Mon Rovîa Brings Songs of Hope and Unity to Brooklyn Bowl Philadelphia

Blending his West African roots with Appalachian folk, Mon Rovîa’s music is rich with heritage and history. And the sense of calm and community that comes with those things was palpable at his Philadelphia show, which sold out despite the fact that he hasn’t released a full LP yet — a testament to the connection he’s already built through his music and social media presence. 

Bella Kay kicked off the night with an easy, conversational set, but the shift in atmosphere was immediate when Mon Rovîa stepped onstage. The audience fell into near-total silence, a kind of collective focus that held through even his quietest songs.

In between songs, Mon Rovîa talked openly about his identity, loss, survivor’s guilt, and the lingering effects of being adopted, often framing his songs as part of a larger process of naming difficult experiences. Despite the weight of these topics, his delivery carried an overall note of hopefulness, and the same tone runs through his music: sincere, unguarded, and deeply attuned to the possibility of healing.

Mon Rovîa’s radical honesty in his music also positions him within a growing wave of folk artists who use their voices as a form of protest — a trend highlighted in NPR’s recent examination of contemporary folk activism. His set in Philadelphia reflected that ethos without ever feeling forced; the politics were present, but they emerged naturally from the stories he told.

The set leaned heavily on new and unreleased material. He performed “Field Song” from his upcoming album along with tracks that haven’t been released yet, including “Crows Be the Omen” and “Infinite Pines.” “Crooked the Road” was one of the night’s highlights. Written in Chicago with his bassist Sam Hudgens, the song began with Sam’s vocals before the two settled into a calm, intertwined performance.

Mon Rovîa closed the night with “Happy Foot,” prefacing it with a message to remember our collective power, encouraging the audience not to let anyone tell them that they don’t have the power to speak up and bring change. It was a moment for noise, and the Philly crowd roared in agreement.