Since their arrival onto the alternative pop scene with debut Lungs (2009), Florence & The Machine — fuelled by the mystical aura of singer Florence Welch — have maintained a fascinating creative trajectory firmly establishing them as a dominant force in the British cultural zeitgeist. With the release of their extraordinary most recent album Everybody Scream, imbued with themes of witchcraft, rage, and catharsis, this momentum shows no signs of stopping.
The vulnerability of Everybody Scream — upon which this tour is centred — is remarkable, examining the aftermath of the ordeals Welch has endured over the last few years. This includes the miscarriage of an ectopic pregnancy onstage in 2023, an experience that makes her ability to embark on this tour, to reclaim the stage, even more breathtaking. She herself acknowledges the courage of this endeavour, admitting over the course of the performance that songs left her “shaking with fear”. The album itself embraces mysticism and folklore like never before, as if casting a spell of protection and courage — rallying the pain, the anger and the resilience of generations of women to her aid.
A medieval veil draped over the stage like a ship’s sail greeted us as we fought for the closest position to the front. I was left in no doubt I had come to the right place, surrounded by fans adorned with floral wreaths, flowing gowns and cascading (sometimes ginger) locks. The anticipation amongst the crowd was palpable, only fuelled by opener Paris Paloma’s raw and bitingly political performance.
Paris Paloma certainly set the tone for the night, lyrics describing the systematic pain and injustice that women are expected to endure throughout their lives. Aided by a highly effective minimalist set design, an — in her own words — “human-made” graphic, and complimented by warm-toned lighting, she succeeded in capturing the audience’s attention. Plus, her vocals were magnificent. Although, in the more stripped back stages of her set I felt the momentum slipped slightly.
Following a nail-biting final wait, the veil was suddenly sucked into oblivion, and nobody was left in doubt — the show had begun. Sweeping down the outstretched stage barefoot (and I would expect no less) was Florence, witchlets in tow, the Machine rumbling into action behind her. Energy rippled outwards, and Florence’s masterful stage presence commanded the room while roaring the lyrics to the title track, ‘Everybody Scream’. I have no doubt that Florence loved every second as she cast a spell on the wrapt audience, their faces gazing up at her. The spectacle was overwhelming — Florence was back like a hero returning from battle, a witch returning to her coven.
Whether perched at the stage’s edge, hanging into the crowd or positioned amongst The Machine, it’s clear that upon the stage, Florence is at once calm and focused, reclaiming the space and encouraging the community gathered to assist her in this endeavour, even encouraging us to use the music to liberate ourselves from whatever mind forged manacles of self-consciousness are holding them back. As expected, the Newcastle crowd did not disappoint, delivering bucketfuls of energy and passion.
The mix was crisp and clear, displaying Florence and The Machine in all their glory, especially the harp which majestically coated the sonic layers with ease, exuding an almost other-worldly character that only contributed harmonic depth to the overwhelming spectacle under observance.
Every song stayed true to the new album’s thematic foundations, then proceeded to elevate them. The parting song ‘And Love,’ with its awe-inspiring cascading harp melody, perfectly tied together each thematic dimension of the performance — the pain and love, spirituality and anguish. The track was transformed into a prayer of hope and peace for all; this was a gesture that left me not only incredibly moved but inspired as I reflected on the sheer power of the performance I had just witnessed.
“Florence and the Machine at Coachella” by Jason Persse is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.