The Many Faces of
Low Monroe
By Wil Clifford
April 4th, 2025
I like to think I’ve met two vampires in my life.
Perhaps more, but two for sure. The first was a velvet suit outside of Last Chance late at night, I can’t recall the show. From memory he was a band conductor, Elvis-esk hair and a deep voice like gravel. He was very quiet.
The second vampire is Low Monroe.
A suave gothic crooner, he regularly performs his brooding post-punk tunes with a group called The Fugitives. Just like the first vampire, quiet, thoughtful in language and playfully enigmatic.
I got the chance for a chat with Low Monroe a few weeks ago, shortly after the release of his new single Deviant Hotline. I’d only just begun asking about his influences when it started pelting down with rain. Fitting.
“There's this one film in particular that I really love from the fifties, it's called Sweet Smell of Success,” he said. “It follow[s] a very leech-y kind of world where no one's really safe, I guess it's pretty evident with the world right now. A dog-eat-dog world.”
Mix in a healthy dose of David Lynch (RIP) and a dash of Sisters Of Mercy, you’ve got Low Monroe.
“I actually tried releasing music just under my mundane name,” he admitted. “[It] was very lighthearted with undertones of dread, which I guess is gothic and post-punk in a nutshell. I really wanted to try [and] dip my toes into something that I wasn't overly familiar [with], but I was listening to a lot of. If it was intentional or not, it kind of just eventuated to that.”
Deviant Hotline is the latest addition to the goth’s discography, a hauntingly groovy ode to vampiric phone sex. Perhaps that’s a stretch; Monroe has referred to the song as a modern day retelling of Nosferatu, lurking landlines for a feed. The song certainly has the power to possess however, with its sultry guitar licks and eerie vocal break near the end.
Along with it came a music video, featuring Low Monroe and Fugitives’ guitarist Daz. Unnerving images of a rotary phone, Marilyn Monroe and the city skyline all stitch together as the two lurk around the frame.
“I didn't have much of a clear story for it, I just kind of knew how I wanted it to look,” said Monroe. “We shot it all in one day. A bit of green screen, bit of dirt. It kind of just worked out really well.”
The Fugitives - bassist Jake, drummer Finn and the aforementioned Daz - have been attached to the Low Monroe experiment since the project’s debut gig in September 2023. They’re far from a simple backing band however; Monroe will be the first to sing their praise, citing a whole new dimension the band bring to his songs.
“I was really scared of the idea of backing tracks and stuff,” Monroe said. “Even though I've seen really great artists like Cong Josie use that…I don't know, I was really scared of that. Getting The Fugitives on board and just how everything's worked out, it's really elevated it to another level.”
Fitting a conventional rock band setup into a bedroom-produced, goth-shaped hole has its own unique challenges. The tracks have swerved down a post-punk alleyway, collecting grit as they’re transposed for the live show. Deviant Hotline dropped along with a recording taken from a gig at Shotkickers, really proving just how different the songs sound and feel when The Fugitives get amongst it.
“I wasn't too sure how it would translate but as time passed and with the more shows that we played, the sound really matured,” said Monroe. “I think it definitely helped the Low Monroe character. Initially planning it out in my head, I thought it was gonna be a lot more of a lower-toned, more brooding performance. With this it just allowed me to let loose a facet of myself that I didn't know needed to let loose.”
Low Monroe, photographed by Valentine (@fruitbat_foto)
“Regardless of if we perform [live], or it's just digitally...the song's still there and though it can be different, it's kind of just taking what resonates with you. That's what my goal is…the streaming versions for the goths, the live versions for the punks, but if they want to cross over, that's fine. I just like the duality of it. It feels like a bit of an allegory for just myself with the music and just how it's separate, but it also is a bit of me as well.”
And let loose he does. At live shows, Monroe snakes around the stage and into the crowd with a surprising sense of civility. It seems he remembers every face, shakes everyone’s hand, smiles with every interaction. Donning a cowl of makeup across the eyes, Low Monroe is a gloomy gatsby, a Dracula-tinged socialite; this self-described ambivert feeds not on blood, rather a crowd digging a good show.
“Outside of Low Monroe I can be quite reserved and a little bit hermit-esk, though I can switch it on here and there of course,” he said. “I'd never wanna make anyone feel uncomfortable, but if people are getting amongst it and they're dancing, I love that. I love just seeing that. I want more of that.”
The band roars on, he’s on the other side of the room dedicating a lyric to each punter; when they stop, the vampire returns to the shadows. It’s a constant juxtaposition of two fascinating worlds; The Fugitives and Low Monroe, the live show and the digital releases. Low Monroe, the performer and Low Monroe, the person.
Perhaps it’s an appropriate question for all artists, the duality of those roles, the writer and the actor. For some artists there’s full transparency, others require a literal mask. Monroe rides a fine line, but neither side of that coin feels disingenuous; nothing about Low Monroe feels unearnest.
Anyways, Monroe shared with me this nightmare gig anecdote, I’ll leave you with it. I find it does a good job tapping into who he really is, off the stage.
“There was one gig in particular where there was a band that was playing before us and I think they were doing the Macarena or something,” recalled Monroe. “I thought all those people stayed around and then I'm like, “oh, can you guys do the Nut Bush or something?”, and then I kept saying it. I think I was a little bit tipsy at the time and yeah, there was no Nut Bush.”
“Sometimes it can be so easy to just get embarrassed. It's nice because I can kind of separate myself with the whole Low Monroe character, but it can be a big motivator. I think that gig as well, no one was dancing. I just remember the day after, I bought a new bass and I'm like, ‘I wanna make a song that makes people dance’. We wrote this song…it's got a nice dancey beat, like an offbeat high hat - I love it. I find that I'm dancing to it and I kind of don't care if people are dancing to it, I’m having fun.”
Listen to Low Monroe on Bandcamp and Spotify.