From Liberia to Vancouver: Mon Rovîa’s Music Hits Home

Vancouver got a little quieter on July 7. Not because people stopped talking, but because they were listening. At the Commodore Ballroom, a full house showed up for Heal With Others Tour: Continued, and Mon Rovîa made sure every person in the room felt seen and heard.

Mon Rovîa isn’t your typical folk artist. Born in Monrovia, Liberia during a civil war and adopted by missionaries to the U.S. as a child, his story is one of survival and searching, for identity, for peace, for a home. Now based in Chattanooga, Tennessee, Mon Rovîa has built a sound he calls Afro-Appalachian folk: grounded in West African rhythm and soul, layered with Appalachian strings and gospel spirit. It’s a mix that doesn’t just invite you to listen, it asks you to feel.

The night opened with local opener Ryan Harris. He set the tone with a soft, sincere solo set that felt like a warm journal entry. Based in Whistler, Harris makes music from his bedroom studio. His gentle guitar work and laid-back presence gave early arrivals a chance to settle in. With songs influenced by his childhood spent surfing between Canada, New Zealand, and Australia, Harris channels the mellow spirit of Ben Howard and Jack Johnson, but with a distinctly Pacific Northwest soul.

Then Mon Rovîa walked onstage. No big entrance. No flashy graphics. Just a quiet confidence and a deep breath, like he was preparing to tell us the truth.

His set opened with “outlaw,” and “cleopatra.” Midway through, he played “crooked the road,” his breakout hit that took off on TikTok. On the surface, it’s a breakup song. But live, it felt like more than that. The chorus “If you’re leaving, know I’ll stay beside that telephone line” spoke to anyone who’s ever waited for hope to call them back. People sang like they meant it.

Between songs, Mon Rovîa talked about mental health, loss and grief. He encouraged everyone to be who they are in this safe space, sharing this quote “I tried to fit into the world, and I starved.”

He played most of his Act 4: Atonement EP, including “Rust” and “winter wash,” a song that wrestles with the mental whiplash of modern life. The set was stripped down to the raw essentials: voice, guitar, and emotion.

What makes a Mon Rovîa show different is that it doesn’t feel like performance. It feels like church. Not the dogmatic kind, but the kind where strangers sit in pews and remind each other they’re not alone. He closed the night with “jester int he bowl.”

With nearly two million monthly listeners and a growing following, Mon Rovîa is clearly having a moment. But you don’t leave his concert thinking about numbers. You leave thinking about your own story , the pain you carry, the people you love, and the small, sacred chance to heal with others.

In a world that feels like it’s always breaking, Mon Rovîa is the reminder that music can help you put something back together. Quietly, honestly, one note at a time.

Check out our favourite photos of the night below or head to our Facebook page for the full gallery!

MON ROVIA

RYAN HARRIS

All Photo Credit: Caroline Charruyer