Mark William Lewis at The White Hotel

Not much is known about Mark William Lewis. Like his closest contemporary Dean Blunt, he operates in the shadows of London’s underground scene, leaving few breadcrumbs for fans or press to follow. And yet he’s one of the capital’s most hyped artists, his skeletal and introspective indie rock celebrated by the likes of Pitchfork and Fader. 

Following two EP’s (Pleasure Is Everything and God Complex), Lewis dropped his first album, Living, in 2023. Like the man himself, it’s a tricky thing to pin down. The lyrics are emotional but evasive, like a soul-bearing diary entry half scrubbed out. The music is just as elliptical, with spaced-out, warped guitars drenched in reverb and delays, and bass lines that feel unmoored, threatening to drift off at any moment.

But this the ambiguity kind of feels like the point; the unanswered questions only make you want to keep on searching. And it feels like you’re searching right there with Lewis, who comes across lost in thought while his weighty, creaking voice probes questions about life and death.

Songs like ‘Enough’ and ‘Simple Passion’ sound wistfully heartbroken as they explore themes of alienation, intimacy and the toll of interpersonal turmoil. The music underneath is heavy on repetition and refraction, with melodic ideas that spiral away from themselves, as if searching for their own unattainable answers.

It feels like all these ellipses and question marks should make for a frustrating listen, but when you embrace the mist that Lewis casts himself within, it’s strangely addictive.

A former mechanics workshop in the shadows of Strangeways, The White Hotel’s the perfect venue for a gig like this, with support coming from another hyped – and no less enigmatic – name on the London seen, Great Area.