Leading up to the first night of Lana Del Rey’s 2025 Stadium Tour at Wembley, one of my friends told me “I’ve seen the Lana concert on TikTok, and I’m not hearing good things”. When I got home, I immediately scoured through all the video reviews (Gen Z’s version of Google).
The general consensus was dissatisfaction, from reels to whole comment sections complaining about her lateness, short setlist, country song covers, and general unprofessionalism.
I chose not to harp on it too much, opting for blissful ignorance, as I’d already seen her at Hyde Park two years ago, where she delivered an ethereal night.
In 2023, while coming on half an hour late, she looked like she’d never felt that comfortable on a stage, swinging, dancing, writhing and even jumping with an electric, childlike ease. At other times, she embodied femininity and combined those glassy vocals with the powerhouse belting of her three backup singers, who she introduced us to by name (Melodye Perry, Pattie Howard, and Shikena Jones), as well as the gentle voice of her pianist (Byron Thomas).
At Wembley, Lana was just as late as the last and, while a bit stiffer than the previous show, it was the most relaxed she’d looked on her UK & Ireland tour so far. Opening with 2 unreleased songs from her tentative upcoming album The Right Person Will Stay and a tranquil Tammy Wynette cover, she moved with a knowing grace, calmly staring into the mass of iPhone cameras and flashlights with a knowing gaze (“I even think I found God / In the flashbulbs of the pretty cameras“).
Some viewers had an issue with the set decor and dancers. There were two camps. The first was those who thought it wasn’t enough (and oddly even branded Lana ‘low energy’, so I assume they must be new here). The second was some die hard fans who thought it was too much, and that she needed to focus on captivating the audience with her haunting vocals, nothing more than a cigarette in her hand (think Glastonbury 2014).
Personally, I like the low level theatrics and the ‘burning house’ illusion was reminsicent of her core mythos, the hopeless romanticisation of ‘the American Dream’. It’s great that she uses the same backup dancers, with familiar faces and endless grace, so the ‘bells and whistles’ seem like a natural and authentic progression of Lana’s stardom.
Another difference was that, last time I saw her, Lana came down to our side of the barrier to sign cowboy boots, a copy of The Bell Jar, and random forearms, addressing each person individually with a stoic smile.
This time, fans were disappointed that she never really went down to the barricades with those who queued for hours, and only seemingly engaged with one infamously annoying fan called Ricardo, who pushed his way to the front.
In her defence, part of Lana’s charm is that she’s shy and pretty introverted, like most of her fans, so was probably holding onto a familiar face. Some if it reminded me of how I would act if I had to go on stage in front of 90,000 people – which, while endearing, isn’t always a great thing, since she’s had significant accolades and two decades of experience. It wasn’t a huge issue, but accidental tactlessness is what lands her into hot water sometimes.
Granted, Lana takes some time to warm up, and it’s really only in the past five years that she’s amassed this big of a following. One of my biggest takeaways of the night was the gaping reality of how many people are now fans of my beloved, once underrated, niche indie artist who emerged from the confines of both my tumblr and bedroom walls, draped in vintage Americana.
The crowd contained some clear locals (easy to spot in their pink tiara cowboy hats and Shakira-esque belts), botoxed “Mean Girls” and their moms à la that Charli xcx song, and OG girlies and gays crowned in plastic daisies and makeshift white veils.
There was an annoying, but admittedly on-brand, group of weed vaping 20 somethings taking turns on each others shoulders to wave an American flag with Lana’s BTD pout plastered on it, their cowboy boots annoyingly bumping my butt, trying desperately to be shown on the big screen – but to not avail.
Lana often ads iconic ad libs to her song. My personal favourite in Hyde Park was “he got married while we were in couples therapy”, which she shadily threw in at the end of “Chemtrails over the Country Club”. At Wembley, finally happy and secure in her relationship, Chemtrails was the first released song she played, and she changed “he’s born in December and I’m born in June” to “he’s born in March“, also distancing herself from her toxic attachment to old men (that December is a euphemism for).
Don’t get me wrong, Lana still managed to make us tear up. There’s something about watching that kind of quiet confidence and femininity that’s inspiring and makes you want to mirror it. You feel divine the next day, a siren floating spellbound by that song stuck in your head from the night before.
“Ultraviolence” was the second released song she performed. Before it played, the opening sighs of Saint Avangeline’s “Lilith” could seemingly be heard as the dancers peeked out from the house windows and gracefully swung their legs on the faux trees.
Finally, Lana was revealed on the big screen, lying on a dancer’s thigh, another dancer’s head by her lap. She unabashedly sang “he hit me and it felt like a kiss”, a line she had said she would omit during the peak of the #MeToo movement. Referencing The Crystals’ 1962 song by the same name, it’s clear her controversial ‘Question for the Culture’ Instagram note empowered her to lean into the brutally raw honesty of her lyricism, even if it’s clumsy phrasing wasn’t well received.
“Ride” evoked such an entrancing atmsophere, with the crowd singing so loud you could hardly hear Lana, and it literally brought tears to our eyes (even though I wasn’t a huge fan of the country instrumentals inserted into the track).
It was preluded by the “Ride Monologue”, visually spliced with snippets from Tropico, her short film, which was shown again later, overlaid with Allen Ginsberg’s ‘Howl” (“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked“).
When Lana mentioned her father, she pointed at Rob Grant, who was at the right side of the stage, wearing something suspiciously like Hawaiian shorts, at least from the maximum zoom lens of my iPhone 15.
Then there was the infamous hologram (which I embarrassingly fell for in the first few minutes). It was definitely a travesty to have both “NFR” and “Arcadia” (her only Blue Bannisters song) playing as a mere recording during Lana’s outfit change (or vape break), which was disappointingly similar to the first look.
However, the train on her dress during “Young and Beautiful”, floating behind her like we were at a faerie wedding, was a net positive. “Summertime Sadness”, “Video Games” and “Born to Die” were also beautifully sung, as Lana flaunted her heavenly vocals. She even graced us with a cover of “Venice Bitch” that contained some elements of the ‘Taco Truck x VB’.
There was also Addison Rae, who really delivered pop charisma and magnetism. She looked, danced and sounded just like her art house music videos, hip-thrusting and even doing bicycle kicks during her dance breaks.
Addison’s own London leg of her eponymous tour is sold out, so it was a treat to see and hear her woozy star power. As she posed at the end of songs like “Fame is a Gun” and “Aquamarine”, she broke out into a cheeky, girl next door smile that makes you immediately root for her.
Her male dancer, Patrick, also added sensuality and tension to songs like “Summer Forever” and “Diet Pepsi”, as he laid her gently on the floor, very reminiscent of early Lana.
Lana always supports and brings out younger artists, even some who have been accused of stealing her dividends after she had already set the stage for melancholic, less produced music (such as Billie Eilish, Camila Cabello, and the more alternative Tommy Genesis who features on “Peppers” and also played at Hyde Park).
In reality, Lana ran so that these younger artists could walk, but it shows her character and integrity that she is not only a fan, but actively platforming them when she can. Going from a TikToker to a Wembley arena in a year is literally unheard of. While I find the term cringe, I think the ‘girls girl’ label really does apply to Lana, who travels with her sister and an entourage of hometown friends.
She brought a beaming Addison out at the end, dueting Diet Pepsi, the most Lana-coded single (“this song is so nice I want to sing it twice”) and 57.5 (“I still talk to Jesus, yes/ But I still call up psychics when I need advice“).
At least “Country Roads”, the finale, provided a time for ‘fake fans’ to leave, or so I thought. In actuality, they had the great idea to avoid the hellscape awaiting us at all the nearby stations.
While it was fun at the time, as we held our breaths for a final glimpse or surprise from Lana that never came, this cover was probably just as fun as one of those Covent Garden street performers (and at least those singers also play an instrument). The guitarist covering Cruel World outside the arena as 100+ people waited in line for their backpacks, and three blonde waifs danced him as they took selfies, was also very Lana.
Did I love the Wembley concert? Absolutely. If I was less of a fan, would I feel a bit swindled? I guess so. It all went a bit quickly and, if this was my first time seeing her, I probably would have been disappointed at the lack of range and country push, given that her alleged folk album doesn’t even have a release date.
Lana’s best scapegoat in this whole thing is her personality; anything she does that’s lazy or careless is immediately branded ‘free spirited’ and ‘so Lana’, so she can get away with doing bizarre and half-hearted things because it’s ‘on-brand’ for her.
However, it also feels like her heart isn’t fully into the new music she’s making, and there will be a point where it could get boring. That point isn’t here yet, but I unselfishly want her to get her act together so she can have more huge tours in the future, even if the tickets remain these eye watering prices.
While I loved when she was almost unknown, we can’t go back to the 2010s, so it’s better to charge forward so she can get the recognition she truly deserves – and start matching up the stage performances with the studio genius. With a few minor tweaks (timeliness, longer setlist and cult favourite songs), her true fans would have felt as elated as I did that first time I saw her in Hyde Park.
Then, she had cooed, “we’re bringing you to church tonight… don’t be scared to embrace that feeling”.
This year, Lana brought us to something more like a mass Bible study, when we were expecting a holy communion. But my inner 14-year-old self felt happy and inspired nonetheless.
More on Lana’s concert:
Watch Swiftologist’s video for another, more constructive take on the UK & Ireland tour:
This in-depth video essay explores the metaphysics of Nabokov’s Lolita and Lana, with particularly interesting insight into her Paradise Lost references:
My Goddess Complex 
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