listener happier than experiencing these songs sequentially.

was conducted by her all-star collaborator, . This arrangement offered an opportunity for the less conspicuous moments in the album to be foregrounded. The musicians, like archaeologists, dug through the songs’ nuances and found moments to stretch out or subvert. Towards the end of the section, took a moment to speak to some of the harder parts of life and how the song ‘I Know You’re Hurting.’ took shape after a conversation about what you do when you’re sad. In her words, “You don’t need to be hard and together all the time”; this hung in the air. I absorbed these words, only to hear the silence broken by a sincere “Thank you!!” from the back of the concert hall. With a simple

exchange and an acknowledgement that what she said was heard and felt, our spokesperson voiced our collective sentiment. offered her pathos at the end of the song, and that is– . She engaged us as a chorus, and encouraged us to sing in unison in a call-and-response; “Everything is going to be alright” rang out through the hall, until we believed it. Once it solidified into genuine belief, I sent that message to my dear friend in an attempt to share the medicine.

Another moment came when began, in the midst of the playful and, very apparently, oxymoronic ‘I Hate the Way I Look Today,’ where a couple sprang up and danced together as if no one were watching. The song urges us to move beyond how we feel about how we look and to choose the alternative – defiant acceptance. Their dancing was just that, defiant and bold. Their joy was effervescent throughout the jazzy number. This was the joy of being. Of living through the song. During the ballad ‘Nightingale Lane.’ delivered one of the strongest vocal performances of the night, breaking into an operatic register that an orchestra is built for, before delivering the anticipated sustained note the song is known for. Her musical dexterity shone through the evening as she fearlessly subverted expectations of songs that we know, introducing new notes, tones, and nuances.

A tender moment came during ‘Fields.’ when was joined by her to share their song. This was a quieter, more poignant moment when we leaned in to witness a conversation between a grandfather and a granddaughter and to enjoy the fruits of their familial labour of love. Both “born little with big dreams”; these two artists met to share in a dream that has been passed down.

The show culminated in ‘Joy.’, one that any fan who has seen clips of the tour anticipates being joined by her sisters, and to revel in the glee it brings. This rendition of the disco-gospel pop song was built slowly, starting stripped-back as the orchestra gradually swelled behind her, before exploding with the energy and tempo we have come to expect of the song. Once the three sisters were reunited, singing together, the room erupted, jumping to the beat, backed by the percussion, and a renewed sense of exhilaration washed over us, knowing that we had survived , and – was here.

The album’s self-reflexive nature lent itself to this live iteration as the lyrics themselves remind us to “…close your eyes and let this music get to working” or that this “is a sad song”, thus creating a more transparent and candid experience. One can surmise that this was the artist’s hope as she addressed us, explaining how she felt about the songwriting process, the complex nature of life, and even her thoughts on her vocal delivery from earlier in the evening. These all work together to create a candid experience, one in which you hope to be more honest with yourself and others, coupled with a joie de vivre.

There are so many moments that leaned into the theatrics that this project demands: the stiletto heel percussion in ‘Click Clack Symphony.’ and mastery over the organ; in jazz tradition, moments when the orchestra dropped into stop-time for and to cue the powerful band hits; the titular ‘South London Lover Boy.’ that came to life as masked man in a trench coat weaving through the audience; and the closing encore ‘Where Is My Husband’ complete with red confetti. She spoke to us about hope, love, and pain, of this beautiful/messy and easy/hard life. Asked us to let go of our worries and jump to the beat for 16 bars. clearly didn’t want the night to end, and neither did we.