SARAH/SHAUN AT THE VOODOO ROOMS: WHO JUST WANTS TO SURVIVE?

LIVE REVIEW | SARAH/SHAUN | THE VOODOO ROOMS, EDINBURGH | 16th September 2026 by Bryden Churchmichael

A road case sat on stage at The Voodoo Rooms with SURVIVE! written across it in green. It sat there all night. By the end, it was the only word I had.

I need to say where I was at going in, because this review doesn’t make sense without it. Like a lot of us right now, I’ve been struggling with family and home life, and sound, and crowds have been getting on top of me. That’s gutting when you can zoom out and know it’s not really “you” showing up like that. But it’s still you. I’m not going into the rest of it here. It’s enough to say it was there.

And I made it to Sarah/Shaun, a band that’s been a pivotal part of my healing.

It was my fourth time seeing them and my mate’s third – seven between us. I found them back in May at Leith Cricket Club, supporting Logan’s Close, another band that means a lot to me. The last time was Fringe by the Sea in North Berwick last month, supporting Maribou State, and we hadn’t seen each other once since, despite living ten minutes apart. Shaun told me before the show that Fringe by the Sea had been a dream. It was the most people they’d ever played in front of, the tent full to the brim. We’d both been in that tent, then let a month go by. A band got us back in the same room. That’s the thing about music that’s sacred to me: art can bring people together when maybe nothing else could.

The plan was an interview. I met Shaun after soundcheck, and we grabbed a wee seat. I was drained and anxious, and it got emotional, and I forgot to hit record. So what you’re getting from him here is what I remember, not what I taped.

The name Sarah/Shaun reads like a husband-and-wife duo, and Sarah and Shaun McLachlan are married. But on stage they’re six. Shaun and Ali “Jaguar Eyes” Chisholm co-produce from a home studio, with Ryan Marinello on drums, Cameron Gilles on bass and bass synth, and Daniel McGeever on synth, percussion and guitar. He called the band superheroes and beautiful humans. The studio is for the luxuries, the brass and choirs and strings, the organic instruments, and there’ll be more of that on the album. Then they put it out, and it stops belonging to the band. It belongs to whoever needs it and hears it.

The room got too much for me before they came on, so my mate and I went away and came back. I missed the support, and I feel bad about that.

The band took the stage to ‘Intro’. Shaun describes it as their own version of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’, which he calls the most beautiful song ever and one that relates to anyone.

Then ‘Dust Tears’. It’s a dance track with a meditative trance effect, and the lyrics arrive as questions. “How can anyone feel so lonely when all they have is love and care?” For me, it tied straight into how I’ve been feeling, and how a lot of us feel more and more. It’s really something when an artist is that on the money and uses it for healing and acceptance. It’s not trying to give you an answer, other than what we all already know and need: connection, love, someone to talk to.

The set ran through the EPs with tracks like ‘Debbie Harry’ and ‘It’s True What They Say?’ to ‘Anhedonia’, with samples filling the gaps between songs. Projected spots of light drifted across the screen and over Sarah, in sequins and a purple pleated cape she opened out like wings. Fairy lights were wrapped round the drum kit, under all that gold cornicing. There were band members pointing to the sound desk for more on their monitors, as you get at a lot of gigs. We’re all human. The whole set felt like a tension that was already in the room, brought forward and built up to the point of release.

I spent a lot of that gig low and anxious, a tear in my eye most of the way through. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I found ways of moving my feet instead. I wanted the room to pick me up, and it didn’t. It was a static crowd, the kind of night that’s there to be watched rather than joined in with. Midweek in Edinburgh, maybe that’s just what you get.

The release came with ‘Who Just Wants to Survive?’. Shaun went at his guitar with a violin bow, fast and frantic, back and forward, up and down, for a couple of minutes. He was slaying it like the bow was a sword, with the lights flashing on and off. Sarah was dancing and singing, moving the wings. The noise kept building. Then it cut, and they stopped.

I cheered. Then I just stood there next to my mate and felt it go. I realised I can’t keep going on like this. I have to get myself back. I’d lost myself. Fourth time hearing these songs, and they’ve done a different job every time. This time they did that one.

Afterwards we grabbed a couple of setlists. Shaun told me he’d been almost in bits up there, thinking about our chat, and admitted they’d struggled. I told him nothing about it felt off to me. It didn’t. Then my mate and I had a wee chat outside before heading home.

Shaun told me the album is coming in Spring 2027. He said it like the season was the point.

The song asks who just wants to survive. I took it as: you have to try and survive. But what about living?