Country music star Nathan Carter plays at Castlerea prison – but not to the prisoners

Nathan Carter is in prison getting his mugshot taken. He’s standing against the wall with the height markings. “That chart is wrong,” says his brother, singer and Dancing with the Stars alumnus Jake Carter. “There’s no way you’re six foot.”

Nathan Carter, the Liverpudlian county crooner, is “locked up”. That’s what the press release says. He’s following in the footsteps of Johnny Cash, playing a prison concert at Castlerea medium security prison in Co Roscommon.

From a big stone church to the left of the main part of the prison comes the sound of twanging guitars and booming drums. Nathan Carter is at a glittery baby grand piano sound checking with his band.

Two prison officers, Officer Bolton and ACO (assistant chief officer) Butler start doing an expert jive (the prisoners don’t know prison officers’ first names so we’ve been asked not to share them here). “We’re a country prison,” says officer Bolton, now a little out of breath. “Country music is very big around here.”

The concert is a charity event, in aid of the paediatric ward in Sligo General Hospital, Roscommon Youth Services and Mayo Roscommon Hospice. The governor, Theresa Beirne, is a country music fan, and quickly references Johnny Cash’s well-known performances at Folsom Prison and San Quentin. “Johnny Cash at San Quentin has 10.3 million views [online],” she says. “That might be Nathan.”

There are 389 prisoners in Castlerea (the capacity is technically just 340; overcrowding is a big issue) but they are not present at the concert. The concert will later be piped into their cells on the prison TV station usually used for educational and informational programming. On Liveline this week some callers suggested it was unfair that the prisoners, unlike the prison staff and their families, couldn’t attend the gig in person.

Beirne said the event was always meant to be primarily for charity and a tribute to the hard work of staff but that the prisoners rowed in to help prepare everything and even raised €600 among themselves.

The gig is happening because Nathan Carter’s tour manager, Gerard Butler, is the brother of jiving ACO Butler. “He asked if Nathan would play,” says Gerard, and adds teasingly: “He begged me.”

“I sold my soul,” says ACO Butler, shaking his head, in faux regret.

On the tour of the prison, Carter and his band are quiet and respectful. It feels a little eerie because most of the prisoners are in their cells having tea. The corridors echo. The staff talk about the importance of education and vocational training and how hard the prisoners work and how skilled they are.

There are occasional jokes. “Where’s the hot tub?” asks Carter on being shown the processing area of the prison. When the band get their pictures taken behind a locked gate. Officer Bolton briefly pretends she can’t open it. “Only messing,” she says. We go to the horticulture area where prisoners are growing vegetables and flowers. “Not cannabis,” says Carter jokingly later. We visit a barber’s shop where prisoners are cutting each other’s hair. “How much for a haircut?” asks Jake.

It feels strange to be in a prison and not hear from any of the prisoners who live there. They feel like the real story. Nathan Carter and the rest of us are just passing through.

Carter clearly finds the whole experience a bit strange too but he’s at a point in his career where he’s trying to challenge himself, he says. “It’s probably the most random gig I’ve ever done but I’m very glad to be doing it.” Later, he turns to Governor Beirne and says: “Taylor Swift’s next, isn’t she?”