Kelsy Karter and The Heroines know how to make an entrance. She’s passionate from the off, her delivery on the mournful, solo opening to “God Knows I’ve Tried” a study in how to command a room that isn’t hers. When she plays “Cover You”, she jokes that she has songs about love and heartbreak… “this one’s about sex,” and suddenly the crowd is hers anyway.
Her cover of “Cryin’” by Aerosmith is impressively handled, but it’s “Lightning in a Bottle” – dedicated to the band around her, The Heroines – that becomes the real moment. Before “Cryin’”, she talks about someone who was going to make her a star, and it hints at the long road she’s taken to get here. She closes with “Devil On My Shoulder”, and even in the slower sway of “Liquor Store on Mars” she shows that the woman many first heard of because she pretended to tattoo Harry Styles onto her face is long past the gimmicks. She’s headed in only one direction now, and that direction is up.
If Karter is all swagger and charisma, then Bloodywood are an explosion. New Delhi’s own arrive like a whirlwind – all movement, all impact – grabbing every person in the room and shaking them into their world. The riffs are heavy, but the backbone is a very nu-metal bounce: like if Linkin Park had been born on the subcontinent and levelled everything in sight.
Their songs come with messages. “Dana Dan” is introduced with the line that alcohol-fuelled violence is bad enough, “but sexual violence against women can taste our boot.” The centre of their set, though, is the huge, sunlit “Bekhauf”, all unity and uplift, the closest they come to that Babymetal-flavoured anthem. “Nu Delhi” brings a mystical swirl, a clashing and melding of cultures that makes total sense in their hands.
They finish with the extended “Machi Bhasad (Expect A Riot)”, and while they insist they’re not “big at home yet”, it’s extremely clear they’ll be headlining far bigger venues over here very soon.
Before she plays “Watch Out!”, Lizzy Hale demands: “Where’s my bitches at?” The roar that comes back tells its own story. Halestorm walk on to a crowd ready to follow her anywhere. This is the full arena-rock experience – pyro, fireworks, confetti – but none of that matters unless the band has the connection to back it up. Halestorm do.
Opening with “Fallen Star” and “I Miss the Misery”, they quickly hammer home why they’re here: songs that connect with people everywhere, all at once. “Love Bites (So Do I)” still hits like a riot. “I Get Off” snarls with that twisted, theatrical edge Lizzy does so well — the kind of dark-glam Alice Cooper energy she channels again later when “Broken Doll” makes its appearance in the set.
She summons the shadows for “Like a Woman Can”, and for “How Will You Remember Me?” she stands at the piano and tells the room to tell the people they love that they love them tonight. Earlier she’d talked about fans with “I Am the Fire” tattoos, and she isn’t shy of theatre either – the “Familiar Taste of Poison” snippet arrives with full cape-dramatic flourish.
Arjay Hale’s drum solo is its usual spectacle-with-big sticks moment, and somehow after that they shift into an even bigger gear: “Freak Like Me” is titanic, “Miss Hyde” a gut punch, “Killing Ourselves to Live” ferocious, “Uncomfortable” a rallying cry to tell the world exactly where to go.
They close the main set with “I Gave You Everything”, and she absolutely has. Hale, Joe Hottinger, Josh Smith and Arjay are a band built for stages this size.
The encore begins with a heartfelt “Perry Mason”, doubly poignant because the last time they played this city was at the Sabbath celebration at Villa Park. Finally, “Everest” brings the streamers, the confetti, and the triumphant ending this night deserves.
On one level it’s a rock show – loud, polished, explosive. On another, it’s proof that Lizzy Hale and Halestorm speak to their audience, reach their audience, in a way very few bands ever manage.
