So close no one can go. Now, Julien Baker don’t give a shit. Well aware that those who listen to her hardly do it for fun, for entertainment or for fast kicks. Well aware her signature is the intimacy, not to mention the trust she’s got for her fans and the trust her fans have for her. She sings about the most private stuff, about guilt and shame, sin and forgiveness, growth and development. And she does it with a seriousness that makes it impossible to quit listening. A seriousness that probably can be derived from Julien’s deeply religious upbringing and the personal anguish she struggled with when she came out as gay at the age of 17. If you follow Julien Baker you do it for life. This is a pact where artist and audience grow together. Perhaps verified by the fact that Julien Baker just a few years ago often played for an audience of twenty-thirty people at cafes and bars but now regularly performs at sold old venues where the capacity is well over four-figured.
In 2015 you couldn’t help but notice the name Julien Baker being dropped with increased frequency all over the blogosphere and how this singer-songwriter from Memphis had a unique way of touching her listeners. Sprained Ankle, her debut album released the same year, was a low key cry for help that at once established the singer’s unmistakable expression. Two years later she followed it with Turn Out The Lights, characterized by refined songs and arrangements, and a growing sense that we’re dealing with a full-fledged artist, someone who goes beyond hype and is here to stay. A sense that was confirmed by last year’s collaboration with friends Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus in the sublime indie supergroup Boygenius.