BabyJake with the vinyl of his newest album. Photo courtesy of BabyJake.
JACK WILLIAMS | CULTURE CO-EDITOR | jrwilliams@butler.edu
Behind the open bar and neon lights of Turntable’s lounge in Broad Ripple, a crowd composed mostly of fans in their 20s rushed in to see BabyJake perform a Nov. 12 concert. Several attendees sported “Hot Girls Love BabyJake” T-shirts, while others traded opinions on his best songs.
Jake Herring, known as BabyJake online and onstage, shot to viral fame in June 2019 through his hit single “Cigarettes on Patios”, a staple for any college party playlist. However, he is more than a one-trick pony. Take “Arian(e)”, for example, from his most recent album “Beautiful Blue Collar Boy”. The plaintive, loving lyrics would fit comfortably in a Beatles song, while the slightly psychedelic lead guitar lines are reminiscent of “Shampoo Bottles” or “Alrighty Aphrodite” by Peach Pit.
However, Herring refuses to let “Arian(e)” stagnate in a single genre. The final minute of the song builds into a whirlwind of chaos that ends in one heartrending, animal cry. The album then charges into the alt-rock “Bottom of a Dirty Shoe”.
Longtime fan Ryann Bahnline, a senior English and middle secondary education double major, appreciates that Jake takes the time to craft cohesive albums.
“People will make songs [where] they think this 15-second part is going to blow up on TikTok,” Bahnline said. “When those 15 seconds come on, it’s awesome, but then the rest of it is just [bland]. [Herring’s] are complete songs. In 2020, when he started to get really popular, that’s what drew me towards him … and he’s put out albums or EPs almost every year [since].”
When artists think about more than a single sound bite, the listener gets the opportunity to choose whether they want to experience a quick hit of adrenaline or take in the album’s full story. Herring has given himself the space to create both high-energy, summertime sing-alongs and lyrically-driven ballads.
The flexibility of his music was reflected in Herring’s piece-by-piece approach during the Nashville recording sessions for “Beautiful Blue Collar Boy”.
“When I’m recording nowadays, I really put a lot of thought into how it’s going to sound live,” Herring said. “What if I strip everything back? Is it still a good song? … I used to record music thinking [about] how to make the best record. Now I record music going, ‘How is this going to transform into a live show?’”
Movement was built into every single song during the show. Fans crouched low to the ground when Herring crept towards the edge of the stage, then leaped up as he stood on an amp behind the keyboard. Though they seemed spontaneous, each action showed how methodically Herring thought about the fan experience.
Often, the media depicts musicians as eccentric figures beholden to the whims of the Muses. Inspiration seems to strike like lightning and disappears just as suddenly, leaving the forsaken auteur searching for a way to reach their creative zenith once again.
Herring takes a different approach.
He believes the enjoyment and reward of touring should be performing onstage — not drinking beforehand or partying afterward. A musician’s greatest asset is the willpower to show up, day in and day out, and put pen to paper.
An early passion for basketball shaped Herring’s attitude toward how to conduct himself as a musician.
“The biggest thing that basketball taught me was discipline,” Herring said. “Ok, you want to be good? You’ve got to practice. F*ck the inspiration. If I woke up and wanted to wait for inspiration to shoot the ball 300 times from the free throw line, I would’ve never shot the ball.”
The passion that drove him to spend early mornings at the basketball court and practice late at night with a flashlight pointed at the rim is what drives him on tour. That intensity keeps him going through sickness and sleepless nights, and it’s what he admires in other musicians.
Herring considers Chappell Roan a prime example of what a dedicated artist looks like.
“When you see people like Chappell Roan, and you think she just came out of nowhere, that’s total B.S.,” Herring said. “Roan was doing her sh*t with branding for years before things started to click in a big way. And when they clicked, she was so prepared to be herself that it exploded. She didn’t have to fake anything … She knew who she was; she knew what the music was.”
Herring knew the power of a strong entrance. He rushed onstage at the start of the show only to hustle back to the side. The crowd watched, puzzled. Herring shouted that there were technical difficulties and ran back on two more times before he was satisfied with the start — and the audience only cheered louder.
Bahnline feels that Herring has succeeded in staying down-to-earth and connecting with fans.
“You can tell that he loves what he does and he’s excited about what he’s putting out there,” Bahnline said. “He’s made it in the music industry, but he’s still working as if he hasn’t. On his Instagram, he’ll post on his story [and say], ‘Looking for a guitarist on this upcoming tour. Let me know.’ It’s him giving people the chance to make it like he did.”
This is how musicians create the connections that lead to lifelong memories. For Bahnline, Herring will forever be associated with driving a Jeep down the winding roads of Michigan during a family vacation.
Attendees at Herring’s show had a multitude of moments to treasure. One woman at the very front of the crowd held up an invitation to her wedding. Herring smiled and delicately placed it upon the keyboard without breaking stride, all while approving shouts reverberated through the room.
“There’s a million options for people to listen to,” Herring said. “I’m not aiming for somebody to listen to my song anymore. I’m aiming for somebody to become a fan of me, of what I am, what I believe — who I am.”
