The night Laufey brought her tour to Nashville’s Bridgestone Arena in 2025 felt like stepping into a dreamscape—one part vintage jazz club, one part fairytale theater, all wrapped in the grace and warmth of her Icelandic charm. For an artist whose music thrives on intimacy and emotional precision, translating that to a cavernous arena might have seemed risky. But Laufey—ever poised, ever luminous—made the space feel personal. With a string quartet, grand piano, and a voice that could hush thousands into silence, she turned Bridgestone into her own candlelit world.
The stage design alone was a marvel: soft golden lights, hanging chandeliers, and flowing curtains that shimmered like a 1950s ballroom. Each act of the show unfolded like a new chapter in a storybook, with Laufey guiding the audience through heartbreak, nostalgia, and rediscovery. Nashville’s crowd, known for its appreciation of musicianship, met her with reverent enthusiasm—applauding solos, cheering every familiar intro, and falling utterly silent when she sang in that delicate, resonant tone that has become her signature.
Setlist:
ACT 1
-
Clockwork
-
Lover Girl
-
Dreamer
-
Falling Behind
-
Silver Lining
-
Bored
-
Too Little, Too Late
ACT 2
8. Seems Like Old Times (Carmen Lombardo cover)
9. Valentine (Jazz Version)
10. Fragile (Jazz Version)
11. While You Were Sleeping (Jazz Version)
12. Let You Break My Heart Again
ACT 3
13. Carousel
14. Forget-Me-Not
15. Cuckoo Ballet (Interlude)
ACT 4
16. Mr. Eclectic
17. Castle in Hollywood
18. Promise
19. Goddess
20. Tough Luck
21. Snow White
22. From the Start
23. Sabotage
Encore:
24. Dear Soulmate (Surprise Song)
25. Letter to My 13 Year Old Self
Act 1 – The Clockwork of Modern Romance
The evening began with “Clockwork,” the perfect introduction to Laufey’s balancing act between jazz tradition and contemporary storytelling. She appeared behind the grand piano, dressed in an elegant ivory gown that shimmered softly under amber lighting. The first few piano notes hushed the crowd instantly. “Time ticks on, but I stay the same,” she sang, her voice gliding with effortless precision. The strings swelled behind her, subtle yet cinematic, setting a tone of sophistication and emotional warmth.
“Lover Girl” and “Dreamer” followed, both showcasing her playful side. “Dreamer,” in particular, was buoyant—her phrasing light as air, her smile radiant. Between songs, she greeted the Nashville crowd with genuine affection. “You know, I’ve written so many songs about being hopelessly romantic,” she laughed, “and somehow, none of them have turned me into less of one.” The crowd adored her instantly.
“Falling Behind” carried a melancholy sweetness, its lilting rhythm wrapping the audience in wistful reflection. By the time she reached “Silver Lining,” the arena felt transformed. The delicate interplay between Laufey’s voice, the piano, and her small backing orchestra created an atmosphere both intimate and grand—a hallmark of her artistry.
“Bored” added a lighthearted contrast, her tongue-in-cheek delivery earning laughs. “Sometimes, being over someone is just… boring,” she said with a grin. Then came “Too Little, Too Late,” which closed Act 1 on a beautifully melancholic note. The final refrain—sung with aching restraint—hung in the air as the lights dimmed and a brief orchestral interlude bridged into Act 2.
Act 2 – The Jazz Lounge Reimagined
The set transitioned seamlessly into a new mood. The chandeliers dimmed, the band members shifted closer to center stage, and the lighting turned a moody sapphire blue. Laufey, now standing beside an upright bass and a small jazz trio, smiled softly before launching into “Seems Like Old Times.” Her rendition of the Carmen Lombardo classic was stunning—faithful to its vintage charm yet unmistakably her own. Her phrasing evoked the smoky lounges of Ella Fitzgerald’s era, yet her tone remained modern and youthful.
“Valentine,” reimagined in a slow jazz arrangement, became one of the evening’s highlights. She stretched the phrasing, lingering on each syllable with teasing control. Between lines, she playfully bantered with the bassist, creating a cozy, almost cabaret-like vibe.
Her jazz version of “Fragile” turned the original’s pop melancholy into a dusky torch song. Laufey’s ability to recontextualize her own work is a testament to her musical intelligence. When she shifted into “While You Were Sleeping,” another reworked number, her voice took on a haunting intimacy. You could hear a pin drop in the arena—no chatter, no shuffling, just pure reverence.
She closed Act 2 with “Let You Break My Heart Again,” a fan favorite that drew an audible gasp from the crowd at its first notes. The orchestra swelled behind her as she poured her heart into every line. By the song’s final chorus, her voice cracked ever so slightly—human, raw, beautiful. The audience erupted in applause before the lights faded to black once again.
Act 3 – Dreamlike Interlude
The stage glowed with soft pastel lighting as Act 3 began. “Carousel” opened this chapter, spinning gently on a delicate piano motif that evoked childhood wonder. Laufey’s voice floated over the melody like silk, her tone both innocent and wise.
“Forget-Me-Not” followed, its tender sincerity eliciting sighs from the audience. The lyrics, written with her characteristic blend of poetry and simplicity, felt deeply personal live. As she sang, “You’ll forget me, but I’ll bloom again,” the screen behind her displayed hand-drawn flowers slowly opening—an understated but stunning visual.
Then came “Cuckoo Ballet,” a purely instrumental interlude featuring her string players. It served as a graceful palate cleanser, bridging the emotional softness of the previous songs with the more powerful material to come. Laufey stood at the piano throughout, eyes closed, conducting lightly with her left hand. It was a moment of pure musicianship—a reminder that beneath her gentle demeanor lies a composer’s soul.
Act 4 – A Goddess in Her Element
When the stage lights returned, Laufey had changed into a shimmering blue gown, her hair pinned up like a 1940s starlet. The orchestra expanded, joined by a full rhythm section. She dove into “Mr. Eclectic,” a song full of playful irony and self-awareness. The live arrangement added a swinging rhythm that had the audience clapping along.
“Castle in Hollywood” followed, dreamy and cinematic, its lyrics reflecting the illusions of fame and the yearning for real connection. Nashville’s audience, often made up of working musicians and songwriters, seemed to feel this one deeply.
Her performance of “Promise” was another emotional high point. Her voice trembled on the softer passages, then soared gracefully into the chorus. Each lyric felt lived-in, as if she were rediscovering its meaning right there on stage.
Then came “Goddess,” introduced with a wry smile. “This one’s about the impossible standards we hold ourselves to,” she said. The song, both empowering and melancholic, came alive with her expanded band. Her phrasing—half jazz, half classical—gave it an almost cinematic dimension.
“Tough Luck” brought energy back into the room. Laufey’s jazz-pop instincts shone here, and she even took a brief scatting solo, prompting wild cheers. She laughed afterward, slightly embarrassed. “Okay, maybe I’ve been watching too much Ella,” she joked.
“Snow White” was ethereal and haunting, underscored by slow, sweeping strings. It felt like a lullaby for lost innocence. Then came “From the Start,” the moment everyone had been waiting for. The crowd’s roar drowned out her opening line, and she grinned wide before inviting everyone to sing along. It was pure joy—thousands of voices harmonizing on the refrain, “Don’t you notice me?”—a moment of collective catharsis.
The main set closed with “Sabotage,” a dynamic and emotionally charged finale. Laufey poured everything she had into it—her voice rising, trembling, and finally breaking into a whisper as the lights dimmed to a single spotlight. When the final chord rang out, she stood still for several seconds before bowing deeply. The arena exploded into applause.
Encore – Letters and Goodbyes
The encore began with a surprise—“Dear Soulmate,” a song not on the printed setlist. Laufey prefaced it by saying softly, “This one is for those who still believe they haven’t met their person yet. Maybe they’re out there, listening to the same song right now.” It was a breathtaking moment—minimalist, sincere, and deeply affecting.
She closed the night with “Letter to My 13 Year Old Self,” one of her most heartfelt compositions. Sitting once again at the piano, she played it slowly, each note deliberate and tender. Her voice quivered as she sang about the insecurities of growing up, the loneliness of adolescence, and the eventual peace that comes from self-acceptance. The performance was so intimate, so personal, that many in the audience were visibly wiping away tears.
As the final note faded, Laufey whispered, “Thank you, Nashville. You’ve made me feel right at home.” The standing ovation that followed was thunderous and long-lasting.
A Modern Classic in Real Time
Laufey’s Bridgestone Arena performance proved something remarkable: that intimacy isn’t lost in scale—it can be magnified. While her music is steeped in the language of jazz and classical nostalgia, her appeal is strikingly modern. She’s become the rare artist who can fill arenas without sacrificing subtlety.
The musicianship was impeccable, her voice flawless, and her emotional honesty palpable. Every act of the show told a story, each song flowing naturally into the next. Laufey made thousands feel like they were gathered in her living room, listening to secrets set to melody.
As fans streamed out of Bridgestone into the cool November air, the mood was hushed and reflective. People weren’t just talking about how beautiful she sounded—they were talking about how her songs made them feel. Laufey’s art doesn’t shout; it whispers. And on this night in Nashville, those whispers carried all the way to the rafters.
Grade: A+