Upstairs at Ronnie Scott’s Reopens and London Listens Closely

There are rooms in London that don’t just host music. Rooms where the walls have learned how to listen, where notes linger long after the final cymbal fades. Upstairs at Ronnie Scott’s is one of those rooms, and after months behind closed doors, it’s back, refurbed, reimagined, and magnificent.

Tucked above the iconic Soho club on Frith Street, the Upstairs room has long been a proving ground. In the 1960s it welcomed jazz royalty, Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone, Roland Kirk. Artists who shaped not just the sound of a genre, but the soul of the city itself. This transformation only sharpens that legacy.

From the moment you step inside, the shift is tangible. Glossy red walls frame the staircase like a slow reveal, pulling you upward into something both familiar and new. The design speaks the same language as downstairs, moody, confident, and timeless but with a renewed sense of intimacy. It feels less like a venue and more like a listening room, somewhere exclusive, somewhere considered, built for you and the musician alone.

This is a space for true music lovers. For those who want to switch off the noise, silence the outside world and listen, really listen. Every detail encourages presence: the closeness of the seating, the sightlines, the warmth of the room. There’s no distractions here.

And that attention is rewarded. The newly designed sound system doesn’t overpower; it breathes. Every hi-hat tick, bass movement and vocal run lands with clarity, wrapping the room without flattening it. When music starts, Soho traffic disappears, replaced by swing, soul and syncopation.

On opening night, the connection was immediate. The room filled with a familiar mix: musicians, heads, couples, curious newcomers, all drawn by the promise Ronnie Scott’s has always delivered, that something special might happen if you’re paying attention. Vula & Friends set the tone, weaving classic and contemporary into a performance that felt celebratory and rooted, mixed with humour and a performance to really show off what Ronnies Upstairs can achieve.

The intimacy invites performers to move differently. To test the room. To lean in. A 360 degree soundscape unfolded table by table, reminding everyone that this isn’t a space for just consumption it’s participatory, alive. When South London’s Nao stepped up, the atmosphere shifted again, her voice gliding through ‘Bad Blood’, ‘If You Ever’, and a tender take on Chaka Khan’s ‘Ain’t Nobody’. Moments like this brought the already intimate setting even more together and shared.

What Upstairs at Ronnie Scott’s offers now is recalibration. A reminder of what live music can feel like when it’s given the right conditions: care, craft, and space to breathe. In a city losing intimate venues faster than it can replace them, this reopening feels quietly vital.

This isn’t a novel way of showcasing nostalgia. It’s continuity. Evolution. A room that knows where it’s been and understands exactly what it’s here for. If you find yourself upstairs, settle in, maybe in one of the raised booths at the back and let the room do what it’s always done best.