On paper, Lana Del Rey is not what you might call a stadium performer. For all her Grammys and No 1s, she is not a singer who trades in viral dance routines, elaborate costume changes and confetti cannons. Instead, Del Rey is characteristically demure on stage; the most choreography you’ll get out of her is a polite sway of the hips. It wasn’t for the first time, then, when she kicked off her UK and Ireland tour this week, that her subdued performance became the subject of torrid discourse. The words “lacklustre” and “unbothered” cropped up more than once. Thankfully, neither applies to tonight’s triumphant show at Wembley Stadium.
Del Rey is glamorous and delicate as she pads across the porch of a wood-panelled house enveloped by twinkly constellations and faux trees. She pauses at its centre for orchestral opener “Stars Fell on Alabama”, an unreleased song from her forthcoming (and much delayed) country record The Right Person Will Stay. No one knows the lyrics, but no one cares – so totally in thrall is everyone to the singer uttering them.
Tonight is strictly on her terms: the “in-between-albums” nature of this tour means that Del Rey performs three covers and three unreleased cuts, along with 10 tracks from her wider discography (the omission of older, popular material has been another point of criticism). To expect a stadium tour tick-box exercise from Del Rey, though, would be to completely misunderstand her both as a musician and as a woman.
Artistically, everything is meticulously thought through. Del Rey channels the dark, alluring Americana imagery upon which she built a cult following with her 2012 melancholic pop debut Born to Die. Hair coiffed into a beehive ponytail, she floats across the stage in a gold 1960s swing dress complete with a jumbo bow on its sash: a Stepford wife for the modern age.
In lieu of any choreography, she sways gently on a rocking chair – other times she dangles on a swing. The real dancing is left up to two women who bend their bodies into majestic shapes on poles erected on opposite sides of the stage. On the screen, her faint collarbone tattoos are visible, namechecking trailblazers like Amy Winehouse, Billie Holiday, Whitney Houston and Nina Simone. Del Rey’s own vocals, that Old Hollywood voice equal parts smooth and smoky, have become as distinctive and recognisable as those of any of her idols.
Swathes of white fabric waft behind her for “Chemtrails Over the Country Club”, the title song from her 2021 record, as she practically winks at the audience when she sings: “Baby, what’s your sign? My moon’s in Leo, my Cancer is sun.” The crowd whispers it back. Over the haunting electric guitar riff of “Ultraviolence”, she splays herself on top of a human mound of dancers. The nostalgia of such a hit, released during a time when gritty Tumblr feeds were littered with Del Rey album covers, is palpable.
It is a shame, then, that the rest of the set-list leaves the audience feeling somewhat short-changed – not least when a hologram performs on Del Rey’s behalf for hit tracks “Norman F***ing Rockwell” and “Arcadia”. The singer is in the wings somewhere, while a digitised Del Rey croons sitting cross-legged in a window. There are also rogue interludes, such as when her virtual incarnation delivers Allen Ginsberg’s 1955 poem “Howl”. Sure, it might be meaningful, but for many it’s just a chance to pop to the loo.
Any bad feeling, though, is washed away by a victory lap of the early hits that vaulted her to fame, “Video Games” and “Ride” among them. “Done my hair up real big, beauty queen style/ High heels off, I’m feelin’ alive,” she coos on “Summertime Sadness”. The final throwback of the night, 2012’s “Born to Die”, leaves many choking back tears.
Just when it feels like we’re about to be sent home in a state of emotional hysteria, Addison Rae – the TikTokker-turned-pop star and tonight’s support act – joins Del Rey for a duet of her sultry hit “Diet Pepsi”. The pair are completely besotted with one another. “She’s so magical and likeminded,” Del Rey says of her guest. “I love this song so much... It’s so nice, I wanna hear it twice.”
By the end of the show, which closes with a singalong cover of John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads”, some of the crowd have joined hands and are skipping around in a circle. It’s pure joy, a Lana Del Rey version of a moshpit. The singer certainly feels the same. “I just feel really excited,” she concludes decisively. “And really ready.”
