Lois Levin's "Felt" is intimate and velveteen

Since signing to Merseyside's New Retro Records, Lois Levin has been flying the flag for her hometown with a take on soul music that is informed as much by Billie Holiday as Alabama Shakes and the Stone Roses. It's blues in Doc Martens and a crisp suit, with an understated, quietly assured quality, the depth of her voice hinting at the the restless emotion within.

Latest track "Felt" finds the artist turning a moment of vulnerability into a statement of intent, laying out her vision for a healthy relationship in the face of alienation as she surveys a wall of "blank stares around the room". This yearning for acceptance and closeness is captured in a soulful, spare arrangement, whose supple guitar lines perfectly crown Levin's velvety-textured vocals. "‘Felt’ is about the ache for real connection – craving to be seen, touched, and understood in a world that often feels emotionally distant," she explains.

Since relocating to London, Levin has hit the ground running. Her songs have become a regular fixture on Jazz FM, and she's sold out the Elgar Room at the Albert Hall, as well as performing a BBC Introducing session at the fabled Cavern. In June she will play St Pancras Old Church – exactly the kind of venue to best complement her music, an intimate setting where she can lock eyes with listeners and communicate their heartaches with just one smokily-delivered line.

Her lyrics are deeply-felt yet piercingly direct, and ever since the release of her 2021 debut "Burden" she's allowed her feelings no place to hide. At just ten years old, Levin lost her mother, who had been recovering from alcohol addiction. It was around this time that she first turned to music and poetry as a way to articulate her pain, while trying to rebuild a relationship with a sometimes absent father, and adjusting to a whole new way of life.

While many of her earlier songs grapple with that trauma and loss, Levin is also keen to recreate the joy she has always found in music, bringing in some of the Motown sparkle she remembers from family karaoke sessions as a kid. She kicked off 2025 with "Sugar", whose disco-tinged romantic overtures let her draw on her inner Diana Ross. By returning with the restraint and sensitivity of "Felt", she adds yet another emotional register to her freshly-released EP Motions.

Levin describes "Felt" as "a quiet plea for intimacy wrapped in hesitation, loneliness, and a longing to feel something true." That quietness can be deceptive. It's hard to explain Birkenhead to someone who hasn't been here – if you'd stood at the waterfront this Monday watching distant red flares as Liverpool toasted their champions across the river, you might mistake the place for a ghost town. But still waters run deep, and Levin is living proof of the force of emotion surging beneath a calm, unrattled exterior.