I got to Mercury Lounge as Lovejoy’s opening band Rebounder was playing their second-to-last song, a cover of Peter Bjorn and John’s “Young Folks” which circa 2007 to 2010, every TV show including The Hills, Gossip Girl, and Grey’s Anatomy was practically legally obligated to feature in an episode. “Young Folks” is a synecdoche representing the ethos of that time period—nostalgia, looking back, repurposing, being cute. Today’s indie sleaze movement doubles down on this ethos as it references the source of it, and Rebounder wants in.
“What are your influences?” I asked three Rebounder bandmates at the bar after their set.
“Lykke Li, Sky Ferreira, early Arctic Monkeys.”
“Oh, so you’re cashing in on the 2010s renaissance.”
“Actually, we started two years ago, so we’re not cashing in!”
“Oh, I see, you started the movement,” I joked, and laid the charm a little thicker after this misstep. But there was no need to be worried about offending. The band name “Rebounder” established the vibe of this concert for me: the bands we were there to see were certified loverboys, but not the first choice—perhaps the ones who get the girl post-breakup, who’s still in love with someone else and trying to get over it, heartbroken rather than heartbreakers, second choice, betas. Their insistence on covers only furthered this impression. The last song moved from their own original chorus to that of “Scrubs” by TLC. A sense of recycling at this concert ran large from the get-go.
Lovejoy, the feature band, is a repurposing of celebrity career. The lead singer/songwriter, Wilbur Soot, is an internet-famous Twitch streamer, in the same circles as Dream, who made waves this year when he emerged from anonymity. I am not of Gen-Z and I’m not in on the appeal of watching a stranger play video games. But 6.34 million subscribers to Wilbur Soot on Youtube alone get what I don’t—whether that’s his gaming, music, or charm. The music video for the song “Soft Boy” begins with Wilbur sputtering out of the ocean, clambering from the waves onto the sand and standing soaked and dripping in an anime-printed hoodie, a modern-day Venus, a nerdy teen girl’s fantasy, being born out of the Brighton sea. At the concert I asked a few audience members who the hottie of the band was and they all eagerly answered, Wilbur! It makes sense that this “Venus as a Boy” is exactly who a newly pubescent girl raised by the internet would find infatuating (especially in gender-bendy 2022): a clean, absolutely non-threatening kouros with a pretty smile and zero hint of facial hair. It’s not lost on me that the chorus lyrics to “Soft Boy” are “Still I won’t wear the cat ears, I won’t wear the cat ears,” which is a moment of self-awareness, Wilbur knowing what image he is presenting but still trying to claim a shred of masculine dignity.
Lovejoy’s sound matches its image: youthful, optimistic, naive. Imagine layers of squeaky clean guitars, a bubble-wrapped version of British post-punk revival finding influence in The Kooks and The Pigeon Detectives. The four-piece band occasionally upped to five onstage with the punctuation of a few songs by a horn, evoking some of my favorite twee music acts from fifteen years ago.
The sheer happiness and excitement of the concert touched me. The previous night was the first American show Lovejoy had ever played, this being the whole band’s first time in the US. Already enjoying great popularity with well over a million streams, Lovejoy is supposedly set on a 2023 breakout with more music and touring to come. At the Mercury Lounge concert they played all thirteen songs in their arsenal of two EPs and a single.
Pebble Brain is their most recent release; Soot has situated it in the “breakup album” genre, but let the scorned lover be England. With one song a critique of Boris Johnson, another imagining the breakdown happening underneath the cold exterior of British bluebloods, the album logs grievances much the same way you do with an ex before the final goodbyes are said. There is a fighting energy to the album, although it’s a little hard to believe these are fighting guys.
I think their first EP, Are You Alright? is better, and the source of both highlights of the show for me with the songs “Sex Sells” and “Taunt.” The chorus melody of “Sex Sells” soars, making the most out of a chord progression they use in a few songs, and had the whole crowd jumping. For its sheer catchiness, one can almost forgive the cringy line “I know she’s not there, I know she’s going to his flat, a Capricorn, oh fuck that.” “Taunt” delivered another unique chorus, with lyrics about being in love with a popular girl. Turns out their songs are best when they stick to teeny loverboy themes. Bestowed with such a fanatic and adoring fanbase (that even run Twitter accounts of Lovejoy updates), Soot can and should write more songs where listeners can imagine their heartthrob is crooning about them and their complicated but endearing relationship.
Like the vlogs and streams that let millions peer into the average person’s life, Lovejoy’s music is transparent and personal. It’s also generic since it needs to be likable and inoffensive. Not to stereotype, but I have a feeling I can guess the political leanings of the audience of chunky glasses wearers and colored hair. Under the pressure of keeping fans, it makes sense to err on the side of bland. After all, it’s not only the band at stake, it’s also Wilbur Soot’s Twitch career, and whatever other media career he pursues next. Still, we’re left to wonder what Capricorns did to deserve that one.
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