Image Credit: Megan Henderson

A few side roads into Leeds city centre, and lit from above with hues of pink and red, sang Katie Gregson-MacLeod in her first headline tour. The Scottish singer/songwriter embarked on her streak across the UK, Ireland, and Europe off the back of her new EP release: Love Me Too Well, I’ll Retire Early, which came out on the 4 July this year. Although she has been quietly releasing music and gigging locally in Scotland for several years, her real ‘breakout’ came when her song ‘complex’ ignited TikTok virality, and the singer amassed a new community of admirers. The song’s lyrics, including “I’m wearing his boxers, I’m being a good wife” and  “I need him like water, he thinks that I’m alright,” were tattooed onto many conversations about emotional relationships and dynamics within them. The venue for her Leeds performance was on the upper floor of Headrow House, a versatile space featuring a beer hall, restaurant, and a regular calendar of arts and music events. That night, however, the room seemed to shrink in on itself, as if it had been quietly reconfigured into something softer. 

Image credit: Poppy Sockett

Waiting in the queue outside the venue, alongside its exposed red brick and among the colourful lights spilling from the rumbling Sunday evening crowd, the atmosphere was warm and friendly. With several people, like myself, arriving alone, they immediately felt comfortable and welcome into the crowd. There was an unspoken gentleness in the air, the kind that passes between strangers who know they’re about to share something meaningful. Tickets were given and wristbands received at a small table just outside the main stage area, which then opened into the main gig space. Inside, the air was dimmed but alive, the low murmur of conversation giving way to the occasional laugh, and the clinking of glasses underscoring the faint hum of the stage and speakers being prepared.

Katie’s opener was her fellow musician and friend, Glaswegian artist Lizzie Reid. Described on her website as the source of music that represents “an open exploration” of “love, loss, identity, and modern life,” these large and looming themes were delivered in an incredibly intimate and personal way. Lizzie spent time introducing herself to the audience through sporadic and meaningful anecdotes for several of her songs, including the overarching and storied history of her new EP: Bodega, from which she played the fifth track, ‘Wait for Rachel.’ She explained how the song first came to life in a small Glasgow venue, performed for the first time while the real character of Rachel sat in the audience. In Leeds, we became a quiet substitution for that first listener, the song at once addressed to us, but carrying the ghost of its original intimacy. The performance made the personal feel universal, as though we were collectively stepping into a moment that had once belonged to just two people. Even as it reached us, it still felt entirely hers to give. Reid sang with a stunning vibrato, which remained strong in the face of the emotion across her set. Making use of devices such as whistling and long melodic scatting, Lizzie gave a unique and impressive performance. Learning about the small venue in Glasgow where the majority of these new songs were written and inspired, we were able to witness the song performed in the same way the character of Rachel received it when Lizzie first sang it live. The room seemed to hold its breath for her, each note feeling stitched with memory. 

Image credit: Poppy Sockett

Describing her opener and “incredible friend” as an inspiration to acquiring a songwriting notebook, MacLeod encapsulated what it is that the pair share in the content and presentation of their catalogues: vulnerability, depth, and true honesty. Leading neatly into her own set, Gregson covered her new EP as well as some “songs written for piano” and singles such as ‘Teenage Love.’ Then came ‘complex,’ the song that carried her name far from Inverness and onto the screens of millions. Already half in love with the song, we fell into a silence as the instrumental began, needing no other introduction. Its quality and delicate piano chords had not at all wavered from that point of inspiration, and revived broken and faded heartstrings across the audience. Her voice, clear and rich with emotion, seemed to balance perfectly between confidence and confession. Gregson’s set also included her original song ‘God I Love a Funeral,’, written as the end song for the podcast ‘Strangers on a Bench,’ a production in which Tom Rosenthal talks to “enchanting strangers” on park benches. Asked personally by Tom to write a song inspired by one conversation with a woman on many seemingly dark yet interesting topics that were spoken about with humour, including death and funeral wishes, Katie praised the podcast for its originality and intimacy within a busy and fast-moving space.

Simultaneously projecting impressive vocals and an incredibly intimate and cosy atmosphere, Katie’s set took breaths but also sent chuckles and affectionate ‘mm’s through the room. It seemed no matter where in the room each person stood, each was supplied with a performance that echoed off the darkened walls and showered back over the floor. The music seemed to glow and brighten the stage. 

Likening her singing on tour to a “karaoke without the screen,”’, MacLeod reduced what many artists could deem an untouchable and flashy separation between themselves and their crowds to a blurry and comfortable one, as though they were a very real part of it. The phrasing summed up the evening’s strange alchemy, the collapse of distance between artist and audience. She spoke to us as though to friends, while also being happily surprised by some attending guests wearing old merch of hers, reflecting the long journey many of us had taken with her music from the start.

The performance made an ordinary Sunday evening feel infinite, as the music danced in my head on the train home.