Baker, having moved from her native Lake District to the Heaton area earlier this year, returned to her now hometown to play to the largest audience of the month-long stretch, she confessed onstage.
Opening the evening were support acts Georgina Gale and Oliver Pinder, though unfortunately I only caught the end of Gale’s set after arriving late from work. Pinder’s set was noteworthy – a thoroughly enjoyable set enhanced particularly by his choice to leave the stage and perform a song within the small crowd, setting a precedent for the level of intimacy the evening was categorized by. Bonus points for me too – he is also from Wakefield.
Baker performs with an endearing amalgam of both elegance and humility.
As Baker took the stage for her headline slot, she was joined only by producer Josh Jackson on percussion and backing vocals, highlighting the small-scale and personal nature of both this set and wholistically of Baker’s music. “I’m Melanie Baker, this is Josh, together we are Melanie Baker” she joked, but there was no doubt in the room who we were there to see. With a vocal which encircled the small space, an effortless floating beauty which needed little but the simple accompaniment it received, it was a captivating performance. It is not often a gig can make you feel so connected in this way, whether that be to the artist, the music, or within an audience, but Baker managed it all. The evening was steeped in an overarching intimacy, conversational in tone and a simple understanding of a togetherness and the enjoyment of music shared by artist and fans. So comfortable she seemed on stage, it could well have taken place in Baker’s own home. Baker performs with an endearing amalgam of both elegance and humility.
Lyrically, Baker’s music tends to be daringly direct, with an unwavering candidness. Hearing these same lyrics live made them all the more poignant. Strikingly gifted in lyrical storytelling, on more than one occasion this self-confessed writer of “sad indie songs” (think Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus etc.) moved the room to tears as she sang relatable words of self-reflection and troubles – of candles burning at both ends and striving until exhaustion towards objectively unattainable ideals, at the cost of our own sanity (‘Waiting List’). “Months ago, we were fine but now we’re broken”, sang Baker to the title track of her 2020 Broken EP. Well, minutes ago we’d been fine, but suddenly there was barely a dry eye.
The evening's pinnacle came at the eleventh hour in the form of Baker's encore.
Hitting a different note in this well-balanced set, the powerful ‘What Ifs’ tackled feelings of regret with an air of country to it, while the loosely Thelma and Louise inspired ode to friendship ‘Suzie’ made a perfect ending to the main set – an upbeat crowd-pleaser met with enthusiastic sing-a-longs. The evening’s pinnacle, however, came at the eleventh hour in the form of Baker’s encore. Consisting of a single song, it was the one we all needed to hear. ‘365 Days’ left the night on a warmer note of uncomplicated romance in contrast to the complex themes the earlier pieces captured, and Baker herself was seemingly overwhelmed by the response to it as we casually chatted away afterwards, claiming it was a somewhat unprecedented popularity for a song she’d written so long ago.
This one, without a doubt, has been my gig of the year so far – in both delivery and atmosphere (not to mention the incredible merch, including the beautiful mug I am drinking from as I write, handmade by Baker’s mam!). Melanie Baker is a name well worth keeping an eye out for in the Newcastle music scene over the coming months, as I know I will.