Cardiacs have always done things their way, their willfully singular vision confounding many, but seeing them become one of the most cherished bands given the epithet of a ‘cult’ act. Whilst band leader Tim Smith passed away in 2020, bassist brother and co-founding member Jim has kept the flame burning, and when the band returned in 2024 after a sixteen-year hiatus, the news was welcomed in some quarters, like The Second Coming.
Cardiacs
Electric Brixton, London – 11 March 2026
Words: Paul Monkhouse
Photography: Gareth Dean
Whilst the band had seen line-up changes along with a dizzying career of ups and downs, what has remained true throughout has been their ability to make some of the most singular yet accessible music out there.
Last year’s LSD album was a mighty comeback, the bittersweet fact that this will be their last release bringing both joy and heartache. The chance to see these songs played live was one to be embraced fully, and so it was at a night of celebration and remembrance at a packed Brixton Electric.
It is a warming sight to see so many squeezing into every inch of the south of the river venue, grey-haired long-term fans of the band standing shoulder to shoulder with many seemingly barely out of their teens.
This is some of the wonder of Cardiacs, though, their ability to intrigue and beguile anyone with an ear for something utterly unique and with no support act, this two-hour romp through their back catalogue was a truly wild ride.
To some here, the band are truly the most important in the world, an allegiance that has weathered the many storms and something that goes beyond the fleeting zeitgeist chasing fashions of popular culture.
The show itself is not something to be observed purely as a passenger. Instead, it is something to be experienced in a fully immersive way, and this connection between the intellectual and the visceral typifies Cardiacs’ approach to all they do as synaptic fireworks meet angular dancing.
After the seemingly endless intro music fades, the eight band members troop onstage to rapturous reaction, kicking into the twisty anthem Ditzy Scene, vocalist/guitarist Mike Vennart indulging in some high kicks whilst Smith stands centre stage and static as he pumps out the fervent rhythms on his bass.
No Bright Side is a whirlwind of merry-go-round rock ‘n’ roll, its abrasive edges lifting it out of the norm and sees Vennart and fellow six-stringer Kavus Torabi backlit by spotlights as they stand on the monitors at the front of the stage.
With blasts of saxophone from Chloe Herrington and wild keys by Rhodri Marsden along with the percussive power of Bob Leith and Craig Fortnam and vocal touches of Sharron Fortnam, the bounce of toy town march Two Bites Of Cherry can sit comfortably next to the prog punk of Woodeneye and a manic Fiery Gun Hand. The set is a dizzying and heady run through their many moods as the band stretch out.
The fact that Cardiacs never take the obvious paths makes them ever more endearing, each new number a wild ride of tone and the sheer wonderful mania of it all utterly intoxicating.
In a set that encompasses the delicate strains of Breed, the woozy fragility of Spell With A Shell, and the funk rush meets Queen of the mind-bending Dinnertime Is At Home (Not Here), nothing is linear, and you know Cardiacs would have it no other way.
Very little is said from the stage all evening, a more taciturn band it would be hard to find. But the music itself speaks volumes, and the whole is the antithesis of a big stadium show. Maybe things have calmed down a little over the years, the unpredictability of the live experience morphing into something a little more focused.
But this new line-up certainly cannot be faulted in their passion, the need to charge around the stage in the manner of bands like Iron Maiden eschewed for an intimacy that says more in a whisper than others can in a scream.
Despite this, though, Cardiacs can do anthemic. The closing salvo of Everso Closely Guarded Line finishes the main set with a gloriously extended instrumental section before two encores bring the mammoth set to a close.
Stripped back acapella and organ hymnals, Pink Floyd-ish flourishes and the Beatles style sweep of The Whole World Window unfurl as flowers are thrown into the audience, the masses demanding more and getting two last songs before the band take their bows, the love flowing both ways.
Emotions run high, and if this is to be their last hurrah, they have certainly done it in style. When Vennart poignantly holds a picture of Tim Smith aloft to an already passionate gathering, it is to a blend of grateful smiles and tears.
Few bands hold a place in the heart like Cardiacs, and the world is a much richer place because of them.
