Music/Live Reviews

Who: Billie Eilish
Where: Rogers Arena, 800 Griffiths Way, Vancouver
When: Thur., March 23
Vibe: TikTok masterclass meets group therapy session
Highlight: A black-clad Eilish headbanging across the stage to her viral hit Happier Than Ever as lightning flashes at her feet and the crowd of thousands  screams every word

While in the Uber on my way to Billie Eilish’s concert in Vancouver, I have no idea what to expect. This is one of the first shows I’ve been to since the pandemic started two years ago and my first stadium show in at least four or five years. I’ve always favoured small venues, even before COVID made keeping things small a health imperative. I’ve never even been to this arena, and I wonder idly if I’ll be able to find the entrance.

Once I step out of the car, I realize that finding the entrance will be the least of my problems. A veritable ocean of teenage girls dressed in space buns and fishnets swarm around me as far as the eye can see, travelling in a pack the width of a city sidewalk. The much more intimidating problem, it seems, will be fighting my way to the entrance at all.

Luckily, by some miracle, my press tickets get me in through a side entrance with a lineup of only 20 people or so, and I emerge from the throng unscathed. I make my way to my seat halfway through the opening set, which, in this leg of the tour, is South L.A.’s smooth, silky rapper DUCKWRTH. Aside from his feature on the Into the Spiderverse soundtrack, I’ve never heard a ton of his music, but I immediately find myself swept up in his irresistible presence and bass-thumping beats. Hard-hitting, relentless bars shoot across the crowd like machine-gun fire as he slides across the stage in a dress shirt and tie — the floor audience doesn’t seem to be the moshing type, but I find myself wishing I could see this set in front of a pit.

After an impressive (and, in my opinion, criminally under-appreciated) show, DUCKWRTH bids the audience goodbye and the arena descends into excited chatter. The seats all around me are starting to properly fill up, and I eavesdrop on the excited teens around me. They’re all only a couple years younger than I am, but I find myself fascinated by what this experience must be like for them — I realize after hearing a couple of their conversations that because of the pandemic, for many of these girls, this is the first concert they’ve ever seen. I remember what this moment was like for me, once (2013, Taylor Swift, age 12, for the curious), and it adds a moment of sentimentality to the anticipation.

I don’t know if it’s the first-concert jitters, the post-COVID excitement or just plain old pop-star fanaticism, but the audience is chomping at the bit to see Eilish like nothing I’ve ever seen before. When the lights finally dim, the sold-out stadium erupts into deafening cheers as a flash of the pop star’s silhouette lights up the room.

At the moment of maximum tension, the beat drops and Eilish bursts on stage like a ball shot from cannon, launching into the dark, eerie whisper of her hit track bury a friend. She’s tiny in real life, smaller than I expected her to be, but packed full of energy like a supernova. With spiky jet black hair and a black two-piece graffitied with punk patches and scrawls of death-metal text, she looks vaguely supernatural — like a dark pixie or the monster under your bed.

Her voice is incredible, which is no surprise, but her live vocals almost outclass her recorded ones; she hits every note even while sprinting and leaping around the stage like an Olympic athlete. On her slower tracks, it almost seems surreal that such a mature, soulful voice is emanating from the tiny teenager before me.

She converses with the audience regularly, frequently reminding us to have fun and respect each other. It’s cute and provides an almost jarring comparison to the Satan-and-strobe-lights vibe she embodies once the music starts up again.

Her brother and creative partner, FINNEAS, is on stage with her at all times, backing her up with multi-instrumentalist talent. Halfway through the show, though, he joins her up front, near the audience — they sit on humble wooden chairs with acoustic guitars and start chatting with each other like the siblings they are. It feels remarkably intimate for a set performed in front of 18,000 people. When they launch into a couple acoustic tracks, including Your Power, a mournful rumination on abuse, the crowd is uncharacteristically silent. When she finishes the track, she reminds her young audience to never abuse their power or let their power be abused: “Protect young girls. Protect yourself,” she declares to thunderous applause.

As she lets out the opening notes of Growing Older, a soft, deeply personal song about the trauma of growing up in the spotlight, a montage of pictures and videos from her childhood light up the stadium screens behind her. It’s a shatteringly emotional moment that genuinely takes my breath away. There’s a point where she turns her back to the audience and seems to speak directly to a video of her younger self: “Things I once enjoyed / Just keep me employed now,” she sings, staring at a younger, more innocent version of herself in the face. “Things I’m longing for / Someday I’ll be bored of.” Even though standing on stage at the Rogers Arena is perhaps one of the least private moments a person can experience, it feels like we’re witnessing something deeply personal — and although we obviously have little in common, my heart aches for her.

The soft, intimate moments don’t last for long, though — she makes sure to keep the energy up as the night draws to a close. The audience goes crazy for her rendition of Bad Guy, the devil-may-care fuck-you anthem that’s perhaps her biggest hit. But that energy is only a teaser for her showstopper finale. When the opening chords for Happier Than Ever ring across the arena, it’s clear that this is the moment everyone here has been waiting for.

She begins crooning the song’s tranquil, vintage-inspired opening verse on a heaven-lit stage, candy-coloured clouds illuminated on screen behind her. As the song approaches its climax and the gentle, hand-plucked guitar transitions into hard-hitting electric power chords, the atmosphere around her darkens; the sunset skies turn to thunderous storm clouds. By the time she reaches the main chorus, she’s screaming and lightning crackles at her feet like an otherworldly being as she throws herself across the floor. The crowd has been waiting for the whole concert to cry out the song’s most iconic line — “You made me hate this city” — and when they do, I’m certain you must have been able to hear it from a block away.

To the women in the audience, this song, and perhaps this whole night, is like group therapy. Despite her age, Eilish clearly deserves every bit of the phenomenal star power she possesses — and I know for certain that the girls experiencing this as their first concert ever have just witnessed a show they’ll never forget.