Noah Hill — 14/09/26

There’s a soft, tender atmosphere immediately noticeable in the London venue, which is quiet enough to hear the clinks of bottle lids and the shuffling of light jackets, as an audience in a spectrum from inner-city suits to flowing maxi skirts gradually makes their way in. Noah Hill seems to have wrangled some of that easygoing Byron Bay spirit into the room – for it’s far from what you’d expect of a typical Soho basement.

The audience was warmed by Australian-born, London-based Tennyson Nobel, delivering a delicate collection of unreleased originals and songs plucked from July EP, ‘The Living Room’. The crowd listened in respectful near-silence, broken with laughter after Nobel confessed to his home city of four years that ‘after many tears… and thousands of pounds… I’ve fallen for you.’

‘It’s been really special’, Noah Hill smiles from his perch on a simple stage, reflecting on the EU leg of his first international ‘one-man’ shows, which last night finished in London before his tour continues in North America. Hill is highly complimentary of his on-stage counterparts, particularly drummer Jason Styles. The three musicians produce a definite tone of feeling between them, one that converges somewhere in the rivers of regret, wistfulness and peace-seeking closure. Certainly, Hill has a lovely and emotive voice that’s very easy to listen to, rising and falling with the songs’ natural rhythms.

His solo album ‘Ok ok now’, released a couple of weeks ago, is an acoustic folk departure for the disco-first Parcels bandmember, documenting a non-linear break-up of a relationship across two decades. It was promised to be played start to finish in full: voicenote interludes, warts and all, and it is – bar a cover of Phoebe Bridgers’ ‘Scott Street’. ‘I never thought about playing these songs live…’ Noah admits, ‘I should have thought of that earlier.’

Hill’s initial apprehension came from the fact that his debut album is confessional to its core. One of its most chord-striking moments comes in the fleeting playback of the album’s buoyant muse speculating on their future with a ‘yes/no’ dice, played through the venue speakers as the record’s inherent intimacy teeters into invasive. It feels somehow morally wrong that this London audience has access to such private conversation, though Hill seems unphased. 

The room feels contemplative, but not heavy. As he’s documented, some of these songs began their journey a decade before, most were written two years ago. ‘The more time goes on, the more ridiculous it sounds’ Noah laughs, saying that he hopes his album can become a ‘go-to’ on the heartbreak soundtrack circuit, now better serving other people than himself.

There are still moments of romance tucked within ‘Ok ok now’, such as in the sweet ‘Read Your Mind’. But as the tracklist progresses, a gradual acceptance emerges – and the experience is as though listening to someone’s processing condensed into a fifty minute set. The evening ends in hope, with an unreleased love song that sounds like a clear sky after a long rain.

Noah Hill’s live show is the 3D version of ‘Ok ok now’ – a distilling of a life-altering relationship into its crumbled ending, and a timestamp of the work produced out of it. It’s not often we see artists perform such considered projects in full, rarer still to watch them performed to such attentive audiences. Before leaving the stage, Hill expresses a wish to be back soon, reassuring the audience that his solo endeavours are fit to continue alongside Parcels’. Last night’s gig was a gentle massage for the ears, and an ever-so wholesome start to the week.