Hak Baker, one of the most prominent black artists in the alternative scene, shares his limb of London Life through a shade left of Mike Skinner and Pete Doherty.
Superimposed with feel-good indie rock from the noughties, Hak Baker first hit the waves with persevering folk inhalation of Conundrum in 2017. With fans spanning culture and genre, it was soon clear that Baker was a spearheaded figure set to stay. With the constant question of the status quo, is ultimate MO, he strung his anti-genre “G-Folk” sound on his back and venture into the deeper droves of inner London. Out brought Babylon in the midst of baby COVID.
Now, less than three years later, he has brought out Worlds End FM, his most progressive and bold statement to date. Enforcing the nostalgic bubble of noughties indie through misfit cheeky oi oi lads of Mike Skinner and Jamie T, Baker’s sophomore is a time capsule of a late checkout through his own armageddon radio station. The album barks with an aggressive bite on such pointed marks of DOOLALLY and the angular rock of Telephones 4 Eyes, which got his fair share on its own waves via 6Music, giving into a glimpse of what pivotal artistry Baker can create if he put two and two together. The earnest showing of Bricks in the Wall is straight out of the lyric notebook of Jamie’s Panic Prevention, as Hak sleuths over a sedated backbeat of translucent horns and bells; “Bricks in the wall, wondering will Britain fall / Close down the youth club / Close down the snooker hall / Computer speaks through me phone via Google / Death to us all, to the pharmaceutical…” Full On offers much of the same laidback indie; tin can on the sofa kind of night, as Hak enters a rambling of his own inner thoughts he can’t seem to escape from. It’s a blasé soapbox enforced by the subplot of skittish guitar flexes. Windrush Baby beckons Hak back to his folky gears of his first on Babylon, as Hak admits, “17, mummy came over from the Caribbean, what a being? Went University, faced with adversity / But hit the shubeen just to ease the time / You know what I mean, yeah / Now the love is gone from the street / Can you not see it? Just leave it to the windrush baby / It’s time we reclaim it, so meet me at the street at night,” the losing of a Native identity over a whimsical tin-pan Alley shuffle. The biggest release is undoubtedly Telephones 4 Eyes, which sees Hak at his most flared up, with some making it as an alternative noise to the rattlings of today’s post-punk, as he lets loose on the horror show of modernised life: Telephones 4 eyes can you not see all the signs?
Brotherhood offers the same fast indie licks matched with the abrasive tellings of Hak but doesn’t offer the same strength as those aforementioned sadly. The three remaining singles of Dying To Live, Almost Lost London and The End of the World offer a signal of outreaching beauty in Hak’s songwriting – swirling strings, broken jazz notes, pan pipes and suggestive acoustics that embark on another adventure altogether. The End of the World is a wispy spoken word telling on-air, as the album concludes with general public quips and qualms on regrets and acceptance in retrospection – I’ve spent my whole life trying to convince the world that I’m worthy of their attention / when really i should’ve just given more attention to the people who loved me” – finalising a strong epilogue of Hak’s last chapter here.
manvmusic.com 
Leave a comment