Madra Salach are highly skilled at reinterpreting classic Irish folk themes through a contemporary lens, be it in the story of a man who’s convinced he’s found his ticket out of poverty in ‘Blue & Gold’ or their covers of songs such as ‘Spancil Hill’ that implicitly comment on the current state of Irish emigration. The lyrics of ‘Ribbon Factory’ are up for interpretation, but the twinned imagery of children and physical labour, as well as the narrator’s desperation, isolation, and lack of identity, suggest that the song explores Ireland’s horrifying history of misogynistic institutions, namely the Magdalene Laundries and mother and baby homes. The band noted that the single is “a uniquely Irish song and is wrought with anger and despair”, and the accompanying music video features images of run-down institutions, faceless children, and Catholic churches. 

The music and lyrics work in tandem on ‘Ribbon Factory’, as the repeated riffs and chords that the guitar, mandolin, bass, and harmonium play throughout the song create an intense and oppressive atmosphere that echoes vocalist Paul Banks’s devastating howl of “This place is cavin’ in on top of me.” Banks has made a name for himself as a passionate, distinctive performer, and ‘Ribbon Factory’ is his best and rawest performance yet. He convinces the listener that he means every single word, that this story is his story. Like the rest of the band’s catalogue, this song is so poetic and authentic to the Irish folk tradition that it sounds like it could have been written fifty years ago. 

Madra Salach establish once again on this track that they’re particularly talented musicians and arrangers, from Maxime Arnold’s unsettling harmonium solo to the discordant notes Jack Martin strikes on the mandolin in the outro, backed by Dara Duffy’s crashing drums. 

With ‘Ribbon Factory’, they prove that they’re already fulfilling their enormous potential. Irish folk — and Irish music more broadly — is in great hands.