Walking into the American Airlines Center on March 1st, 2024, there was a nervous, giddy energy in the air—the kind you only get when everyone in the building knows they’re about to see something special. Olivia Rodrigo’s GUTS World Tour had already been the talk of the year, but Dallas got a version of the show that felt raw, messy, beautiful, and personal all at once. I went in as a fan, left hoarse from singing, and by the end, I felt like I’d been part of a generational pop moment.
The Blast of an Opening
The show didn’t creep in slowly—it exploded. Olivia came out swinging with “bad idea right?” complete with an extended outro that let her and the band play it loose and wild. She stormed the stage in a blur of attitude, almost daring the crowd not to scream the lyrics back at her. We all did. The outro stretched on, fuzzed-out guitars and drums slamming harder and harder, and it was the perfect way to set the tone: this wasn’t just a pop spectacle, it was going to be a rock show too.
She kept that chaotic energy alive with “ballad of a homeschooled girl.” The whole floor seemed to shake as fans jumped along, the chorus turning into a collective shout. It was unpolished in the best way—it sounded like the song was meant to live in an arena, not a studio.
By the time she launched into “vampire,” the mood shifted. The visuals went gothic, red lights poured over the crowd, and Olivia’s voice soared higher than on the record. Live, this one feels like a warning shot. Every belt, every scream—it was gut-punch stuff.
Piano and Confession
One of my favorite stretches of the night came early, when Olivia sat down at the piano for a couple of her most devastating tracks.
“traitor” came first, stretched out with an extended intro and outro. She took her time, letting the emotion build. It wasn’t just heartbreak—it was fury buried under restraint. Then came the inevitable: “drivers license.” You could feel the air shift. Even after hearing that song a million times, there was something spine-tingling about hearing it from her directly, seated at the piano, while tens of thousands of voices wrapped around her words.
She stayed at the piano for “teenage dream,” which hit even harder. She gave a spoken intro, reflecting on the fragility of youth, then played it with an extended outro that let her voice trail into silence. That one stuck with me long after the lights came up.
Pop Party Mode
Of course, Olivia wasn’t about to let us sink too far into our feelings without pulling us back out.
“pretty isn’t pretty” and “love is embarrassing” kicked the tempo up again. “Love is embarrassing” was a riot—it had an extended dance break outro that leaned into Tony Basil’s “Mickey” and turned the arena into a giant pep rally. Olivia danced across the stage like she was mocking the very idea of being embarrassed, and the crowd screamed it right back at her.
“making the bed” followed, but instead of dragging the energy down, she used it to connect. She introduced the band during the song, giving each member a moment. It felt communal, like she wanted us to know these people weren’t just backing players—they were part of her.
The Crescent Moon
The set’s centerpiece was the floating crescent moon. It descended from the rafters, glowing white, and Olivia climbed aboard to float across the arena. It was dreamy, theatrical, and yet still felt intimate.
She started with “logical,” performed with an extended intro. The imagery of her drifting on that moon while singing about love’s contradictions was almost too on the nose, but it worked. The song felt weightless, fragile, and beautiful.
And then came one of those once-in-a-lifetime concert moments: she spotted a fan holding a birthday sign, stopped mid-sequence, and sang “Happy Birthday to You.” From the crescent moon, in front of thousands, she made that one fan’s night unforgettable.
After that, she stayed on the moon for “enough for you” and “lacy.” Both were stripped-back, emotional gut-punches. “Lacy” had an extended intro, her voice trembling as she described that almost obsessive envy. The whole arena swayed along, lost in her world.
Stripped-Down Intimacy
Back on solid ground, Olivia picked up the guitar for an acoustic stretch.
“jealousy, jealousy” snapped things back into motion, playful and biting. Then she dropped into “happier” and “favorite crime,” both performed acoustically. These were two of the rawest, most vulnerable moments of the night. “Happier” in particular felt devastating—it was quiet, simple, and honest in a way that almost silenced the crowd.
The Home Stretch
With emotions still hanging in the air, she pivoted hard back into full-throttle energy.
“deja vu” came with an extended outro that turned the stage into a kaleidoscope of neon visuals and sound. Then “the grudge” bled into a long, haunting outro that made it feel like she was purging the hurt in real time.
And then the chaos came back. “brutal” with an extended intro had the whole place moshing in spirit, while “obsessed” stretched out into a snarling outro that felt like punk theater.
Finally, the closer of the main set: “all-american bitch.” She didn’t censor herself this time—she sang it with the original line, “perfect all-american tits,” and the crowd lost their minds. She gave it an extended intro and outro, screaming, laughing, and reveling in the chaos. It was the truest form of catharsis: messy, loud, unapologetic.
The Encore
Of course, she wasn’t done yet. The stage went dark, and then Olivia came storming back for the encore.
First was “good 4 u,” complete with an extended outro that had the crowd thrashing like it was a rock festival. Her voice held steady even as the entire arena turned into a sea of jumping bodies.
And then came the final blow: “get him back!” She started the first verse through a megaphone, her voice distorted and gleeful, before the band crashed in with an extended intro. The outro stretched on, Olivia shouting and dancing across the stage as confetti rained down. It was wild, it was chaotic, and it was the perfect closer.
Final Thoughts
When the lights finally came up, I felt like I’d been through something bigger than just a concert. Olivia Rodrigo’s Dallas stop wasn’t just her proving she could handle an arena—it was her showing she could dominate it. She balanced intimacy with chaos, pop sheen with punk attitude, heartbreak with humor.
The details mattered: the moon, the extended outros, the little moments like singing “Happy Birthday” to a fan. But what made it unforgettable was Olivia herself. Her voice never faltered, her energy never dipped, and her ability to connect—whether to 20,000 people at once or to a single fan with a sign—was unmatched.
Leaving the American Airlines Center, I couldn’t stop thinking about how far she’s come in such a short time. Olivia Rodrigo isn’t just writing hits; she’s crafting experiences, and this night in Dallas proved that her songs are built to last.