Madra Salach's first visit to our city was unmissable and never to be forgotten: a melting pot of passion, folk tradition and zeitgeist-defeating songwriting. With Tanzana setting a high bar in support, the collective memory of Rescue Rooms may never be the same...
An atmosphere somewhere between feverish excitement and brooding anticipation filled Rescue Rooms to its cavernous ceiling ahead of Madra Salach's first appearance in our city. The fact they have not visited us before is easily forgivable: the breakout experimental Irish folk group have only been performing in earnest outside of their homeland for about a year - heck they only formed in 2023 - and their debut EP is barely 10 months old.
First though, Tanzana: a well-honed Glasgow-based quintet who, coincidentally, formed the same year as tonight's headliners. They emerged, barely visibly, onto the foggy stage; behind, their gothic-styled name with its sword logo resplendent in giant monochrome.
They opened with open chords reminiscent of peak Radiohead, a dark and building vibe. The set mainly showcased their recent EP, Etched In, with some even newer material explored towards the end.
Without A Sound was delivered with an uncurrent of huge, jaw-shaking bass notes, and Pulse, Pose, Position allowing Freya Talbot to exercise her startling vocal range. She is easily able to switch from intimate whisper - or anxiety inducing gasp - to a rich, supported and soaring alto vocal in the blink of a moment.
On the declamatory Astar with its stop start fizz and fuzz, Talbot seethed: "I received your letter, I was shocked at what you wrote me". Along with her bandmates, a force to be reckoned with.
Tanzana produce a superb sound, very much together at all times, playing a repertoire of strong songs with a both punchy and emo-soaked feel. The interplay of their two guitarists - Sarah Dunn on lead and Lily Findlay on rhythm - was a joy to see, the sounds intertwining effortlessly. Their style is markedly different from Madra Salach's but they were a worthy opening act.
After the eternity of a 40-minute interlude, it became obvious that this was a truly sold-out show: the balcony was open and filled, the floor was barely visible. A mark of the buzz Madra Salach have generated during their relentless first year of touring.
It was a cover of The Tunnel Tigers to open - a frenzy of sound, with the main 'dirty dog' Paul Banks pacing the stage like a caged animal. Ribbon Factory was the first song to feature the trademark harmonium drone that gives this band's own, modern interpretation of the genre so much ancient energy - an energy which exploded any reservations or barrier between musicians and watchers. This was no second-hand emotion coming form the hands and hearts of the band members, or from the mouths of the English East Midlands' audience as they joined together to sing of the loss of community and humanity.
BOLG and Stones were followed by two more covers. A riotous version of Turkish Song of the Damned by The Pogues, with its unfathomable timing tackled effortlessly by the seated band members who seemed connected telepathically and just the occasional glancing eye contact. And then an immensely poignant Murphy Can Never Go Home which Banks preceded with a bold explanation of its story. Tonight, we were all one with those exploited navvies.
Later, that theme of repression - and standing up of the oppressed - would re-emerge in one of the most unabashedly political songs on the circuit: Lankum's The Rocks of Palestine.
Elsewhere, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel was a gem also, the poetic words delivered gently by Banks - before he stole Jack Martin's tin whistle to add discordant notes to the song's second half.
It was the original material which shone with a fierce light, though, reaching an early pinnacle in the wonderful shape of Blue & Gold and its shared story of parsimony and futile hope; and then summiting with I Was Just A Boy Then. That song's extended instrumental is rapturous; simple joy in musical form. The moment the band suddenly stops for a brief bar, and then resumes not a fraction of a beat out of place is worth waiting for; as is the final outro where Banks crouches over an electronic black box to create whirling dissonance.
Between songs, the irrepressible and very funny Banks told tall tales created with care just for us. He shared a story of his first visit to Nottingham, arriving on an airplane at 10am for an evening Bob Dylan performance, whiling away the day in our lovely city, and then being taken under the wing of Notts' finest Wetherspoons residents for the post-show hours... Another tale, at first believable, began with a visit to Wollaton Hall on that Bob Dylan day. It was there he found a mysterious room, wood panelled and home to a four poster bed behind whose curtains slept "the most beautiful man ... robed in crimson rose". A passionate kiss woke the man who prophesied of this very night at Rescue Rooms - that man being none other than bandmate Jack Martin. We were fooled.
Just before the end of their show came new song Searrach, ending with yells and flangy synths sounds. And then, of course, The Man Who Seeks Pleasure: extended, huge, rising and breaking in emotive waves. This is not your typical finale piece; it's not a high energy farewell or a precursor to a theatrical encore. But Madra Salach are not your typical band. They are an experience in themselves, a joy-stirring concoction of warm hearts, bold emotion and fearless poetry. Six lads from Dublin with honest tales to tell, and a rare combination of skills and honesty with which to tell them.
They left with hugs and faces showing obvious pleasure in what they had achieved tonight - with the sounds of Sleaford Mods' Jobseeker ushering them backstage.
Madra Salach performed at Rescue Rooms on 10 October 2026, with support from Tanzana. Their debut album Gorta is due for release in January 2027.
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