Photos by Kayalani DeGrave & Ella Gibson

Jake Minch took a momentous step in his musical career as he strummed through the opening night of his first headline tour. Upon the recent release of his album, George, Minch set out on the road with a first stop in a quaint, but community favorite Orange County venue. The Constellation Room at The Observatory OC was full of teen music lovers, a few parents, and a whole lot of denim skirts. With a small capacity of just 250 people, there was not a single bad view in the tightly packed space.
Singer-songwriter, Hana Bryanne, walked out to purple hues as the night’s opening act. Revealing her song, “Jesus Or Harrison Ford,” Bryanne’s bright vocals, steady vibrato, and bubbly personality captivated audiences from the get go. Cellist, Ben Absent, accompanied her mix of country ballads and descriptive Taylor Swift-esque storytelling to present a nostalgic, comforting sound.
At 9pm, the lights dimmed to pitch black and the crowd hushed to an emerging band and thunderous Jake Minch entrance. The set began with a slow burn as Jake and guitarist, Michael Andrew (better known as rallycap), shared a keyboard and lightly pressed down in sequence. “Nostalgia Act” resembled a soft Pixar film opening with sustained chords, reflective lyrics, and airy verses. Anticipation lingered for the beat to drop as a soft, jazzy drum entranced the room in a sway and led right into the album’s closer: “Twice.”


Just then, the lights half-rose to reveal table lamps atop music gear illuminating Jake’s band and creating an intimate setup for the cheery crowd. “F****d Up,” the bouncy conversational and picturesque single regarding guilt with loved ones, was met with pipes from the floor. Despite the heart plucking subject matter of the song, Jake couldn’t help but tease a smile as he recognized his lyrics being engrained in the crowd’s minds and them lovingly shouting along to the lyrics. As he introduced another single, “Drawing a Tattoo,” excited gasps travelled throughout the room. The tune was gently played with tight harmonies from bassist, Xina Rie, as Minch shared about growing distant with someone and concluded with the chilling realization that “there’s [always] a person who stays and a person who leaves.”
The pleading, “Jessie,” opened with raw vocals as Jake moved up and down the acoustic guitar’s frets. He sweetly grinned during every musical interlude and Absent’s satisfying electric riffs. To contrast, a grieving “Changed Things” had muted strumming and felt as intimate as listening to a voice memo. During “First I Was,” a circling melody was plucked under soft wishes and a bridge full of confessions. Each musician stood in their own world, eyes kept shut, as feelings of “I was a burnout” and “man I’m an addict” were lifted off Jake’s chest with an unresolved lingering chord. His resonant voice flooded the room in the vulnerable, “Unicef,” for which Jake shared a story of his PR training for the album in which all he could muster up is that “it’s a song about guilt.” Throughout his performance, it became evident that this track, along with many others, touched Jake in a deeply personal way. He belted over ringing strings with emotional tenderness easily conveyed. However, once the drums kicked in, his tenseness seemed to fade and a freeing feeling took over the The Constellation Room.


After a shyly captivating banter, the audience squeezed close together for “whose you are,” the single of Jake’s EP, how many. Minch adjusted his harmonica and a crowd sing-a-long was sparked. When live, this song had a fresh sense of vibrancy, from the crashing drums, electric guitar solo, and visible emotional climax. To build off this heightened energy, an enthusiastic “let’s vamp!” led into my personal favorite, the rock-esque: “Say Uncle.” Between sliding through the guitar’s neck, a pattery but intricate verse, and a drilling drum line, this was by far the most exhilarating moment of the night. Peaceful sways were transformed into lively jumps up and down. The sentiment did not stop on the floor as proven by occasional giggles, Jake’s beaming smile, and a declaration that “that’s way more fun with people in the room.”

It was then that Jake had a minute long conversation with a spectator and even put on a fan-made shirt. It was obvious throughout the concert that Jake had a special appreciation for his built community, but during “Fingers and Clothes,” a musical diary entry, this was only amplified. The crowd knew every word and Jake gave back to them by putting his all into this song. As the final note floated through the air, he caught his breath and a few scattered sniffles could be heard as the band made their exit.
For the encore, Minch came out solo, asked to kill the stage lights, and performed with just the two table lamps and a sea of phones to spotlight his performance. After “strip mall” and an unreleased surprise, the audience waited eagerly for the song that, according to Jake, started it all: “handgun.” He reminded us how important that night was in his career and life, sincerely thanking everyone and ensuring that it “meant a lot that you’re here.” While the closing tune was incredibly sad in lyricism, it was full of celebration on and off stage.
One thing’s for certain, Jake Minch’s vulnerability, musicality, and most importantly, endearing charm, remains in his listeners’ memories like a hand-drawn tattoo.
