You would think that someone in the middle of an arena tour with pop giants Florence + The Machine might fancy a night off. Take a breather…recharge for the rest of the tour.
Not so Paris Paloma. On her “night off” the London based singer-songwriter has scheduled a one-off headline show in York’s Barbican. And, maybe this is Paloma’s way of re-charging.
Wednesday’s Instagram Q&A showed what a community the singer has created around herself. Positive, supportive “Fairies” had their question answered by Paris. from those searching for a set-list heads up to pointers on the dress code. In case you’re wondering, the answer to the latter is “whimsy.” And, the fairies obliged, turning out in their floaty finery, summoned by the promise of shadowed folk and baroque pop.
Paloma cuts an assured figure on stage, Someone who has found their voice, their place and created a space where her fans can cultivate their own. In a dress that would aptly grace the Yorkshire moors in a Wuthering Heights way, she floats forward gracefully on the wave of screams and cheers from the assembled faithful. Midway through the opening song though, intimate becomes insurgent, exploding into life as Paloma spins around embodying the emotion in the lyrics. Hair blown by fans adds to the drama, the theatre that’s in her blood, delivering one beautiful social comment after another.
The set started with the powerful inversion of the hunter-prey dynamic in Hunter, a song which inspired a cacophony of fan-powered versions. Good Boy skewers misogyny in a challenge to toxic masculinity. The tone changes, and softens, although still with powerful lyricism. As Good A Reason celebrates the communities women build up around them – and that’s not just evident in the lyrics, but on the floor of the Barbican as friendships are nurtured or ignited for the first time.
A couple of real highlights come late in the set. The beautiful Bones On The Beach is introduced with Paloma sincerely imploring us to find ways to know we can enjoy life again. She shares her joy with the crowd before moving into the unreleased Miyazaki, a tribute to the film-maker’s artistry which she says is the “only vehicle of understanding the horrible things and the beautiful things”.
Speaking of beautiful things, there is little better on this night than Paloma leaping the barrier and joining the crowd for a rendition of labour in the “fairy moss pit”. A song that resonated strongly on social media, it gains even more power in the collective performance. Even more, the “fairy dance” after the show is graced by Paloma’s presence again.
It’s been a special “fairy interlude”, punctuating a huge arena tour. Intimate, empowering and defiantly communal, the night feels less like a concert and more like a gathering: a space where rage is validated, softness is protected and joy is treated as an act of resistance.
At the Barbican, Paris Paloma doesn’t just perform her songs; she builds a world around them. One stitched together by shared glances, shouted lyrics and the quiet understanding that everyone in the room has carried something heavy to get there. For a few hours, that weight feels lighter.
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