Madra Salach come from Dublin, but there’s something deliberately un-urban about the way their music moves. Formed by a group of friends who cut their teeth playing in pubs and small rooms across the city, the band grew out of a shared love of traditional Irish forms and a curiosity about how far those forms could be stretched without breaking. Over time, extra members joined, the songs lengthened, and space became just as important as melody.

Drone is at the heart of what Madra Salach do. Notes are held, worried at, and slowly layered until they feel less like accompaniment and more like terrain. Harmoniums hum, strings circle insistently, and rhythms emerge more by accumulation than by drive. It gives their music a ritualistic quality — patient, immersive, and quietly intense — where small changes feel seismic if you’re paying attention.

Despite the weight of tradition in their sound, this isn’t nostalgia. Madra Salach are part of a new wave of Irish bands re-examining folk music through experimental lenses, and their recent releases have earned them attention well beyond their home city. Live, the drone elements come into their own, filling spaces and pulling listeners into a shared headspace.