Meek

Live Nation Presents
MEEK
Plus Special Guest Tom A. Smith
In early autumn 2025, MEEK gave a digital stream of her anthemic signature tune,
Fabulous, to a friend. He was DJing that evening in the packed, neon-hued Chinatown
gay joint, Ku-Bar, London’s favoured home of emerging pop smashes. Meek is the
deeply, blissfully, gloriously ironic and real surname of
singer/songwriter/unapologetically outlandish pop vamp, Georgia Meek. For her
forthcoming debut album, MEEK allowed herself one unwritten maxim to apply to all
tunes. “These are songs that say I’m going to make my own space. I’m here, I’m fucking
weird, I don’t care, deal with it.”
Let’s let her take up the tale. The experience at Ku-Bar was expedient and immediately
readable. “I jumped up on the bar and started lip-syncing along,” she says. “I did half of
the first intro and then everyone – literally everyone in the bar - was screaming, ‘I’m so
fucking fabulous.’” Fabulous is one of those tunes that lodges in the brain not just on
first listen, but during the first four bars. Propulsive, energised pop majesty. “The whole
place went fucking nuts, it was so fun.” In terms of road-testing your material, there can
be no more stringent acid test than trying it out, loud in a neighbourhood gay disco,
while high-kicking on the bar. “I knew the song was instant,” she adds. “I just didn’t know
how instant.”
How did MEEK get here? Like everyone that wants to shout to be heard, Meek comes
from a mixture of an ordinariness she had to reject hard and a deep trauma she couldn’t
help but process. She is the only daughter of a wedding dress shop assistant mother,
from Ripley, an estate outside of Guildford and a father who dropped dead (“Literally out
of nowhere”) when she was 16, leaving the prodigiously gifted Georgia in loco parentis
to her two younger brothers. “And all that entailed.” By 18, she was studying music at
BIMM, while living with a physically and emotionally abusive boyfriend she’d met online,
to fill the horrific loneliness gap arriving in the capital, knowing nobody and having
recently buried one parent, while becoming estranged from the other (don’t worry, things
are good with mum, now. “She’s my biggest fan”) can sometimes result in. “I wanted to
understand everything,” she says, “and I knew that if I wanted to really do this, I would
have to do it all by myself.”
Incrementally, during a Production Masters (“More women should do production. I don’t
want to be at the will of a load of blokes in a storage unit in East Acton.”) and
self-schooling with the ride-or-die female friends and gay buddies who helped her out of
her domestic violence nightmares, her songwriting fire began to catch attention. Instead
of looking to her immediate surroundings, checking out charts and streaming stats,
Georgie widened her influence to the classics, the greats. “I love these outcast
characters that came from nothing and invented themselves. I just always found that so
inspiring. They gave me a lot of hope,…