Well, where to start with this? 7 days before this gig, Sault was just a mysterious studio collective of unknown musicians helmed by top producer Inflo (co-creator of fantastic albums by Little Simz, Michael Kiwanuka, Jungle and Adele(!)) who had released quite a number of albums since 2019, ranging from progressive R&B concept albums to choral and orchestral works, all released with zero information and minimal artwork. But on Saturday 9th of December, Sault fans were informed via one extremely brief Instagram post that on that Monday morning, we would be able to buy tickets for something called “Acts of Faith” that would be happening on Thursday 14th.
Somewhere around 3000 tickets for this event sold out in seconds with absolutely no idea of what it would entail - would it be a gig? How would that work with an anonymous band? Maybe a live stream of some sort? Or just some kind of elaborate prank? Luckily for Sault, thousands of us were willing to take that leap and that is why I found myself heading to a closed down IKEA building in Tottenham to see what would happen.
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On arriving at the venue I get myself into a fairly lengthy and slowly moving queue, cursing the presumably incompetent security at this ramshackle venue, but the reason for our slow progress becomes clear when I step in through one of the former loading bays and find myself in a labyrinth of industrial filing boxes, which kicks us out suddenly into a grimy, dated apartment where two actors are sitting watching TV and looking bored, before we exit through their fridge and into a metal tunnel, climbing up towards a bright white light which turns out to be a shiny mirror maze room - all glass and lights except for some exotic plants and copies of the band’s albums in Perspex boxes on plinths. This eventually leads us up a ramp through a huge concrete circle and that’s where we are “born” into the gig venue itself.
I should mention that Drumsheds is actually a sort of mega-club; the entire floor of what used to be the IKEA warehouse, normally hosting 15,000 clubbers in one massive open space. The reason for only 3,000 tickets being sold becomes immediately apparent, as the whole venue has basically become the performance area - elaborate sets and structures throughout referencing album names and art; two stages in opposite corners of the cavernous room set up for a large choir and an orchestra; tall viewing platforms on each side, and in the middle of the room, a sealed Perspex capsule with a band set-up inside, surrounded by amphitheatre bench seating.
This is clearly going to be the place to be, so I grab one of the last available seats and wait a good 20 minutes chatting to a fellow fan before being asked to move by security, who let us into the secret that this isn’t actually a real stage and that this isn’t where the show is going to be happening at all. Skeptically, I move away like a good obedient gig-goer, albeit cursing under my breath, especially since the next time I look the security guys are cordoning off this area and only letting people with wristbands in (Chris Martin and Dua Lipa don’t want to hang out with me? Their loss…)
But now what? Whether this is or isn’t where the band are going to be, I now need to find somewhere else to stand, so after wandering the entire circuit of this enormous space a couple of times, I decide that this orchestra set-up is almost certainly not fake, and plonk myself directly in front of it and and wait for something to happen…
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I don’t have long to wait by the orchestra before something happens over to my right - on a raised platform I’ve not even noticed until now, a set of Japanese -looking percussion instruments are being set up, and then out comes a guy (possibly Joji Hirota?) who proceeds to whack the heck out of them for 20 minutes to gee up the crowd. The support is as conventional as everything else so far, then…
Eventually the members of the orchestra quietly take their seats in my tiny corner of the venue, dressed in matching outfits with matching silver streaks in their hair (yes, even the bald double bass player) and start proceedings proper with the title track from 2022’s “Air” album, a sort of contemporary orchestral work recalling everything from David Axelrod to Mike Oldfield’s “Orchestral Tubular Bells”. And then suddenly from the opposite corner of the warehouse, the choir springs into life and my part of the audience spin around to see what’s going on over there. This aural and visual ping pong continues throughout this first part of the set (though thanks to the immaculately mixed sound we can hear everything perfectly balanced wherever we are in the venue) and then suddenly we realise there’s a third area between the orchestra and choir where dancers have started coming out and along an extended stage into the middle - starting like a fashion show catwalk and then introducing all sorts of dance from expressive, lyrical movement to terrifying law enforcement-styled pursuits.
So far, there’s no sign of Sault, whoever or whatever they are - but at the end of “Time is Precious” one of the people on the catwalk stage, veiled in an enormous hat with impressive dangly bits, starts singing to an enormous cheer; marking the first obvious appearance tonight of anyone connected to Sault - as even through the disguise, those closer to the stage recognise Cleo Sol, widely believed to be the voice of many of Sault’s songs (plus the fact that she’s married to Inflo is perhaps a bit of a giveaway :D)
Twenty minutes into this mammoth gig and things take a turn into what the setlist in front of the conductor calls the “Africa section”, with a group of drummers and percussionists starting up on a stage that’s now become visible tucked in a corner behind the catwalk, as dancers in bright costumes explode out into the audience for a real celebration of rhythm. And as if we hadn’t already had enough variety, when the Africa section is done, up pops London rapper Little Simz kicking the shit out of her Inflo-produced track “Fear No Man” whilst hidden under a silver balaclava (this is all getting a bit Masked Singer, isn’t it?) followed by Tamil musician Ganavya, the only singer this evening not in disguise, who performs what starts as a beautiful piano and voice cover of Monsoon’s 1982 hit “Ever So Lonely” and then morphs into something of her own making whilst trying to get the crowd involved a little bit of light singalong (“I heard there are a lot of you who can sing out there!”), which doesn’t work out too well because nobody seems to know the song and frankly we’re all a bit too dumbstruck.
Then the orchestra starts up again behind me playing “Gods Will”, so I spin around to watch that, but at the same time the perspex capsule in that central VIP area from which I’d been so rudely ejected earlier lights up like a spaceship - here we go, I think, Sault are going to start playing in that box and I’m going to become overwhelmed with rage that I’m not 100m over thataway - but wait, what’s going on? The capsule, I can see from the video feed across the room, has hollow walls which are now filling up with a smoke screen so that it’s impossible to see anything that may or may not be happening in there.
And then, up starts a proper sounding band for the first time this evening, but I can tell it’s not coming from anywhere near that capsule … wait - what’s that in the wall between the choir and the stage behind the catwalk? Oh, it’s a massive semi-transparent light box in which we can now see silhouettes of some musicians and a vocalist… making the people in that VIP area now some of the furthest people away from the action. Thank you security for saving me from my worst gig fear, and I apologise for mentally cursing you out for the last hour!
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Now that we know where the stage is and where the band are, things start to feel a bit more like a regular gig, but only a bit. Another cryptic Instagram post a couple of weeks before the gig talked about a “new unreleased album live for the first and only time” and so that’s what they proceed to play next: a brand new 9-song album entitled “Acts of Faith”, which on this showing would slot in very nicely alongside the band’s other progressive R&B concept albums but will never get the chance to, because it’s seemingly confirmed after the show that “first and only time” actually meant that nobody will ever be hearing this music again after tonight. It’s hard to imagine just how much most artists would love to have the luxury of discarding an entire album of this quality after a single airing but it seems these guys can churn this stuff out in their sleep?
The “Acts of Faith” set sees the band playing in the big light box alongside lots more dancers, who start out as human swans - and there are occasional forays onto the stage from Cleo Sol (in a variety of disguises). This bit of the gig ends with her belting out a rousing song called “Pray for Me” which everyone present agrees will be a highlight of the new album when it comes out (probably a good job they don’t announce there and then that nobody is ever hearing it again…)
And finally, 90 minutes after the show started, it’s time for the crowd-pleasing encore of “hits” from across the band’s catalogue (except that with 19 songs over 75 minutes it’s longer than some bands’ headline sets.) This also sees various members of the band leaving the confines of their privacy box at times, with a small band setup on the main stage for a couple of songs (with all the performers in ski masks, naturally) as well as more dancers, Brazilian drummers and guest appearances from not-terribly well disguised musicians like Jack Peñate, Michael Kiwanuka, Kid Sister, Little Simz again and rapper Chronnix. The is-it-isn’t-it-a-stage capsule actually gets used for some extra band action at one point, and they even find time to appear on another previously unnoticed mini-stage up in the wall of the warehouse for half a song - seriously, hadn’t they spent enough money on this event yet?
Cleo even spontaneously breaks protocol at one point and pops out of the light box to ask if we’re all having a good time and tell us how much fun she’s having, in the only audience interaction we get all night. Things are getting dangerously close to being fun and exhilarating rather than mysterious and cryptic -not sure how to feel about this!
But after an epic “best of” set, and with fan favourite “Wildfires” bringing everything to a close, the lights finally come up and this completely unrepeatable experiences draws to a close, and I am genuinely caught by confused surprise at the realisation that I now have to go and catch a train to go home. A more immersive gig I will likely never see: the use of the space to confound typical gig-going behaviours, the creative ways of obscuring the band’s identities, the hundreds of supporting dancers and musicians, the numerous clues and puzzles hidden in the set design; oh and the fantastic music, some of which we are the only people who will ever hear - it’s a lot to take in but it’s easily the best thing I’ve seen this year and quite possibly over time will go down as the thing I was most lucky to be a part of.
For a debut gig, it’s not a bad effort. ;)
