When I saw San Salvador in the Daily Info music listings I couldn’t quite believe it would be the same band I had had the pleasure of watching in a forest clearing in central France, four long years ago. I mean, Oxford Contemporary Music and SJE Arts do have a strong reputation for putting on an excellent and eclectic range of concerts, but I figured that the odds of folk musicians from the Massif Central performing in a venue only twenty minutes walk from my home in East Oxford was a bit much to expect, especially after two summers of travel disruptions. But my doubts were unfounded: this was the same hypnotic, transcendent San Salvador – an absolute musical thrill.

Last night’s concert had a lovely informal feeling – the band were a little tired, having ‘enjoyed’ a three-hour delay under the English Channel, courtesy of Eurostar, and their audience banter made great comic use of the occasional language barrier, including the moment they tried to describe Easter as ‘when Christ was ‘up there’ [mimes cruicifixion] whilst standing, unwittingly, directly below the church’s very own enormous sculpture of the Crucifixion). The band’s laid-back and irreverent charm makes the precision and intensity of their music all the more enjoyable – there’s a sense that this craft has been nurtured from the heart, and they want you, the audience, to feel the soul of the sound, unencumbered by any po-faced pretence.

San Salvador’s sound combines a gorgeous mix of intricate, weaving rhythms (drums, cymbals, tambourines, hand claps) and impassioned, richly layered vocals. The result manages to feel mournful and festive at the same time, reminding me of the mood at religious festivals which are partly a huge party - and partly all about the horrible suffering of the saint in question. There’s a deeply moving, timeless quality which takes your imagination away from your immediate surroundings and everyday thoughts, and has you crossing centuries and cultures, feeling connected to wider humanity – and also in the mood for a long night of dancing in a remote village in the Massif Central. They also have that ‘hook’ of minor modes combined with drones, which lies at the heart of so much brilliant Central French folk music – an absolutely addictive sound for those of us who love such a combination.

For anyone not fortunate enough to be at last night’s gig, I recommend the band’s 2020 album La Grande Folie – and invite you to be immersed in their music for a journey of your own.