This is the thing with good singers — even if you don’t understand the language of their words, their singing translates its meaning for you. New Yorker’s description of Julien Baker is so accurate.
“There are videos online of her singing in a library, in a fluorescent parking garage, on top of crumbling stadium bleachers, in an empty dive bar. All of these quotidian places become temporarily sacrosanct when Baker is performing in them; the raw purity of her vocalise seems to convert the everyday into the divine. With Baker in the frame, any parking lot can revert into a paradise.”
Here is evidence of their claim.