PHOTOS & REVIEW: LOVEJOY @ ROYALE 6/6
Photos & Words by: Kathryn Harmon
The realization hits me somewhere between following the block-and-a-half long line to enter The Royale and watching someone burst into tears of excitement in front of me at the box office- I am woefully out of my league.
Armed only with a DSLR, my phone at half battery, a pack of gum, and wide, unbelieving eyes, I watch as fans rush into The Royale and stake their claim on the floor. I scrape my hand on a wall in my haste to follow the crowd into the venue and ask a bartender for a Band-Aid. Once she sees my photo pass, she leans in conspiratorially. “Do you have any idea who these guys are? My niece is here, but I’ve never heard of them,” she confides.
Yes, I have definitely heard of Lovejoy. Truth be told, I’ve been listening to their music since their first EP, “Are You Alright?”. So I give her the rundown: Lovejoy was started by Joe Goldsmith, the guitarist, and Will Gold, the frontman, in 2021. Ash Kabosu, the bassist, was apparently recruited in a burger shop because he was carrying a guitar, and Mark Boardman, the drummer, was hired off of Fiverr. The motley crew of musicians, joined on the US tour by Jackie Coleman on trumpet, started by playing gigs under pseudonyms before launching into a packed and incredibly successful UK tour. Every show on both their UK and US tours has sold out within hours.
The line (which the bartender tells me was already down the street at 7 AM that morning) can mainly be explained by Will Gold’s popularity on websites like YouTube and Twitch under the pseudonym Wilbur Soot. During COVID lockdown, Gold streamed himself playing video games and interacting with viewers from an office in Brighton, England, garnering hundreds of thousands of live viewers every day. Fans of Lovejoy, who are usually also fans of Gold’s online content, are an overwhelmingly young, female, queer, and/or neurodivergent group. I overhear one of the many parents dragged to the venue grumble to his wife that they’re all “teenyboppers,” but the Lovejoy crowd is much more than that. A group of people used to ridicule and embarrassment for their interests all find safety in The Royale, comforted that they are in good company in what one fan described to me as “a crowd of people who hate crowds.”
In the hour before the show, the room is abuzz with friendly conversation. I overhear reunions between fans that had only met over social media, gushing compliments about outfits, soaring laughter, squeals of disbelieving excitement, and, to my surprise, bits. Since the fanbase is so virtual, chants, jokes, and calls-and-responses have spread (pardon the pun) virally throughout
Lovejoy’s shows, chanting other YouTubers’ names or starting singalongs. The security officers’ eyes are starting to twitch about 15 minutes in as they slowly learn that the screaming is just created by the crowd itself. Lovejoy’s audience is like a firestorm- self-sustaining, passionate, and unrelenting.
Once the openers come out, the crowd is surprisingly respectful and unsurprisingly enthusiastic. Spilly Cave is first, a Philly-based group with a smooth, jazzy sound. The members match the crowd’s energy perfectly, jumping and dancing and laughing with the crowd between songs. Next on is Crywank, who is very self aware of their position as a lone acoustic performer right before Lovejoy. This doesn’t stop them from putting their whole heart into the soul-crushing,
morose lyrics that set them apart from the other acts while keeping a light attitude. Crywank has had a huge influence on Lovejoy, being cited as a lyrical inspiration by Gold over the years and even becoming self-proclaimed “best friends” with Lovejoy’s drummer, Mark Boardman. Both openers are well-received by the crowd, providing sonic compliments to the headline act that would seem contradictory in any other setting.
As the background music and house lights dim at about 9:05, a chorus of deafening screams awaits Lovejoy as Goldsmith, Kabosu, Boardman, and Coleman wave to the audience, set up their instruments, and fail to hide their smiles. There’s an air of anticipation, a breath held, as people realize who’s missing.
Enter Will Gold, striding onstage in a black button-up with Alex-Turner-esque flair. Screams that seemingly couldn’t get louder immediately do. As he plugs in his guitar, Gold is all smiles, watching the audience as adoringly as they watch him. It’s hard to avoid being a little star-struck by the group. The crowd’s energy next to the band’s command over the stage makes it seem like Lovejoy was made to be rockstars.
Their set roars to life with ‘You’ll Understand When You’re Older,’ a song from the EP ‘Pebblebrain’. This song, like most of Lovejoy’s music, hits a few common lyrical themes- British culture and politics, apathy, and a cynical view on love. Despite being upbeat, their songs carry an air of melancholy, a complexity that coexists with the catchy guitar riffs and melodies. Lovejoy’s witty lyrics and synthesization of musical inspirations like Arctic Monkeys, Bombay Bicycle Club, Two Door Cinema Club, and Los Campesinos! presents an outsider’s look into the minutiae of life in the UK by recounting stories of lost love and disenchantment. And the audience knows every word. Even Gold comments how surprised he is at that. Gold talks to the audience after every song, whether it’s an explanation of the next song, an anecdote about his experiences on tour, or a quip at his own expense. The audience hangs on his every word, laughing and cheering in response.
The show goes by in a thunderous blur. Echoes of screaming fans, ear-ringing bass, screaming trumpet, Gold’s laughter, and camera shutters seem to haunt the Royale long after the crowd has filtered into the pouring rain outside. I hear the same phrase I’ve heard about Lovejoy since they debuted dart across the crowd. “One day,” they gasp to a friend or parent, “these guys might be playing stadiums, and I can say I saw their first tour.” The band has been declared an up-and-coming band to watch by multiple publications, including Rolling Stone and Dork, and as they enter their first festival season in the UK this summer, a lot of eyes will be on their performances. Lovejoy has their fingers on the pulse of a niche online world. Their success, then, is evidence of that world’s incarnation into the mainstream, a rare victor over the thousands of bands trying to balance virality with reality. When- not if- Lovejoy returns to the US, the spectacle will not be one to miss.
You can stream Lovejoy’s latest six-song EP, “Wake Up & It’s Over,” anywhere music is found.