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Chappell Roan - Brixton September 2024
A joyous celebration at the Pink Pony Club
By Pea Brayn
01 Feb 2025
She is performing at the 5,000-capacity O2 Academy Brixton – the first of three nights here. It’s laughably small for the superstar. But the knowledge that Roan could reasonably sell out Wembley at this point makes tonight even more of a special privilege to see her in such an intimate space. From the moment she struts in, it’s undeniable that Chappell Roan is the ultimate
Roan’s devotion to the art of drag is writ large across the Brixton stage tonight, an unapologetic spectacle of theatrical flair. Cloaked in her signature clown-white makeup and a sequined scarlet bodysuit, a sartorial nod to her track ‘My Kink Is Karma,’ she commands attention with an aesthetic that is both a bold homage to drag culture and a subtle tribute woven into every detail of her performance. It’s not just the look; it’s in the way she moves. As she glides through the pre-chorus of the opener, ‘Femininomenon,’ she punctuates each lyric with striking power poses, her hair catching the artificial breeze, her expression serving unrelenting intensity—the very essence of drag artistry distilled into motion.
The atmosphere detonates the moment she growls a demand to “play a song with a fucking beat.” The balconies quiver, and Brixton’s beleaguered rubber flooring groans under the euphoric weight of the crowd. The setlist is relentless in its momentum; Roan hurls hit after hit with infectious zeal. From the shimmering defiance of ‘Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl’ to the unbridled exuberance of ‘HOT TO GO!,’ the first half of the show is an unbroken chain of sonic fireworks.
Yet it is in the quieter moments that Roan’s artistry reveals its second act. Midway through, she unveils ‘Kaleidoscope,’ marking its debut on the European leg of her ‘Midwest Princess’ tour. The transformation is immediate: the frenetic energy dissipates, replaced by a reverent hush. Alone with her keyboard, bathed in a solitary spotlight, Roan’s voice becomes the night’s new axis. Breathless sighs, delicate vocal flips—each note a fragile thread spun from personal heartbreak—hold the crowd in rapt silence. It’s a masterclass in restraint, a reminder that true power often lies not in volume, but in vulnerability.
Roan may dazzle with the spectacle, but it’s the quiet brilliance between the beats that lingers long after the final note fades.