If You Pay for a Sky Ferreira Show, You Get a Sky Ferreira Show

As a 14-year-old, hyper-obsessive, Tumblr-addicted music nerd, flicking through the limited skips on the Pandora music app was always a risky experience. The Arctic Monkeys’ AM station (it was 2014, give me a break) was often a gold mine before you’d hit a dry spout of boring, formulaic, sad-boy indie music that all sounded the same.

So when I came across the thrashing 80s pop-rock song “You’re Not The One” by an enigma (was it a band? Was it a person?) only known to me as Sky Ferreira, my world shifted. Underneath the dirt and rubble was a girl with bleached blonde hair, an iconic pout, and a sound that was full of angst, rage, desire and heartache.

Sky Ferreira’s Night Time, My Time is easily one of the most iconic pop albums to come out of the 2010s. Its anthemic hooks and distorted, synth-heavy instrumentals blurred the lines of what pop music was at the time. But more than 10 years later, most of the fans who found her at the peak of her career are in their early to mid-20s with bills to pay. The thoughtless, adolescent fury that fuelled us when we’d scream along to “I Blame Myself” has been generated into passive-aggressive texts with our landlord.

Could the nostalgia of listening to Sky on the bus home from school translate to a crowd of adults in 2024?

The space: 4 stars

The Joan Sutherland Theatre inside the Opera House made sense for a gig like this. Smaller than the Concert Hall, bigger than the Utzon Room, intimate but spacious at the same time. Beautiful. It didn’t feel like I was surrounded by almost 1000 people in the room. However, that emptiness would be felt a lot more as the night progressed (we’ll get into this later).

For a concert filled with adults, adults, and more adults, the seats were a lifesaver. You could see the stage from anywhere, too, whether standing or sitting. Big win.

My only qualm: the space between each row of seats needs to be wider. Ass in my face and alcohol spills on my new Mary Janes from crowd members scooting along in my row was not on the cards for my night.

The timing: 2 stars

By the time the clock hit 7:30 PM – the expected start time of the show – the room was alive, filled with a bustle of attendees eagerly rushing to fill their seats. This would last at least another 15-20 minutes, which was perfect given Sky hadn’t come on yet. But we weren’t expecting the wait to last as long as it did.

An hour later, the noise of the crowd became less of an excited chatter and more of a disturbed annoyance. The show still hadn’t started, and there was no actual indication it was going to anytime soon.

“Sky’s at The Star, I just know it,” my friend jokes, making light of the situation.

“She’s just trying to get her eyeliner right but her hand keeps shaking,” I respond.

Earlier, we had joked about seeing her jump the opal gates at Circular Quay train station to save travel costs – though we wish that were the case, so at least she’d have been on time.

Around 8:40, the Opera House plays an Acknowledgement of Country over the concert speakers – a formality that usually suggests the performance is about to start. But there is no sign of Sky onstage and the pre-show music playlist starts up again over the speakers. Then the worst possible thing (besides maybe a death) that could happen at a concert, happens: the crowd starts booing.

The boos made me want to fold into the crevices of my seat and disappear. Have we all just been pranked?

Alas, at a whopping 8:53 PM, an hour and 23 minutes after the show was supposed to start, Sky and her band emerge from the side of the stage to begin.

Finally.

Once the show wrapped, my friend informed me that Sky’s shows have a history of lateness. Glad I found out the hard way.

The crowd: 3.5 stars

Enthusiastic at the start, restless towards the end.

For the first half hour of the show, headbanging, hair whipping and throwing your arms around uncontrollably were the norm. During some of her more popular songs like “Boys”, “24 Hours” and “I Blame Myself”, the crowd erupted, singing word-for-word as if it were the last time sound would ever escape our mouths. It was a beautiful, unifying feeling that made the experience almost feel out-of-body.

But as the show progressed the energy dwindled. And understandably so. Many people chose to sit for the rest of the show, some even decided to leave early. I’m the kind of person who feeds off the energy around me and I left the night feeling a bit…sour.

The performance: 5 stars

5 stars, no notes. The mic was ON.

I so badly wanted her to sound bad or drastically different live so I could have a reason to be pissed off by the lateness of the show, but her performance exceeded all expectations I had.

From her raspy low notes to her belting high notes, her range truly shines on a live stage. Her band was equally phenomenal. Amazing, impeccable, stunning.

The lighting: 2 stars

I’m giving the lighting 2 positive stars because of the use of bisexual lighting (if you know, you know). Every bisexual girl in that room who attended the concert with their straight, cis boyfriend felt seen.

However, there was no spotlight, or any bright-coloured light, to illuminate Sky or her band members. She was just a black-coated shadow. Like the Babadook. I have reason to believe that this has something to do with her performance anxiety and being seen or watched on stage, so if true, she gets a pass.

But the fog machine being set to max power was just a bit of a fucked mess. Giving Thriller. Not a fan.

The experience: 4 stars

Look…it’s literally Sky Ferreira. I paid for what I got, and what I got was the Sky Ferreira experience.

Lateness, horrible lighting, almost no interaction with the crowd, ignored every “I love you” a fan would yell out, the stage looked like the set of The Fog (2005), but she played music that could make a grown man cry.

Was it worth it? Fucking oath it was.

Adele is the Junior Writer & Producer for VICE AU/NZ. Follow her on Instagram and Twitter here.

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