LUVCAT // TRINITY, BRISTOL
A Fever-Dream Performance That Leaves Claw Marks
⭐⭐⭐⭐(4/5)
LUVCAT AT TRINITY, BRISTOL
PHOTOCREDIT: ROSIE RISDALE
With the sky heavy with the promise of rain, I walked into the iconic Trinity Centre—the 193-year-old church that now hosts the UK and beyond’s top acts several times a week. That night, I was transformed by the mighty Luvcat, the Liverpool-born singer–songwriter who flips the femme fatale trope on its head. Think Adam and the Ants with a touch of Amy Winehouse; I was transfixed from the moment she appeared.
The venue was already packed when I arrived, queues snaking in even as I entered. The air buzzed with anticipation. The stage was dressed in tasseled lamps, wine-bottle candles, and a checkerboard floor. As a first-time listener of Luvcat, I was immediately drawn to the meticulous attention to detail—the theatricality of the “set” evoking an old-school Parisian jazz bar.
With the lampshades flickering in time with an enticing beat, Sophie Morgan Howarth entered alongside her sharply dressed band, glass of red in hand. The room was already electric before she even sang a note. She opened with “Lipstick,” a track steeped in kink, lust, and a kind of mysticism rarely seen on stage. The moment she began to sing about a man who called her “Doll,” the entire room was hooked. The song felt like a portal into a warped yet strangely relatable world of escapism and melodrama—one that seemed to nestle neatly into each audience member’s psyche.
I loved the way Howarth and her band guided the room. Longtime fans—clearly there from the very beginning—sang along with wild devotion all night. Luvcat became the embodiment of relationships old and new: their fiery beginnings, their tangled endings. Her lyrics hit me right in the chest. Standout songs that have since made it onto my playlist include “Spider,” “Love and Money,” and my personal favourite of the evening, “Emma Dilemma”—a sharp and candid song about her mum’s best friend that dives unflinchingly into infidelity and the complexities of modern love.
I’m honestly thrilled that I chose not to listen to her beforehand; the combination of warm lighting and her rich, crooning vocals kept me on my toes from start to finish. Another highlight was “He’s My Man,” a track full of possessive energy, sung with a visceral, slightly haunting edge. She tells the story of loving someone so intensely you’d poison them just to keep them. Gone are the days of keeping intrusive thoughts to yourself—Luvcat says the quiet parts out loud, and her audience revels in it.
Overall, I was in awe of this Liverpudlian’s stage presence: her connection with an obviously devoted fanbase, her hilarious and humble anecdotes about the band’s early days—the 3am McDonald’s trips, the empty rooms, the relentless grind. Luvcat keeps both her real self and her theatrical alter ego refreshingly transparent, and I’m incredibly excited to see where this wildly talented artist goes next.
REVIEW + PHOTOS BY: ROSIE RISDALE
