Baby QueenÔÇÖs current tour revolves around her new album ÔÇ£Quarter Life CrisisÔÇØ, encapsulating what it feels like to reach your 20s and get hit by societal pressures to grow up and figure out who you are, while all the while battling fake internet perceptions, sexuality and dealing with (or succumbing to) the substance abuse which surrounds us. She also talks about moving away from home for the first time, leaving friends and family behind and starting a new life, all the while grieving the person you used to be in the song, something a lot of Uni students in particular can probably relate to.
Sexuality is a main theme of the album, which is unsurprising to fans of ÔÇÿHeartstopperÔÇÖ on Netflix, which Baby QueenÔÇÖs music is heavily entwined with. Alice Oseman, author of the ÔÇÿHeartstopperÔÇÖ graphic novels, not only listened to the artistsÔÇÖ debut EP whilst writing the scripts for the Netflix series, but also designed special edition album artwork for ÔÇ£Quarter Life CrisisÔÇØ, depicting Baby Queen sat in her characteristically slumped style. Sexuality is clearly an important, once-repressed topic, that Baby Queen expresses through her music. She talks about the feelings associated with being queer and growing up in conservative South Africa, and the internalised second guessing which is associated with coming from that community.
Another prominent theme of the album is love, and the inability to find someone and have a stable relationship. This is touched on not only in the song ÔÇ£Die AloneÔÇØ which unsurprisingly is about dying alone, after not being able to find someone to like, unrequited love and getting the ÔÇ£ickÔÇØ (relatable). Another albeit slightly pessimistic take on this can be seen in her song ÔÇ£Love KillerÔÇØ, saying that ÔÇ£the only man I find attractive is the Grim ReaperÔÇØ, really reiterating Baby QueenÔÇÖs dark humour which is snuck in throughout the album.
Her lyrics are nihilistic, and at some points anguished, while being juxtaposed with upbeat synthesisers and tempo, forming a complimentary blend of angsty bubblegum-pop. Seeing Baby Queen emote to her lyrics while spinning and swinging around with her pink Fender Telecaster slung over her shoulder – itÔÇÖs hard not to shout along with her, letting out all the thoughts and feelings of your own ÔÇÿquarter life crisisÔÇÖ.
Words by Michelle Williams
I arrive at the venue and already see people starting to queue; itÔÇÖs ten to three, the gig doesnÔÇÖt start until seven, and there are four or five fans who all seem to know each other sorting out numbers for the queue. It’s clear that Bella, aka Baby Queen, has a strong fan base, and the gig is going to be a good one. I say this because the worst type of gigs, in my opinion, are the ones where no one really knows the words, so seeing such dedicated fans reassured me that the gig would be great.
Once we got in, the crowd was full of (excuse the cliche) misfits. Young, queer people all gathered in a church to see an outspoken, South African singer who was on the soundtrack for Heartstopper and grew to fame by writing a song about Jodie Comer seemed ironic. The opener, Viji was insanely talented – she was the epitome of Y2K scream pop, she was awesome and completely the opposite vibe to Baby Queen. Her setlist, a well-rounded mix of her new album, a couple of covers and some old favourites made for a perfect opener.
Soon, it was time for Baby Queen. Her stage backdrop was set up to match her album cover; from rubber ducks to handmade drawings, the detail made clear that a lot of time and effort went into crafting this stage. Combined with Baby QueenÔÇÖs emotional and personal lyrics about growing up, moving away, self esteem and romantic life, it really did feel like an incredibly personal concert. Quite literally a look into her head.
It was a peculiar beginning- opening with the title track of her album, ÔÇ£quarter life crisisÔÇØ, and hearing everyone singing along to the song when I am confident I was one of the oldest people there (at age 20) was definitely an experience. Regardless, the crowd sang along to every single lyric, and considering the album only came out four days ago, it was very impressive. The setlist weaved between her new album and her older stuff, and the crowd (myself included) lapped it all up. Personal highlights included ÔÇÿObviousÔÇÖ (if anyone saw me cry to this, no you didnÔÇÖt), ÔÇÿBuzzkillÔÇÖ, and of course, ÔÇÿWant MeÔÇÖ. From happy, to angry, to sad, the setlist felt like we had cracked Baby QueenÔÇÖs brain open and watched it do its thing – that for me was the highlight of the show. The truest authentic reflections and experiences that Baby Queen shared with us made it feel so personal, and like I said before, quite literally a look into her head.
All in all, I would recommend seeing Baby Queen whenever you can. If youÔÇÖre a die-hard fan or a new listener, youÔÇÖll enjoy it (and youÔÇÖll know more songs than you think).
Words and photography by AJ Lumley
