SAULT Delivers Magic Again
On Friday, I had the chance to witness something truly special in London. In a world defined by overstimulation, constant connectivity, and algorithmic attention-grabs, SAULT reminded me that truly unforgettable moments can still be crafted...without all the noise. There was no flashy content piece or PR cycle, just a time, date, and a promise that something was going to happen in Soho.
The elusive collective, known for their radical scarcity, genre-blending catalogue, and refusal to play by industry rules, dropped a cryptic message earlier in the week: a pop-up show would take place “Somewhere in soho LDN, Friday 18th, 3PM….”. A day later they said the location would be revealed on Friday at 12pm.
When Friday came round and it hit 12pm, instead of an address, fans got a treasure hunt. Abstract artwork appeared on their Instagram Stories that told fans to “look for the artwork”. Later they revealed the artwork, a Basquet-inspired piece that appeared as an insert in their 2020 album “Untitled: Black Is” along with a message:
“We are looking forward to meeting you…
Come find us on Bateman Street at 3pm”
I finished my lunch and headed down to Soho with the hope I would see them play. I got there around 2:15pm and was immediately stunned by the crowd. Thousands, had already descended, and word was the venue only held 150 people.
The queue ran all the way down to Oxford street, buzzing with anticipation. The sun was scorching, but spirits were high as people handed out water and homemade Paloma and Rum Punch slushies. The energy was communal as people swapped stories, made friends, booed queue jumpers, and hung onto hope of getting.
They opened the doors at 3PM and the queue started moving at a snail’s pace. Three hours passed and finally I reached the front.
We were let 5-10 people at a time and had to wait for the previous group to leave before going in. Everyone leaving wore huge smiles which built the excitement even more.
Inside, things took a surreal turn. Upon entry, we we welcomed into what looked like a carefully curated Wabi-Sabi style home. A woman greeted us with a straight face: “What are you doing in my house?” Two men played chess in the corner. A quiet man sat silently at a table in the entrance. We quickly realised it was all part of the performance.
The woman asked what we had brought for her and the awkwardness grew even more. People looked frantically for gifts to give her, worried we would be denied entry if we didn’t have anything for her. One person handed over a cigarette. Another offered a sketch. The mood shifted as the woman smiled, and welcomed us into her house.
After a minute or two, she ushered us downstairs into a dimly lit basement as we’re told photography was not allowed downstairs.
And then it was revealed.
There sat in front of us was Cleo Sol and Inflo — no stage, no barrier, just them and us. They were jamming live. Cleo’s voice — unfiltered, magical — filled the room with effortlessly. She sang “Higher” in a stripped-down version that gave the small crowd goosebumps. Everyone was stunned into silence and tears.
As the audience began singing back, Cleo noticed someone from the audience had a particular soulful voice and she offered him the microphone, starting an improvised call and response with him.
At that point, Cleo said we could film and a few of us were able to capture the moment.
We only had 5 minutes. But what we witnessed seemed to exist outside of time entirely.
As we were gently ushered back upstairs we all thanked Cleo, some in tears, everyone smiling.
On the way out, we passed an immersive merch area, offering SAULT vinyl and sweatshirts. Prices were “pay what you want.” No cash grabs. No urgency. Just take what you feel. I bought a copy of Nine and a sweatshirt.
As I left, I saw the next group being welcomed into the home, beginning their journey exactly as we had. “Just wait till you see what’s in there,” I told them.
Four hours in the queue for ten minutes in the room and anyone who was lucky enough to get inside would’ve queued for eight.
In a world where artists are constantly shouting to be seen and heard, SAULT whispers. They build a world and invite you into it, giving their audience something to feel, not just consume. They understand that in 2025, the real goal isn’t reach, it’s connection and presence.
The experience felt like a living memory, and it was truly magical.
