Words by Fin Harrison

Tonight’s destination is the infamous Soho nightclub known as The Box. I’m here to cover a show by rising star Luvcat (a.k.a. Sophie Morgan Howarth), whose work I’m not too familiar with at this point. Truthfully, what prompted me to take the gig when it was offered was the venue itself. Mainly because it shares a name with the popular track by rapper Roddy Ricch, which a bunch of other white boys used to hype ourselves up to back in 2019 when it dropped. 

I’d always been under the impression that the song was about the nightclub because that’s what someone told me at the time, and I never questioned it, nor have I ever had the capacity to actually decipher any of the song’s lyrics. 

Since its 2011 opening, The Box has built up a reputation as one of the city’s most popular nightlife destinations for the rich and famous alike. 

When I mentioned this assignment to my fiancée, it took her no more than one Google search to discover that a) the Roddy Ricch song is actually about his time in prison, and b) The Guardian had this to say about the club when it first opened its doors in 2011: 

“For the great and the bad, it’s the new place to be seen: Kate Moss, Emma Watson and Prince Harry are among those who have seen the club’s explicit two-hour show. A club-goer describes acts involving acrobatics, threesomes, and men dressed as pigs licking food off strippers’ stomachs, while a paper has reported a performer, known as ‘Laqueefa’, apparently playing well-known tunes with her genitalia.” 

As you can imagine, upon reading this, she was somewhat alarmed by my enthusiasm, which I, too, was beginning to call into question. 

Of course, when the club first appeared, the idea of a bunch of elites, celebrities and royals having wild blowouts in an Art Deco speakeasy was received somewhat differently by the general public. Back then, it was all considered chic and Great Gatsby-esque. It now has connotations of hedonistic clout-chasers, the island of Little St James and even Baal himself. 

It’s the first evening of the calendar year that feels truly autumnal, and as I board the rail replacement bus from Euston, the dawn of spooky season feels impossible to ignore. 

Upon arriving, however, the scene is a far cry from the carnage The Guardian had prepared me for. For this evening, at least, things appear decidedly more civilised. I’m handed a rose at the door and given an envelope containing a note from Luvcat, stamped with her lipstick, welcoming me to “an evening of mischief”, while ‘Pale Blue Eyes’ by The Velvet Underground rings out of the speakers.

The upstairs of the club is absolutely rammed with fans, many of them young women who were lucky enough to snap up tickets in the few minutes it took for the show to sell out. A small, semi-circular stage is draped in a deep red curtain, in front of which cameras are being mounted. 

This show marks the one-year anniversary of the release of the Scouse singer-songwriter’s debut album, Vicious Delicious, which has rapidly brought her career to dizzying new heights. 

When the curtain finally draws open, she stands surrounded by her band, sporting a leopard-print leotard and black veil. A chorus of high-pitched cheers reverberates around the room as she launches into ‘Lipstick’. 

While Roddy Ricch’s song may not have anything to do with this place, Luvcat reveals that a new song called ‘Mademoiselle’ is inspired by the venue. The still-unreleased track is unapologetically cheeky as well as confessional. In it, Luvcat describes waking up on one of the club’s tables under the house lights after a raucous night out with one of her friends, recalling flashbacks involving the “finest Peruvian cocaine” and a three-way kiss with a Spanish prince. 

She’s clearly drawn to the burlesque element of the venue, incorporating its aesthetic deeply into her performance. The acoustics are also excellent, and Luvcat herself sounds absolutely fantastic, regularly venturing into the centre of the crowd and clearly relishing the chance to give something back to all the eyes fixed on her. 

The band are also clearly feeling themselves in the space, and the sound of the piano hammers striking the strings hits particularly hard. There’s something inherently dramatic about those chords that feels perfectly at home in a room like this. 

Her biggest hits, ‘Matador’ and ‘Lipstick’, are sung back to her before she brings the main segment of the performance to a close with ‘He’s My Man’, probably the track most responsible for her ascent. 

She reappears on stage in a tartan dress, surrounded by dancers reminiscent in attitude to that of Marilyn Monroe. She closes her performance with ‘Dinner @ Brasserie Zédel’ as a shower of confetti cascades from the ceiling. 

Luvcat, her band and her dancers all take a triumphant bow at the conclusion of a show that has clearly been made all the more fun by its unconventionality. They then join their fans downstairs, where a cake and candles are brought out, and everyone gathers to sing happy birthday to Vicious Delicious.