A Grammy Award for best new artist. Four top 10 hits since September 2024. Sold-out gigs packed with admirers in pink cowgirl hats wherever she goes.
At 27, Chappell Roan has unquestionably become one of pop’s new queens. But let it never be said that this powerhouse singer and songwriter rules without mercy.
As her band vamped on the intro to her song “Hot to Go!” on Friday night, Roan surveyed the tens of thousands spread across the leafy grounds surrounding the Rose Bowl in Pasadena.
“We’re gonna teach you a dance,” she said, though few in the audience probably needed the lesson at this point in Roan’s ascent. For more than a year, social media has been awash in video clips of Roan’s fans doing a “Y.M.C.A.”-like routine in time to the frenzied chorus of “Hot to Go!”
But wait a minute: “There’s a dad in the crowd that’s not doing it,” Roan reported with practiced disbelief. The band stopped playing. “There’s a dad that’s not doing it,” she repeated — less incredulous than reproving now.
“But he looks really, really nice, so I’m not gonna do anything about it.”
Friday’s show, which Roan said was the biggest headlining date she’d ever played, was the first of two at Brookside at the Rose Bowl to conclude a brief run of U.S. concerts she’s calling Visions of Damsels & Other Dangerous Things. The performances in New York, Kansas City and Pasadena can be seen as something of a victory lap after the slow-building success of her 2023 debut album, “The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess,” which beyond “Hot to Go!” has spun off numerous other hits including “My Kink Is Karma” and the inescapable “Pink Pony Club.”
That last song, which has more than a billion streams on Spotify and YouTube, documents a young queer woman’s sexual awakening at a West Hollywood gay club; Roan’s music sets thoughts of pleasure, heartache and self-discovery against a gloriously theatrical blend of synth-pop, disco, glam rock and old-fashioned torch balladry.
Having spent this past summer on the European festival circuit, she’s said that Visions of Damsels represents “the chance to do something special before going away to write the next album”; the mini-tour also keeps her in the conversation as nominations are being decided for next year’s Grammys, where she’s likely to vie for record and song of the year with “The Subway,” one of a handful of singles she’s released since “Midwest Princess.”
Yet as clearly as it showcased her natural star quality — the stage was designed like a gothic castle with various staircases for Roan to descend dramatically — this was really a demonstration of the intimate bond she’s forged with her fans, many of whom came to the show dressed in one of the singer’s signature looks: harlequin, majorette, prom queen, construction worker.
An hour or so into her 90-minute set, Roan sat in a giant throne with a toy creature she called her tour pet and recalled her move to Los Angeles nearly a decade ago from small-town Missouri.
“I had a really, really tough time the first five years,” she said, adding that she’d lived in Altadena when she first arrived. (In a bit of now-infamous Chappell Roan lore, she was dropped by Atlantic Records in 2020 after the label decided “Pink Pony Club” was not a hit.) She talked about how much she loves this city — “F— ICE forever,” she said at one point to huge applause — but bemoaned the “weird professionalism” she can feel when she’s onstage in L.A.
“I know there’s a lot of people in the music and film industry here, and I don’t want you to think about that,” she said. “Don’t f—ing talk about it. Don’t talk about work here. I just want you to feel like you did when you were a kid — when you were 13 and free.” She laughed.
“I’m just gonna shut up — I’m so dumb,” she said. Then she sang the lovelorn “Coffee” like someone confessing her greatest fear.
Though the castle set was impressively detailed, Roan’s production was relatively low-key by modern pop standards; she had no dancers and no special guests and wore just one costume that she kept removing pieces from to end up in a kind of two-piece dragon-skin bikini.
But that’s because at a Chappell Roan show, Chappell Roan is the show: a fearsomely talented purveyor of feeling and attitude whose campy sense of humor only heightens the exquisite melancholy of her music.
Her singing was immaculate yet hot-blooded, bolstered by a killer band that remade songs like “Good Luck, Babe!” and “Red Wine Supernova” as slashing ’80s-style rock; Roan covered Heart’s “Barracuda” with enough strutting imperiousness to compete with Nancy Wilson’s iconic guitar riff.
“The Giver” was a stomping glitter-country hoedown, “Naked in Manhattan” a naughty electro-pop romp. For “Picture You,” which is about longing to know a lover’s secrets, Roan serenaded a blond wig plopped atop a mic stand — a bit of absurdist theater she played completely straight.
The heart of the concert was the stunning one-two punch of “Casual” into “The Subway,” Roan’s most grandly emotional ballads, in which her voice soared with what seemed like total effortlessness.
After that is when the singer noticed that kindly dad shirking his duties in “Hot to Go!” Maybe the poor guy was just too dazzled to take part.
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