The singer/songwriter is enjoying a rare break from an intensive year of touring, one that’s seen her perform sold out shows across the country, playing for fans desperate to see songs off her debut Sprained Ankle performed live. It’s easy to imagine that such moments of respite are warmly-received by the musician, but Baker finds it difficult to definitively say whether she prefers the grinding nature of being on the road, or the relatively quiet of home.
“When I’m off on tour, I end up going on super long walks like I’m doing right now,” Baker says. “That or I go on super long drives. It seems counter-intuitive: you’d thing the last thing you’d want to do after you’ve been on the road for 30 or 40 days is go out and drive again. But I think that’s how I wind down now.”
Baker’s popularity growth has been less curve-like and more of a spike: the furore surrounding Sprained Ankle sprung up immediately. Given Baker has had little time to adjust to her new life, one has to wonder whether or not the whole touring thing is proving a little hard to cope with. “This is something I spend a lot of time thinking about,” Baker says. “I’m an analytical person, so I’m not alright with not knowing what is going on and just being happy or unhappy about it. I think a lot about touring and the social aspect of it. It’s a paradox: there’s a dichotomy between always being alone and yet never alone.
“I cherish solitude. I’m an introverted person. And there’s some towns where I don’t know anyone. But there’s [also] never really a time where I’m alone. And there’s not many people to split your time around. It takes a toll sometimes. And I think part of making a tour feasible is making concessions to mental health and figuring out what makes it easier.”
That said, Baker is no martyr. She hasn’t led an easy life – a lot of her past pains, suicide attempts and doomed relationships are at the very forefront of Sprained Ankle – which is perhaps why she’s so content now with relative simplicity. “My needs are simple,” she says. “I try not to make any unreasonable demands – I don’t like the idea of being an artist who’s a diva.
“I wake up: I set my alarm for super early, so I wake up before everyone else, and I go out from where everyone is. And I have a cup of coffee, and I just sit and turn off my phone. I’ll do meditative prayer, or think about nothing, or maybe read a book. There’s no pressure. And that time of solitude really helps me deal with the rest of the day, where I have to be on and be engaged and know where I’m going.”
But above anything else, Baker seems deeply, humbly grateful for the life she has found herself slap bang in the middle of. “I have some level of predictability in my job, but I mean, what if everyone wakes up tomorrow and they’re over the record?” She says. “Then I’d have to say, ‘Well, I was thankful for the time I got.’ It’s about being content in all areas of your life.”
Mind you, it’s not that she doesn’t have her fair share of niggling doubts, and she admits to sometimes feeling uncomfortable about the autobiographical nature of her art. “All my songs are about me and my troubles and my worries and my fears,” she says. “Sometimes I’ll be in the middle of writing this song and I’ll have this voice in the back of my head going, ‘You selfish piece of crap. Who cares? Who cares about your whiny problems?’
“But as much as that discouraging voice exists, I think that disparaging voice gets balanced out whenever someone with a relatable experience talks to me at a show. Then I’ll think, ‘Oh man, I didn’t know anyone else but me had had that specific of an experience.’ But now they feel less alone.”
By Joseph Earp
