Leftfield, O2 Academy Brixton, review: G&T may have largely replaced E, but there’s no shortage of ecstasy

The floor is packed with a sea of blissed out faces – people are talking to friends and random strangers. It’s like being in the Best Club Ever

Elysian ’field: each song sounds as stunning as it did the first time you played it (Illias Teirlinck)

When Leftism was released in 1995 it neatly summed up the state of the UK dance scene. Just as likely to be heard at a squat party or at commercial club, the album’s 11 tracks straddle many genres, all the while woven together with the thunderous bass the band became infamous for. Now, 22 years on, one half of the original duo Neil Barnes is touring the album in its entirety for the first time, with a full band and guest singers.

Brixton Academy is rammed to the rafters – the majority of the crowd are here to relive their halcyon rave days but rather than the gurning, stumbling wide-eyed crowd of back in the day, there's a sea of smiling, friendly faces. No one’s shoving their way to the front, there’s no attitude – and gin and tonic seems to have replaced pills as the preferred poison.

Nevertheless first track "Release the Pressure" sends the crowd into ecstasy – singer Earl Sixteen’s unmistakable tones transporting us right back to where it all began, a kaleidoscope of visuals spinning behind the band as the whole venue seems to stomp along as one. Each song sounds as stunning as it did the first time you played it – live, back-to-back, it’s easy to appreciate why Leftism has been proclaimed a masterpiece.

"Afro Left" is an obvious stand out – with Djum Djum’s pleading, soaring lyrics and a juddering bass that hits you bang in the solar plexus. He claws and teases the air in time with the synth notes, while a big cat projection leaps across the stage. It’s a stunning performance and the whole venue is rocking.

The opening notes of "Melt" give us to time to take a breather. The floor is packed with a sea of blissed out faces – people are talking to friends and random strangers. It’s like being in the Best Club Ever. And (hurrah!) there’s hardly any phones held aloft. The crowd want to live for this moment rather than record it for posterity.

The highlight has to be “Open Up” although (sadly) there’s no John Lydon on stage. This takes the roof off Brixton (though thankfully no falling masonry like in 1996). “You lied. You faked. You cheated” seems to have just as much resonance today as it did when it was first released.

There’s not a dud version all night. No filler. Initially the lack of an encore left me nonplussed – but why add anything to a perfect album?