The Mary Wallopers @ O2 Academy, Leeds – 27th October 2026
Words and Photos – John Hayhurst
Tuesday night is doing a convincing impression of Saturday by the time The Mary Wallopers get into their stride at Leeds’ O2 Academy. Choruses come back towards the stage with enough force to compete with the PA, and standing still starts to feel like an increasingly pointless exercise. The Dundalk band have built their reputation on making folk music a gloriously participatory business. Tonight, Leeds is happy to do its share of the work.
Opening the evening though are Cork’s Cliffords, with frontwoman Iona Lynch giving early arrivals plenty to pay attention to. A self-confessed Debbie Harry admirer, she brings an easy authority and a powerful voice to the band’s expansive indie sound. There is a touch of Blondie in her stage presence, filtered through a personality very much her own. Cliffords also have an appetite for colouring outside the usual indie lines, their use of trumpet adding warmth and texture to the guitars and keyboards.
Material from their excellent Salt of the Lee EP gives the set a strong foundation, with ‘My Favourite Monster’ a particularly persuasive calling card. Lynch gives the writing character, balancing emotional weight with a conversational touch that makes the songs easy to connect with. Cliffords already have the musical ambition and stage presence to make a support slot count, and tonight offers a welcome opportunity to catch them on their way up.
At the centre of The Mary Wallopers are brothers Charles and Andrew Hendy, whose voices retain every scrape and rough edge. There is character in the way they deliver a line, allowing the humour to land without losing the bitterness underneath. Between them, they make the stage feel remarkably informal. You get the sense that the next song could be followed by a punchline, an argument or another song before anyone has finished laughing.
‘Castlecoe Hill’ gets things moving, while ‘Crowns of England’ gives the early charge a sharper edge. September’s third album, Paddywhackery, provides plenty of fresh ammunition, and there is confidence in how the new material sits alongside the established repertoire. The songs carry the same appetite for storytelling, argument and mischief that has always made this band such good company. Their own writing is becoming an increasingly persuasive part of the attraction.
Behind that easy manner sits a band with serious discipline. Finnian O’Connor’s whistle and pipes give the music its lift, the melodies cutting through as the rhythm section keeps everything driving forward. Listen beyond the shouting and the speed and there is plenty to admire: the sharpness of the changes, the way the instruments answer one another, the space left for a voice to carry a story. Keeping music this lively together takes work.
‘Rich Man and the Poor Man’ and ‘Worker’s Song’ underline how much substance sits beneath the revelry. Money, labour and who gets left carrying the burden are woven into the set, with choruses that invite everyone to have their say. ‘Building Up and Tearing England Down’ brings the Irish migrant experience into focus, its subject matter giving the communal singing extra weight. These songs have histories, and the Wallopers understand how to make those histories feel close enough to touch.
That political streak runs naturally into newer material such as ‘Landlord’s Demise’. Their irreverence gives the anger somewhere to go, and the humour keeps it human. They understand how much can be said through a song that people actually want to sing. Even in the most boisterous passages, there is usually a line worth catching beneath the racket.
Then ‘Cod Liver Oil and the Orange Juice’ arrives with the sort of welcome reserved for an old drinking companion. Its storytelling and rolling phrasing are perfectly suited to this setting, giving the voices out front plenty to get hold of. The singing becomes part of the arrangement, ragged around the edges and all the better for it. ‘The Juice’ adds another burst of momentum, showing how comfortably the newer songs can share the same space.
The closing pairing of ‘Banks of the Roses’ and ‘Frost Is All Over’ leaves little room for a gentle landing. The pace rises, the tunes tumble forward and the room gives back whatever energy it has left. It is an exuberant finish, carried by the same feeling of shared ownership that has run through the evening.
The Mary Wallopers are making bigger stages feel like a natural home. Their musicianship gives the songs their force; their humour and conviction give people a reason to care. Leeds gets the full combination tonight, delivered with enough warmth and bite to make the journey home feel considerably quieter.