Walking into the Chase Center that night, I felt something I hadn’t in a while—pure electricity. Olivia Rodrigo had already become a generational voice by the time she hit the stage, but being there, in that space, with the lights low and the formerly empty seats now full of anticipation—that moment reminded me why I chase concerts to begin with.
I wasn’t just excited—I was brimming with that raw mix of nerves, nostalgia, and joy, wondering how she would connect with a city steeped in musical history. From the opening beat of bad idea right? to the defiant roar of get him back! at the encore, it was a journey that left my voice raw, heart racing, and sense of self just a little bit more illuminated.
Setlist
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bad idea right?
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ballad of a homeschooled girl
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vampire
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traitor
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drivers license
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teenage dream
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pretty isn’t pretty
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love is embarrassing
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making the bed
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logical
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enough for you
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lacy
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so american
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jealousy, jealousy
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happier
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favorite crime
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deja vu
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the grudge
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brutal
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obsessed
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all-american bitch
Encore
22. good 4 u
23. get him back!
Act 1: The Opening Shockwave
When bad idea right? dropped, the arena shifted. It was like a jolt—I saw glow sticks swing, heads nod, bodies tense, waiting for the beat. Olivia rose on a half-moon platform in a silver jumpsuit, backed by a killer all-female band. The song landed like a lit match: immediate, electric, and deeply personal.
Next up was ballad of a homeschooled girl, and I felt the arena lean in collectively. There’s something nostalgic about that phrase—“Every guy I like is gay”—and hearing a chorus of thousands yell it back at her made it feel sacred. Then vampire followed, and her voice cut through powerfully, deeper and darker than I’ve ever heard it.
By traitor and drivers license, the place was unruly—in the best possible way. The former pulled everyone into her emotional gravity, the latter felt communal, healing, and undeniably powerful. I looked around at faces lit by stage lights singing along, and I realized: we all carry that ache.
Act 2: Introspection in Neon Lights
Olivia paused, and the lights softened. Teenage dream, her early cover, felt like a shared wink to fans who’ve grown up alongside her. Then came pretty isn’t pretty and love is embarrassing—both delivered with such vulnerability I felt a little exposed, too, in a beautiful way.
Making the bed followed, and the staging changed. She walked across the stage’s extended catwalk, spotlight on her alone, and suddenly that song felt like a secret conversation. It was intimate despite the scale.
Then everything upended: logical knocked my internal rhythm off course. The production whipped the crowd into a frenzy: smoke, pulses of strobe, and Olivia singing lines like “Too hot, you’re off the wall.” The techno-tinged beat made everyone move — no thinking, just feeling.
In that same high-energy vein came enough for you, raw confession meeting pop catharsis. And lacy—I’ll never forget that moment. She floated on a circular platform above the crowd; stage lights made her look otherworldly as she sang about jealousy and obsession. You could hear fans visibly gasping.
Act 3: Americana Meets Anger
Then came the quiet punch of so american — Americana nostalgia with razor-sharp edges, a subtle smack of irony that landed perfectly in a city known for its eclectic embrace of all things unclassifiable.
Jealousy, jealousy kicked off next, and the crowd disengaged from the rest of the arena—it was just us, vibrating. The lyric “Jealousy, jealousy, can’t you see?” was a chant, a plea, a rallying cry. I felt every eye locked on her, feeling seen, righteous, complicated.
The emotional field shifted again with happier—bittersweet, soft—but then favorite crime took over, and we were back to holding our breath. Its quiet betrayal-stained sadness echoed off the walls and into my chest in a way that made me feel whole.
Act 4: Finale’s Darkness and Defiance
When deja vu began, I sank into every layered harmony. The production glowed — pink lights mixing with dark shadows, dancers moving like memories. Next, the grudge soothed the mood into something darker, lingering, and let me exhale for a second before the final reckoning.
Brutal shattered that moment. Electronic guitar drones, her voice channeled teenage rage, self-loathing, desire all colliding. It was chaos. The crowd screamed. I couldn’t move. Then obsessed followed — glamorous, fierce, unapologetic. She spun upside-down from a suspended ring, playfully demanding our attention.
Closing that act was all-american bitch, a scathing, satire-laced anthem. Confetti shot up at its climax, and the crowd’s energy turned defiant, proud, and ready for more.
Encore: Riotous Closure
After a brief pause, she returned in sparkly attire to launch into good 4 u. Confetti bubbles, pink lasers, and the entire arena jumped in time. That bassline awakened everyone—it felt like reclaiming your body after confession. I lost my voice screaming “good 4 u.”
Finally, get him back! closed it all. She drove the chorus down every row, assisted by a blazing beat behind her. Light burst from the ceiling like fireworks. She ended perched atop a tower with a megaphone, the final notes hanging in the air, electricity charged and unbroken, as the lights went dark.
Why This Show Hit So Deep
This was more than a pop show. It was a manifesto of growth, heartbreak, rebellion, and healing wrapped into one. Olivia Rodrigo didn’t just perform her songs—she lived them onstage, and invited us into every ache, every rage, every triumph.
I walked out of the Chase Center transformed. Voice gone, legs tired, eyes wet, heart wide open. It wasn’t nostalgia — it was recognition. Her songs are our stories: messy, beautiful, unresolved, and deeply human.
The staging was impeccable, yes — the lighting, choreography, romantics of production all added texture. But what made it unforgettable was the truth. In an era of take-back-the-world energy, she’s leading that charge, unapologetically fragile and ferociously real.