With stained glass casting soft colours across the crowd and a hush of reverence in the air, Mulvey took the stage not with fanfare, but with the ease of an old friend returning home. From the first strum of ‘Fever to the Form’, it was clear: this wasn’t just a concert. It was a gathering of kindred spirits.
Born in Cambridge in 1984, Mulvey's initial foray into music began with the piano and drums. At 18, a pivotal moment occurred when he picked up a guitar in Southern Spain, igniting a passion that would shape his future. His quest for musical depth led him to Havana, Cuba, where he immersed himself in music and art studies. When he returned to the UK, he pursued ethnomusicology at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London, delving into diverse musical traditions, particularly from West and Central Africa. In 2025, he is now embarking on a tour that reflects his musical journey, a synthesis of diverse influences, profound lyricism, and a commitment to connecting with audiences through shared human experiences.
Preaching vulnerability and togetherness throughout his set, Mulvey led the crowd through a collective emotional journey, inviting them to connect not only with him but with each other. During ‘Radical Tenderness’, a track steeped in reflective warmth, the audience was transported into a space of shared memory and quiet solidarity, “Some of that natural great peace”, a lyric that lingered like a gentle prayer for the world we so deeply crave amidst ongoing turmoil. This thread of longing continued into ‘Cucurucu’, where Mulvey’s voice, both intimate and expansive, echoed the ache of belonging: “My heart beats with a ceaseless longing, of a yearning to belong.” It was a powerful reminder of how his music offering moments of collective catharsis.
Midway through the performance, Mulvey paused to share a personal story, his friend Kat was in the audience, and her presence, he explained, was deeply meaningful. They had inspired the title of his latest album ‘Dark Harvest’, and even features via a voicemail recording on one of the tracks. It was a poignant example of how Mulvey intertwines the personal and universal in his art, every detail becomes part of a larger emotional and spiritual mosaic. He didn’t shy away from confronting the contradictions of the modern world either. In ‘Mountain To Move’, he referenced environmental destruction with cutting clarity: “Even though Lancashire said no / Cuadrilla say they’re fracking anyway.” It was a moment that hit hard, especially in a live setting. The lyric felt particularly poignant, a quiet protest wrapped in melody.
In all, Mulvey’s performance wasn’t just a concert, it was a communal ritual of sorts. Through his lyrics, stories, and presence, he reminded us of the power of tenderness, the urgency of environmental and social awareness, and the deep human need to belong. It was a performance that didn’t just entertain, it resonated, invited reflection, and gently urged the audience to carry something more meaningful with them into the world beyond the venue doors.
