LIVE REVIEWS
When Lana Del Rey announced her first stadium headline tour last year, you would be forgiven for thinking it might not be a combination that would work. On paper, her music isn’t the most obvious fit for such cavernous venues, her material often too quiet, soft and beautiful to sound like it wouldn’t get lost trying to reach all corners. Nor does the nature of Del Rey’s output lend itself to a typical stadium production of pyrotechnics and high-octane choreography.
As she kicks off the tour in Cardiff tonight (June 23), though, Del Rey proves once again that she knows best. Throughout the set, she’s a compelling force in her own gentle way, and while there’s no actual fireworks, she brings plenty to the stage that feels just as attention-grabbing and exciting, and at times more innovative than her fellow stadium-filling peers.
The staging for this tour transforms Principality Stadium into a Southern idyll. The iron-wrought mansion of her festival run for the last two years is replaced by a modest house with a porch swing and white picket fence, a small pond out front and, down some steps and at the end of a small runway, a gently rippling moat strewn with white flowers. Trees and poles designed like lampposts flank the building, all becoming props for her dancers as they glide and twirl from rooftop to branches, porch swing to lamppost.
It’s the perfect setting for the new setlist she’s curated for this run – a country-leaning selection that would have showcased her 10th album, if its scheduled May release hadn’t been delayed. Del Rey vaguely acknowledges this after an early cover of Tammy Wynette’s ‘Stand By Your Man’, telling the audience: “We’re basically running through the new album without the album.”
In reality, that means four new songs scattered among some of her most beloved work. ‘Stars Fell On Alabama’ provides an emotional opener, its lyrics refusing to let anything come between her and her “husband of mine”, leaving Del Rey in tears and briefly walking off stage to share a kiss with her partner, Jeremy Dufrene. “They’re good tears,” she assures us as she makes her way back to the middle of the stage. “It’s just actually funny to think about in front of so many people. This feels good to get that out of our system.”
‘57.5’, which got its live debut at Stagecoach earlier this year, already feels like a fan-favourite, the crowd already word perfect without an official release. But it’s ‘Quiet In The South’, which appears in the middle of a glorious run of older material, that’s the most striking. Soundtracked by swooping pedal steel and acoustic guitar, a miniature replica of the house Del Rey sits in front of is wheeled on stage, and her dancers open it up to marvel at tiny furniture.
Behind them, the singer asks, “Are you coming home tonight? / Should I turn off the light or burn down your house?”, foreshadowing her companions bringing out petrol bottles and dousing the stage, before lighting, projections and smoke make it appear as if the house – and its miniature – is ablaze, that Southern idyll of the early set crumbling in real time.
It’s part of a longing and a search for answers that pervades the whole show, save for a handful of tracks, ‘Stars Fell On Alabama’ among them. It’s there in ‘Ride’’s quest for peace and reprieve on the open road, in ‘…Ocean Blvd’’s wondering of “When’s it gonna be my turn?”, and in ‘Young And Beautiful’’s hope of still being perceived as worthy of love in decades to come. Before the latter, a hologram version of Del Rey and her dancers flickers in and out of view, adding to the feeling of searching and a life in disorder.
Earlier, a digital version of Del Rey appears in the upstairs window of the house, sitting cross-legged and looking out at the sea of people as versions of ‘Norman Fucking Rockwell’ and ‘Arcadia’ play over the PA. It’s undoubtedly inventive, but also ever-so-slightly disappointing not to get full, live renditions of two of Del Rey’s best songs.
She makes up for it later by adding a touch of spontaneity to the end of the show. “I’m just trying to think of one little thing that I could do that I didn’t plan,” she ponders before walking down to the front row of the crowd and conversing with one fan. “We were thinking maybe I’d do a little bit of ‘Salvatore’ a cappella,” she explains moments later, getting a reminder of the song’s lyrics through a crew member’s phone.
What follows perfectly sums up the Lana Del Rey stadium experience – she doesn’t need gimmicks and flash to conquer such enormous venues. All she needs is her exquisite voice and beautifully written songs, delivered with as much heart and emotion as she shares tonight. It might not have seemed obvious at first, but once you’ve witnessed it, Del Rey the stadium headliner feels like a very natural fit after all.
‘Stars Fell On Alabama’
‘Henry, Come On’
‘Stand By Your Man’
‘Chemtrails Over The Country Club’
‘Ultraviolence’
‘Ride’
‘Video Games’
‘Norman Fucking Rockwell’
‘Arcadia’
‘Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd’
‘Quiet In The South’
‘Young And Beautiful’
‘Summertime Sadness’
‘Born To Die’
’57.5’
‘Salvatore’
‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’
LIVE REVIEWS
The closing hours of Reading 2026 have finally arrived. Florence + The Machine brought the rain during ‘Dog Days Are Over’ at The Grid, opening the heavens and leaving the festival site completely soaked. The weary fans who have stayed behind are wet, exhausted and clearly feeling the effects of the weekend. What they need now is one final enormous celebration to make the wait worthwhile.
The Gallery tent comes alive as the speakers blast ‘Favourite’ by Friday’s headliners and fellow countrymen Fontaines D.C., receiving the kind of reaction usually reserved for ‘Mr Brightside’ at a drunken wedding reception. Moments later, Kneecap display their familiar statement accusing Israel of carrying out genocide against the people of Palestine and Lebanon, with support from the UK government. It captures the Belfast rap trio perfectly, combining serious political messages with an unapologetic party atmosphere.
“We use our platform to talk about what we believe is right,” Mo Chara explains during the performance, before recognising those who “aren’t so fucking lucky” and whose voices have been suppressed. He soon encourages the audience to roar “fuck Netanyahu” and “free free Palestine”. Later, he starts a powerful chant of “Aaaaaa-ndy Buuurn-ham’s a waaaaaaan-ker” to the melody of ‘Seven Nation Army’, targeting our new Prime Minister over his claim that “a united Ireland is off the table”. Laughing, he asks: “The BBC won’t broadcast that, or will they?” As it turned out, they did not.
Away from the headlines and the controversy, there is no denying the connection Kneecap have built with their audience. Politics may shape the conversation, but the crowd also came to enjoy themselves, ready for a rave after the rally. The performance begins carefully with the heavy rumble of ‘Smugglers & Scholars’, before exploding during the Grian Chatten collaboration ‘Better Way To Live’ and the threatening energy of ‘Sick In The Head’. “Are ya ready for a mad one?” Mo Chara shouts. The response is already obvious.
The atmosphere becomes increasingly chaotic as the hip hop rhythm of ‘Cold At The Top’ and the hypnotic trance sounds of ‘An Ra’ send the entire tent into motion. The trio jokingly thank the UK for everything it has given Ireland, listing UKIP, fish and chips, a mental health crisis, Jimmy Saville, HP Sauce and Bloody Sunday. However, the show reaches another level once the second half begins. The explosive ‘Sayonara’ brings the ‘beef’ to ‘IBEEFA’, while ‘Get Your Brits Out’ and ‘Guilty Conscience’ give the crowd every reason to obey Móglaí Bap’s demand to “oooopen up the piiiiiit”.
Anyone watching closely may have questioned why the cameras continued to focus on Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara. The pair eventually reveal that they have spent recent weeks performing alongside a “provisional” DJ Próvai. Wearing the familiar tricolour balaclava, the temporary replacement handles his role as the crowd agitator with confidence while their bandmate enjoys some paternity leave. “Some things are more important than music, and that’s family,” they explain. How sweet. Móglaí Bap quickly destroys the tender moment by adding: “As you might know, the Brits took all our potatoes from Ireland; they took all our cocaine,” before declaring, “but we still have all our caaandy.” The group then charge directly into one of the biggest tracks ever written about extremely powerful ketamine.
‘Liar’s Tale’ sparks another huge reaction with its response to Keir Starmer, “genocide armer”, while the group warn that “you’re not getting away with doing nothing”. It is a politically charged message hidden inside an irresistible anthem from musicians who have experienced the “belly of the beast” through the legal system. Their latest album, ‘Fenian’, has helped Kneecap fully embrace the celebration that has always been part of their identity. Their live production now feels capable of filling arenas, blending the intimacy of a late night lock in with the rhythmic force and visual scale of The Chemical Brothers, the reckless electronic punk spirit of The Prodigy, and the fearless political honesty of Public Enemy. The spectacular visuals complete the experience.
Kneecap fans at Reading 2026. Credit: Andy Ford for NME
Kneecap fans at Reading 2026. Credit: Andy Ford for NME
Closing with the powerful combination of ‘Fenian’, ‘H.O.O.D.’ and the enormous ‘The Recap’, Kneecap bring our final celebration at Reading to a thrilling conclusion while also finishing their last festival appearance of the summer. “It’s been a pleasure to spend it with you mad c**ts,” Mo Chara says before leaving the stage. The feeling is mutual.
Return to NME here for the newest reports, reviews, photographs, conversations and further coverage from Reading & Leeds 2026.
