More about: Quinnie

“That felt like group therapy” is what one of my friends excitedly sighed, immediately after Quinnie’s debut London set at Folklore ended.

I initially found Quinnie much in the same way that most people did, through TikTok. Last summer this song kept cropping up everywhere, “he’s so pretty when he goes down on me,” it was something different. Unlike the brashness of most pop music nowadays. It was gentler, more sincere, something felt very different about this unknown track from a girl on the internet. ‘Touch Tank’ exploded onto the TikTok scene, before it was even officially released - and people were willing to wait for it. And then when ‘Touch Tank’ in its fully fledged form finally made it onto Spotify the hype just kept growing and growing. And then, just over a month later ‘Man’ dropped, after once again, the teaser went viral on TikTok. The internet went feral for ‘Man’. “Fuck all your gold stars, the cherries in the back yard, no amount of sugar could sweeten such a bitter heart, fuck your soft boy scam, the cowboy or the Tarzan, no amount of nail polish could paint you a good man.” The total antithesis of ‘Touch Tank’ but still in keeping with Quinnies gentle sonic countenance. But this time she was angry. And you can hear it in the song.

At Folklore in Hackney, I saw an array of young people feeling that anger, celebrating it and basking in it. I saw people go feral for ‘Man’ IRL. But let’s backtrack a little bit, shall we? Back to the beginning of the night. 

I arrived at Folklore with a friend after the respective pilgrimages from North and West London at around seven. The venue is a tiny, magical fairy land just a five-ish minute walk away from Shoreditch. Walking through doors, that really should be in a castle and not a tiny venue in East London, you’re greeted with literal bird song over the speakers, vines, disco balls and mushrooms hanging from the ceiling, red lights and candles illuminating the small front room and (ye olde) bar. We walked past the few people dotted around in booths, that aren’t really booths, more reminiscent of an outside sofa area around a fire pit. The walk from the front room and bar took us through a small corridor past (gender neutral) toilets on each side and a not-very-secret coat closet, into the live room/ music room/ place where people play music/ there was a stage in there. Everything was lit up blue, and the fairyland theme carried through. Vines crept around the room on the walls and ceilings culminating at the stage. The backdrop was a wall of green plants behind some fairy lights that made an almost-heart shape and lit up the front half of the room a soft yellow contrasting the slightly harsh blue of the back.

Sarah Crean began her set at about eight, an array of heartbreaking songs about youth, love and trauma. I definitely fell in love with her and her music in that half hour slot. We chatted a bit before her set with a mutual friend and she told me it was her first ever London show, and that without the full band it sounds less like indie pop and more like folk but that she loves it either way. And after listening to her on record, I feel the same way. Sarah Crean is a born pop star, for fans of Quinnie (obviously), Lucy Dacus, Leith Ross.

After Sarah’s set, a violently expensive drink, a cigarette, and me officially branding the event as a “sad girl convention”, it was time to explore the MDF cladded loos of Folklore. I instantly went for a large bathroom sized toilet but upon seeing it was labeled “dressing room (private)” I opted for its petite next door neighbor. From within I heard Quinnie telling my friends waiting that they could use the toilet in the “dressing room (private)” because she wasn’t using it as a dressing room. While sat on the toilet, one of my favourite musicians was right outside the door giggling about her dressing room and I was frankly, freaking out. I had been alerted to her presence prior to this by Sarah before her set, whom I’d told I was freaking out about even being here and she then decided it was the perfect time to alert me to the fact that Quinnie was right behind me. In turn I did a meek little scream and refused to turn around. A fun fact about me, I like to keep my parasocial relationships parasocial and will go to awkwardly long lengths to make sure I don’t meet my favourite artists. 

"Quinnie perfectly encapsulates the beauty of life, nature and human contact while not shying away from addressing darker subjects and her struggles with mental health."

The shyness struck again as I happened to glance back as Quinnie and her two band members were starting their squeeze through the crowd to the stage. The further they got to the stage the more eyes were on them. The buzz was audibly growing, until she reached the stage and everyone erupted in applause. The set begun with ‘Flounder’ and Quinnie saying “I’m going to play the album flounder, if that’s okay.” They absolutely steamed through the whole album with the evident absence of ‘Touch Tank’ and ‘Man’. Everyone in the room was swaying along with her, some making little remarks about how good she is live, others taking photos on 90s cameras and generally being an excitable and perfect crowd. The two songs that have recently stood out to me from the album are ‘Get What U Get’ and ‘Better’ - very honest moment here, I did weep like a baby through both of those songs. Quinnie perfectly encapsulates the beauty of life, nature and human contact while not shying away from addressing darker subjects and her struggles with mental health. I think it’s so beautiful and shows so much strength to be so publicly delicate, I found myself resonating with all of Quinnies songs and at some moments felt like she wrote that album specially for me.

The last three songs Quinnie played were ‘Gold Star’, ‘Touch Tank’ and ‘Man’. Throughout the album play through, people would sing along to some songs, most knew the choruses but for the last three people were screaming. ‘Gold Star’ saw people coming out of their shell a bit more, singing and dancing along at a more frantic rate. And then, “I’m going to play Touch Tank now,” the room erupted. Everyone sang, everyone danced, it was one of the two reasons people had bought tickets for the show. It felt very special to be in a small room with a small group of people who were all singing at the top of their lungs about such an intimate topic. ‘Man’ saw the end of the set, the way everyone responded to that song felt like we’d all dated the same man, which is a bit of a sad evaluation of our modern society. We all shared in that hurt, felt the heartbreak that we’d all had and comforted one another with all of our loud rendition of Quinnie’s sad-girl poetry. It felt like a snapshot of a moment in time, it passed so quickly but everyone was experiencing it together. 

The evening ended with a collective sigh of relief, almost like a weight had been lifted from everyone’s shoulders just from being in the same room as her. I don’t often use the word cathartic but I feel it’s the perfect summary for Quinnie’s impact on the people in that special blue room.

See the shots of the night, captured by Ele Marchant:

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More about: Quinnie