Look, you can’t judge a Rosalía show by normal standards. This wasn’t a concert; it was a performance art dissertation set to bass drops. She spent ten minutes lying on the floor pretending to be a broken washing machine while the music swelled like a horror film. Did I enjoy it? I honestly don’t know. Did I feel something? Absolutely. I felt confused, thrilled, and like I needed a nap.
The finale was pure chaos: she burned a fake car on stage while confetti shaped like little knives fell from the ceiling. The smoke machine went so hard that a kid in the front row coughed and yelled, “I can’t see Mummy!” A true rockstar moment. She then bowed, said “gracias” in a tiny voice, and walked off like nothing happened.
The Verdict: A Triumph of Weirdness
If you want a safe, predictable night out, go see a cover band at a pub. But if you want to watch a woman in a custom Loewe suit scream about heartbreak while holographic horses dance around her, Rosalía is your artist. She proved that pop music can be a Trojan horse for high art—and she’ll smuggle it in with a dirty reggaeton beat. I left the O2 Arena feeling like I’d just eaten a full meal of pure, uncut creativity. And maybe a little gas from all the smoke.
So, next time Rosalía comes to town, do yourself a favor: go, but don’t expect to understand anything. Just let the weirdness wash over you. Bring earplugs, a sense of humor, and maybe a burrito. She’d approve.
