A couple of weeks ago, on the night before her debut Vicious Delicious released, Luvcat played a show at Liverpool’s Kazamier Garden. It was a lovely, charming little time, paired with a pre-Halloween celebration that dressed the space up as a union between Alice In Wonderland and a Parisian café. Most of all, though, it felt like something of a crash course for what Luvcat will be with a full body of work in the world. Even for that stripped-down set, Sophie Morgan had star quality to burn, in a form that’s unlike anyone else in pop or indie today. The smoke-stained, slightly unstable vintage is woven in her DNA, so much so that the effort gone into decking out a beer garden to present it is a considerable step further than most would go. There’s also the fact that the listening public seem really enthusiastic about Luvcat, even pre-album release. Now that it is here—and, subsequently, is one of the best things to come out in 2025—the heat can feel all the more significant.
It matches nicely with a return to Liverpool for the full, finished production, compared to last month’s hometown dress rehearsal. That was more of its own special teaser of what’s baked into Luvcat’s alt-pop theatre. In this final state, checkboard flooring is overlaid on the stage, with a crescent-moon cutout, a piano and old-style lamps and lighting for its vintage theatricality. Fitting for the Luvcat lore, there’s a quasi-French feel to it all, despite the O2 Academy being…completely incongruous with that, frankly. Compared to the plush climes of London’s KOKO for the previous night’s show, there are incalculably more liberties to be taken in the intended vibe to come through. Still, the work goes in; this rather drab room does see its returns.
And if there’s anyone to set the correct tone (and arguably take it far past its prescribed limit), it’s Attic Girl. In what’s more a performance art piece than a traditional set, our costumed main character is onstage alone, fielding cues from the narrative and showy pop-rock piped out behind her. The vibe is very ‘if Halsey were (even more of) a theatre kid’, with a lot of wide movements and facial expressions that can prove a little difficult to map onto a setting like this. You’d have be the least observant person alive to not notice the disconnect between venom-tipped performo-pop missives onstage, and the casual chatter on the floor that treats it as backing music. Regardless, there’s something here, particularly in a My Chemical Romance-like pocket that’s easily the most gripping and exuberant this whole thing gets, musically and visually. In its own space—something like a fringe festival set, maybe?—Attic Girl definitely has the potential to be tweaked and tinkered into such an interesting find.
There are points for uniqueness, as well, and how someone like this is an objectively correct choice to open for Luvcat. It’s not like anyone else in a ‘standard’ sense comes close to what’s being offered, where the pin-up look underscored with tangible grit and grime remains its perfect, singular crux. Sophie Morgan has essentially fast-tracked her way into being a superstar already through it; the stripe of glamour on offer is unfailingly magnetic. And it’d be wrong to suggest there’s not a heavy weighting towards that in this set. The outfit choices feel deliberate, both from Morgan and her band, and in a vein of coquettish, gothic-but-not-quite pop music that the Luvcat brand is founded on, not a single expense is spared. The only surprise, honestly, is that Morgan doesn’t sit on top of the piano sooner than Bad Books in the second half of the set.
Keep this in mind, though—not, for one second, should any of that be seen as criticism or admonition. Again, there’s a reason why Luvcat is a star-made vehicle when Vicious Delicious has only been in the world for a couple of weeks. Rarely is a newer artist this self-assured and willing to take that to such heights. Just take Lipstick as the introductory number, where the pull is instant and indicative of everything to come. With a phenomenal bass presence that weaves through the glitter and gloss in the air without disturbing it, even tonight’s fundamentals are heartily impressive. The execution is flawless from front to back—organic; able to sell unvarnished sizzle just as well as outright sparkle; and helmed by a true diamond of a frontwoman that’s already among alt-pop’s best in terms of poise.
On top of that, there’s just a nice feeling that exudes from that stage, clearly felt by most everyone. Blushing illustrates that best, between Morgan’s prefacing gratitude for everything that’s happened over the last couple of years, to its immaculate pop framed by soft pink lights, to the pile-up of quotable lines on the bridge that so many take delight in yelling back. It’s a perfect moment, arguably the most outwardly so that Luvcat produces. Everything else yields a more cumulative perfection, such as how evocative the tactile ticks are on the hollowed Spider, or how the gold backlight makes the piano ballad Laurie feel more luxe.
If it’s something more scaled-up you’re after among the louche-and-lascivious pageantry, though, the best examples of twofold. The first is a cover of Helena, where any audience decorum is vaporised in the rapture after Morgan’s nonchalant “Do any of you guys like My Chemical Romance?” The song gets fittingly Luvcatised, reworked as a slowed, ‘80s soft-rocker with the perfect openings for more mellifluous popstar vocals, capped by an I’m Not Okay interpolation on the outro for good measure.
The second is Dinner @ Brasserie Zédel, the overall closer where it’s still utterly insane that a song this good and this definitive of its creator was a debut single. It’s the ideal confluence of literally everything—the rheumy, side-stage spotlights; the grotty cabaret stings in the guitar; the frayed, Vaudevillian vocal; and Morgan carrying a presence of stumbling, drunken desperation that feels a bridge farther than most similar-sized artists are willing to take their work. Even if Morgan’s toy accordion on the final singalong is far from even audible, it hardly matters. The perfection of the Luvcat live show is all about its imperfections, anyway; lavish decor and romance chipped by the seediness within. And with how gloriously that’s already emerged, the newest icon of pop music is here.
Words by Luke Nuttall
Photos by Ben Whitehurst (Instagram)
