Billie Marten brings ‘Dog Eared’ to life at her London headline show
The musician brought her new album to O2 Forum Kentish Town.
Photo: Katie Riley
On Saturday night, the Kentish Town Forum fell silent as Billie Marten stepped forward. She arrived quietly, yet held the entire room within seconds. Touring her latest record Dog Eared, Marten brought something rare to north London: a show built on stillness, precision and emotional clarity.
Le Ren opened the evening with a set that felt like a warm exhale. The Montreal songwriter’s voice drifted through the venue with a gentle, nostalgic glow, shaped by folk tradition and an old-soul softness. Her songs were sparse and deliberate, giving the room space to settle and listen. She would return later in the night as a guest, but her presence felt like a quiet anchor from the very beginning.
Billie Marten’s own arrival was just as understated. A small smile, a nod to her band and then straight into the music. Her touring group was a quietly brilliant four-piece: a violinist who moved between bow work and bright banjo lines, a bassist who added warm, shadowy harmonies, and a drummer who played with remarkable restraint. Together, they moved with perfect balance, every part serving the song without ever crowding it.
Vanilla Baby was an early highlight. Marten played it entirely alone, just her and an acoustic guitar, and the Forum fell into a complete stillness. She reached back into her catalogue for older favourites, including Mice, a song that continues to hold a fragile power. The crowd recognised it instantly and the room shifted into a deeper quiet, the sort of collective listening that feels almost physical.
Midway through the set, she invited Flyte and Le Ren back onstage. Their four voices blended into a soft, glowing harmony that gave the show a sense of intimacy, as if the crowd had stumbled upon a rehearsal among friends. It was tender and unforced, and it expanded the atmosphere of the night.
Her Neil Young cover arrived as another surprise. Played on piano, it carried a quiet sincerity that made it feel personal rather than borrowed. A small ripple of recognition moved through the room before everything fell still again. The crowd understood the weight of what it was hearing.
The biggest surge of energy came near the end with I Can’t Get My Head Around You, which gave the song a lively, almost bounce, and the audience finally let themselves rise a little. It was a clear fan favourite and the one moment where the night felt close to lifting off completely.
By the final notes, Marten had proved that she did not need spectacle or force. She simply let the songs breathe. What lingered was her quiet authority, her delicate craft and the sense that every detail had been placed with intention. Billie Marten does not dominate a venue. She draws it in slowly until everyone finds themselves listening closer than they realised.
In a space that often favours volume, Marten chose softness. The Forum listened.
All photos by Katie Riley.