This past weekend, The Dove in the Junkyard tour brought London’s Windmill scene to the Bowery Ballroom. Sunday was the second of two sold-out nights in New York, as well as the final show of Irish singer-songwriter Dove Ellis and London trio mary in the junkyard’s brief yet incredible run on the West and East Coasts. The handful of shows functioned as a benefit tour for War Child UK, an organization that delivers aid and resources to children in Gaza, and follows Dove Ellis’s recent feature on War Child’s charity album, HELP(2).
Despite their fairly recent emergence, both artists have entrenched their places within London’s Windmill community and brought the vibrance of the South London music scene to Bowery. They join influential bands that have cultivated UK post-punk and progressive, experimental rock, including black midi, the Last Dinner Party, Shame, Sorry, and Black Country, New Road. Now a term that defines sound, style, and culture, the “Windmill scene” was coined from the name of the grassroots venue that nourished these artists. And as a frequent visitor of the Windmill Brixton myself, the night felt like coming home.
mary in the junkyard
It feels like falling in love time and time again, seeing mary in the junkyard, the band that has begun to define my numerous pilgrimages across the pond with live sets that I can’t help but keep returning to. Each time still feels like the first.
The “angry weepy chaos rock trio” conjured a set adorned with lilting vocals and classical strings juxtaposed against boisterous drums, squeezing in a few howls and even a little boxing match. Their music is gorgeously textured and dreamy – though at times, it’s hard to tell if the dream is lovely or haunting. They open with “drains,” and the range in Clari Freeman-Taylor’s voice piques the crowd’s attention, dripping like honey one moment and feverish the next. “Blood,” a new song from their upcoming album, has the room moving and warming. Several new songs are weaved into the set, building palpable curiosity and excitement.
The band is all smiles throughout, and Clari has the crowd charmed instantly – the vocalist and guitarist cracks jokes between songs and playfully talks of mice and the barricades of the New York City subway, makes the room buzz with laughter. The playful air continues into “New Muscles,” when, befitting of the name, a few (fake) punches and even some kicks are thrown between Clari and bassist and viola player Saya Barbaglia, as David Addison’s drums thrum behind them. But the crowd always lapses back into a captivated silence, plunges back into that dream, eyes closed and swaying, once Saya’s viola rings out again.
All too soon, “this is my california” closes the set. There’s a sense of longing in the cheers and the whispers that linger in the air long after the band has taken their exit. “Nobody gives a fuck about you,” Clari had sung at one point, only to be met with an adamant “we give a fuck about you” from a member of the crowd. It’s undeniable – mary in the junkyard have enamored us and pulled us into the junkyard of our dreams, and we are more than happy to stay.
Dove Ellis
Dove Ellis’s run supporting Geese on tour and the 2025 release of his debut album, Blizzard, has undoubtedly generated a passionate following. And I was not immune to the buzz – though it was my first time seeing the indie-folk musician live, my expectations were high. The anticipation is visceral by the time he takes the stage amidst the fog and the lights, and looking around, I realize that he has the Bowery Ballroom rapt. Reverence blankets the crowd as he goes right into unreleased opener “Brown Hole.” In their excitement, pairs of friends around me grasp onto each other with face-splitting smiles. It’s endearing, infectious, and immersive, just how live music should be.
The comparisons to Thom Yorke, Jeff Buckley, and Cameron Winter are entirely founded. Dove Ellis demonstrates masterful vocals and an exceptional range throughout. During “Pale Song,” he drifts seamlessly from mellow softness to powerful belting that reverberates and weaves through the audience, fueling their energy. His stage presence is made up of more than just himself – it feels like he is born from and one with the music.
He likes – no, loves New York, he clarifies mid-way into the set, much to the crowd’s satisfaction. The soft-spoken artist’s appreciation is genuine, clear as day between the cracks of his teeth on the smile on his face. And New York loves him, and they make it clear as they shout “we love you”s back.
Ellis is truly is the master of all trades. He swaps the guitar for the piano for “Heaven Has No Wings,” and plays gorgeously. The energy only continues to grow as eager head-bobbing turns into dancing. Later, “Love Is” begins with a crooning that soon, like a wave crashing onto the shore, turns feverish and high-energy. “Love is not the antidote to all your problems” is the mantra for the night. Saying that my expectations were exceeded would be an understatement. Supported by the warmth and appreciation from the crowd, Dove Ellis is another artist that will have me returning to see.
mary in the junkyard join Dove Ellis onstage to close out the night with a cover of Paul Anka’s “My Way.” Clari and Ellis’s voices complement one another gorgeously. It’s a beautiful ending to a beautiful night of Dove in the Junkyard, and traces of the Windmill are sure to be left in their wake.
