In early March, I embarked on a bumper-to-bumper drive from LA to OC and decided to turn on War Child Records’ brand new HELP(2) album, a sequel charity project raising funds for children in war. The project is stacked with my favorites — The Last Dinner Party, beabadoobee, Big Thief, Wet Leg and Olivia Rodrigo — so I knew I would be entertained through the worst of traffic. However, the penultimate track “Sunday Light” featured four unfamiliar names: Anna Calvi, Ellie Rowsell, Nilüfer Yanya, and none other than Irish indie-folk artist, Dove Ellis. Soon the streaming algorithm did what it does best and introduced me to “Little Left Hope,” the opener on Ellis’s debut album, Blizzard. I became addicted and immediately looked up when I could see him play. Alas, on a surprisingly cold Wednesday evening, I drove through the gates of Hollywood Forever cemetery and found myself nestled in a crowd of every color hair dye, men with silver hoops, and an overwhelming scent of vintage stores… any indie fan’s dream.
It was not my first time in the Masonic Lodge but the eeriness of a cemetery concert venue somehow stuns me each time. British trio, Mary in the Junkyard, kicked off the night with reverberating drums, siren-like vocals, and the pull of a viola. Vocalist Clari Freeman-Taylor sang sweetly to the crowd as we swayed in hypnosis to the howls in setting-suited “ghost.” While they had never been to the state before touring, the set ended with tight acapella harmonies in their self-proclaimed disstrack: “this is my california.”
The room was heating (quite literally) with anticipation as Dove Ellis, born Thomas O’ Donoghue, pushed through the back of the crowd to the small, luminous stage. He opened with “The Royal Brown Hole” on bass accompanied by Mary and the Junkyard’s viola player, Saya Barbaglia, along with drums, guitar, and a clarinet. Despite a humble stance, his voice boomed with such strength that there was not a phone in near sight, demanding the audience’s attention. Having recently performed with Geese on their 2025 tour, his sound was clearly reminiscent of college radio’s beloved Cameron Winters, but with bright folk elements infused. He then went into his most streamed, “Pale Song,” a poetic count of a haunted past. As he slowly sang “When You Tie Your Hair Up,” he looked longingly into space as if watching someone walk away. I could feel the earnest pain in his vibrato and the stillness between lines. Standing merely a few feet away from Ellis on the floor, the intimacy of his performance and the shyness of his movements made me feel like an intruder.
While his music cannot be limited by genre, each song tells a story and follows a melodic journey. Dove Ellis is a storyteller by nature, embodying characters through his words. The sheer power of his voice transcends each narrative, reminding me at times of the great Freddie Mercury. A personal standout, “Heaven Has No Wings” began with a teasing intro. Soft descriptive lyricism loomed in the air before allowing the other instruments to grow at the chorus as he humbly proclaims, “We all catch falcons / We’ve all got meat on our hands.” “Little Left Hope” felt brighter on stage than its slightly somber recording. I watched his open guitar cords pushed up by the capo and was comforted by gentle harmonies.
Characterized by a soft piano introduction and cinematic melodies, “Love Is” stood out upon my first listen and has since sparked much reflection in my own life. He builds with “Love is not the antidote to all your problems,” and chant-sings that love is not “keeping it loose,” love is not “what’s in your dreams,” and love is not “mapped by quotations and it’s not what it seems.” While on paper, his words may seem melancholic, Dove Ellis sang with assurance and ease, finding himself before stunned faces and applause. Overwhelmed by adoration, he introduced the band but shied away from saying his own name into the microphone.
He traded his electric guitar for an acoustic guitar in “To The Sandals,” which felt earthy and full of yearning. He then stood solo in front of the crowd and played an unreleased track. The room hushed, all eyes pointing towards the dimly lit keyboard on the left side of the stage. Here, his gentle vibrato echoed, and his falsetto silenced the room as we stood laser-focused on Dove Ellis’s every move. As the final key rang, the person behind me muttered what we had all been thinking: “Wow.” The final song for the night, “Away You Stride,” describes a shy kind of love waiting for someone to come back to you. As he sang, he glanced above us as if looking for a specific someone in the room. He sweetly professed, “I cut off my heart, I’m hoping to spend it on you,” crescendoing his last note to fullness.
For a man with so little about him on the internet, Dove Ellis deserves to be known. His humility is honorable, but his music is rich in character, and his voice is full of life. Just as Dove Ellis sings, “Remember me in action, don’t remember me in space,” surely everyone in attendance will do just that.
Listen to Dove Ellis’s debut album, Blizzard:
