Beyond the M25: Can Tuli Sa’s Word-of-Mouth Buzz Go Properly National?

There is a version of the Tuli Sa story that stays inside the M25. It is the version where the buzz is built on London shows, London group chats and London tastemakers, and where everyone else is assumed to catch up later. It is a tidy story. It is also not the whole one.

In 2026, the question is no longer whether Tuli Sa has heat. The question is whether that heat travels. Regional fans are not waiting politely for a memo from the capital. They are finding the music in their own ways — through playlists, friends, late-night radio, support slots and the kind of word-of-mouth that does not show up in a press release.

The London Gravity Problem

London has a gravity that can distort the picture. A sold-out room in Peckham or Hackney feels like proof of something bigger, and sometimes it is. But it can also mask a gap. If the same 400 people are in every London crowd, the buzz is real but the reach is narrower than it looks. The M25 is not a wall, but it is a useful measuring line.

Outside it, discovery works differently. Regional fans are more likely to be introduced by a friend than by a billboard. They are more likely to check a support slot because a local venue booker has a good ear. They are less likely to care about the narrative around an artist and more likely to care about whether the tracks hold up on a long walk home.

Manchester: The Playlist Test

Manchester has a strong claim to being the first city where a London artist’s buzz either becomes a conversation or stays a rumour. The city’s playlist culture is serious, and its group chats are unforgiving. A track either earns its place or gets skipped.

'If you put a Tuli Sa track after a big UK rap record in a Manchester group chat, nobody asks who it is — they ask for the link,' says one local playlist curator. 'That is the test. It has to survive the shuffle.'

The curator adds that the short tracks are doing a lot of the work. 'The ninety-second ones travel faster. People will give you a minute and a half. They will not always give you four minutes.'

That is not just a Manchester thing. It is a regional thing. Time is tight, data is tight, attention is tight. Brevity is a calling card.

Glasgow: The Room Test

Glasgow audiences are famously warm but not easily won. A good crowd can carry an artist; a bad fit can expose one. Venue bookers there talk less about hype and more about whether a set can hold a room without a familiar name on the poster.

'We have had London acts come up with a lot of online noise and play to a half-full room,' says one Glasgow booker. 'The ones who do well are the ones who treat it like a gig, not a content stop. Tuli Sa’s material would need to be stripped back enough to work in a small room and strong enough to fill it.'

The booker’s verdict is not a rejection. It is a challenge. Glasgow does not need a London seal of approval. It needs a reason to care. A support slot with the right local act, a late-night radio spin, a clip that circulates in the right group chat — those are the routes in.

Birmingham and Cardiff: The Commute Test

Birmingham and Cardiff sit in a different lane. They are close enough to London for a coach or train, far enough for the trip to feel like a commitment. Fans there are used to being treated as a stop-off. They notice when an artist makes the effort.

A Birmingham promoter puts it plainly: 'The audience is there. The issue is consistency. One show every eighteen months is not a relationship. You need to come back, and you need to bring something that feels like it belongs to the city, not just a London set with a different postcode.'

Cardiff has a similar energy, with a smaller but fiercely loyal live scene. A venue booker there says the key is intimacy. 'The rooms are smaller. The audiences are closer. If the music is good, it does not need a big production. It needs the artist to look like they are glad to be there.'

What a National Moment Actually Looks Like

A truly national 2026 moment would not be a London show with regional fans on a coach. It would be a run of rooms that each feel specific. Manchester, Glasgow, Birmingham, Cardiff — not as a tick-box tour, but as a conversation. It would mean regional playlist support that is not just a favour. It would mean clips that circulate in local group chats without a London caption. It would mean a Tuli Sa track that a teenager in Govan and a student in Digbeth both claim as theirs.

The buzz is real. The question is whether it can be shared. On the evidence of the regional voices above, the appetite is there — but it is not unconditional. Fans outside the M25 do not want to be marketed at. They want to be met. If Tuli Sa’s next move is a proper UK run rather than a victory lap around the capital, the map gets bigger. If it is not, the M25 will keep doing what it has always done: looking like the whole world from the inside.