Preaching to the converted

Since acquiring an online following during the first Covid lockdown, indie-rock newcomers Lovejoy reflect on the challenge they were faced with: to win over their fan base IRL

- MARK BEAUMONT

WHEN THE 1,500 W teenagers crammed into Brixton Electric scream and boy, do they scream - it's with the celebratory thrill of finding the Golden Ticket, the jackpot scratch card, the rarest Pokémon. After two years of tracking them down through obscure open mikes and unsigned nights, they've finally found the band.

"We did a few secret, underground pseudo-gigs under false names at the beginning," says Lovejoy singer William Gold, ears still ringing from the roof-lifting response to his band's first full-on European tour, taking in everywhere from Glasgow to Gdansk. After becoming a YouTube sensation during lockdown - with 1.3 million subscribers and streams into the tens of millions, but zero gigs under their belts what this humble indie-rock four-piece from Brighton didn't want to do was "a really crap gig in front of a massive crowd and completely bomb", explains Gold.

For their first gig, they were Lamp With Sock. For their second, they chose ASBO Barbeque, "because they banned barbecues on the beach in Brighton, which I thought was ridiculous". But by the time they took the stage for their third-ever show, as Ouija Board Madness, they'd been rumbled.

"The fan base had cottoned onto the fact that we were playing under the pseudonyms," says bassist Ash Kabosu, "and were actively seeking line-ups with bands on that they couldn't find any information about and just turning up to the shows. By the third show, it was sold out. It was wall-to-wall, everyone's going crazy. We did zero advertising whatsoever, and they found us."