Photos by Nathan Rifkin
I’ve never been to a concert quite like this one, and I’m not sure I ever will. Mon Rovîa’s music speaks to the soul, whose voice is an uplifting focal point of hope during dark times. His brilliant lyricism combined with effortless vocals and harmonious backing creates a beautiful atmosphere and performance.
I was taking photos during the first three songs of his set, which gave me the opportunity to get a front row seat for the beginning of the concert. Mon Rovîa favors the ukulele and plays it with delicate precision, matching the lilting tone of his voice. His live backing includes guitars, piano, vocals, and more, with Tyler Martelli on guitar and Sam Hudgens on bass.
Mon Rovîa’s alias originates from his birthplace in Monrovia, Liberia. He was born Janjay Lowe and was adopted into an American family when he was seven. A lot of his music revolves around the conflict in his hometown and his intimate journey of coming to grips with his identity.
Framed by blue and purple lights, Mon Rovîa played “Running Boy” with a smile, contrasting the lyrics “And the cops showed up but I didn’t get shot.” The backing guitar was ethereal, floating underneath his voice as he sang, “Running boy / Someday you might dance again.”
To make the concert even more special, Mon Rovîa introduced most of his songs with a backstory and social commentary, noting the significance of these song in the broader political context of the current day. Mon Rovîa brought Sydney Rose, who opened for the tour, back on stage for “Pantheon,” which he introduced with:
“‘Pantheon’ encourages me to remember that first you do this work for the ones that are close to you, for the ones that you love. And then, as you continue forward, you realize that you’re also doing it for those that you don’t know all across the world when you stand up, when you build beautiful things and connect. You’re saving people that you don’t even know and that’s the most important thing: that we’re all connected.”
Several beautiful songs followed, with the audience joining in on the last chorus of “Oh Wide World.” Mon Rovîa took a break from singing to introduce “Whose Face Am I,” speaking on how his adoption and lack of connection with his birth parents led him to create this masterpiece.
“It’s a difficult thing to come to terms with, to not know somebody that created you, that you have all these things inside you from. This song goes out to all those out there who experienced something similar.”
Learning the backstory of a song and what led an artist to translate that backstory into music always makes me incredibly grateful. I love when artists open up about their creative process and how their music came to be. The backstory for this song was even more interesting because I had always interpreted the song as speaking to the loneliness that comes with not knowing who your soulmate is. To me, the line “Whose face am I” made me reflect on who I belonged to, the face I would spend my life with. It’s beautiful how each of our lived experiences can contribute to an interpretation of a song, even if the intended meaning is different.
Mon Rovîa’s band came together as an ensemble for “Infinite Pines,” gathered around an old style microphone. The entire room was alight with a sense of joy and togetherness as each member came up to the mic for a solo.
Unity. I can think of no other word to describe this concert, specifically for his performance of “crooked the road.,” my all-time favorite. Sam Hudgens sang the first verse as Mon Rovîa tuned his ukulele, singing with a voice that was as smooth as anything I’ve ever heard.
“Twenty-five years, I know / You’ve been unraveling”
Mon Rovîa rounded out a stellar night with his most popular song, “Heavy Foot,” encouraging us to sing along for the fourth verse:
“Do you see the man on the screen
Just a puppet but you never see the strings
Calling it a war ‘n not a genocide
Telling us it isn’t what it seems
Man that’s a different kind of greed”
Mon Rovîa is an artist unburdened by ego. He is unafraid to speak the truth in his music and sees his art as a way to promote humanity, connection, and love. The world may be burning around us and people may seem more disconnected from each other than ever in this digital age, but for two hours in a concert hall last Wednesday, everything else was quiet and love conquered all.
Listen to Mon Rovîa here:
