Gig Review: Evanescence At The O2 London
At The O2, Amy Lee’s voice and a set spanning decades bring unexpected childhood memories rushing back.
Some bands feel nostalgic because you chose them yourself. Others are nostalgic because they were simply there while you were growing up. For me, Evanescence are definitely the latter. My dad has always been a massive fan, so their music has been floating around my life for as long as I can remember. I didn’t necessarily realise how much of it I had absorbed until tonight, when the opening piano notes of a song I hadn’t heard in probably 15 years suddenly came through the O2. I didn’t know the name. I couldn’t have told you when it came out. But somehow, my brain knew it instantly. It was ‘Call Me When You’re Sober’. And just like that, some completely random childhood memory I’d apparently stored away for 15 years came rushing back. I went home, Googled the song, and now it’s been on repeat ever since. Apparently that’s what seeing Evanescence live does to you.
But before the nostalgia kicks in, there is the small matter of the crowd. For the first time in my concert-going life, I was actually very happy I wasn’t standing. The O2 floor turned into one enormous mosh pit at various points, with people throwing themselves around with an enthusiasm I simply do not possess. I love a good concert, but being surrounded by men twice my size, shirtless, sweaty, drunk and enthusiastically pushing each other around is pretty much my idea of a nightmare. So, seats? Suddenly feeling very grateful.
The night starts with K.Flay, who brings a mix of indie, rock and grunge to a crowd that is slowly filling the arena. Her set is followed by Poppy, who is probably one of the more interesting choices for an Evanescence support slot, but somehow makes perfect sense once she’s on stage. ‘Have You Had Enough?’ and ‘The Cost of Giving Up’ immediately fill the room, while ‘V.A.N.’ finally gets the first proper mosh pits moving. By ‘New Way Out’, she’s fully settled into the arena, screaming her way through the final song with the confidence of someone who clearly belongs on a stage this size.
Then the lights go down, and Evanescence open with the title track from their new album Sanctuary, followed by ‘Tell Me When You’ve Had Enough’. The enormous screen behind the stage transforms into something resembling a gothic cathedral. It’s dramatic, dark and completely fitting. The production throughout the night is huge, with lightning, smoke, projections, swinging chains, pyro and enough lighting to probably have its own postcode, but somehow it never distracts from the band. Amy Lee is the real spectacle. There are very few voices you can recognise from a single note, and hers is one of them. More than 20 years into Evanescence’s career, she sounds incredible. She can go from completely delicate at the piano to throwing herself around the stage during ‘Going Under’, swinging her hair around like a weapon, without losing any of that instantly recognisable vocal power.
Despite Sanctuary being the reason we’re here, it’s the older songs that unlock something in the crowd. ‘Going Under’ gets a huge reaction, while ‘Bring Me to Life’ is, unsurprisingly, one of those moments where the entire arena seems to know exactly what to do. But for me, the most emotional moment comes with ‘My Immortal’. Thousands of phone flashlights fill the O2, turning the arena into this huge sea of tiny lights. It’s one of those things that sounds cheesy until you’re actually there. After hearing that song for so many years, seeing 20,000 people quietly holding their phones up while Amy sings it feels genuinely special.
The newer material gets its moments too, and it’s nice to see the crowd listening closely to songs from Sanctuary, even if the older tracks bring the biggest rush of recognition. ‘Fight Like a Girl’, with K.Flay joining Amy, brings a completely different energy, while ‘End of You’ becomes the night’s biggest spectacle. Amy is joined by K.Flay and Poppy, before Courtney LaPlante from Spiritbox suddenly appears on stage. The four women tear through the track together while the O2 erupts and practically every phone in the building goes into the air. It’s the kind of collaboration that could easily feel like a gimmick, but live it works.
And then there’s the fact that Evanescence have somehow managed to make an arena feel like a sanctuary in the first place. There’s something strangely comforting about watching a band whose music has existed for so much of your life still standing on a stage this huge and sounding completely at home there. The people around me might have discovered Evanescence in completely different decades and under completely different circumstances, but for two hours, everyone is singing the same songs. Amy herself sums it up best towards the end of the night, thanking the crowd and saying, ‘We’ve grown up together by now.’
I think that’s exactly what makes tonight hit differently. I didn’t realise I had grown up with Evanescence until those piano notes activated some completely forgotten part of my brain. Suddenly, I was eight, ten, twelve years old again, hearing that music somewhere in the background because my dad was playing it. And now, 15 years later, I’m going home with ‘Call Me When You’re Sober’ on repeat. Some nostalgia really does hit you when you least expect it.
Photography By: Adam Rossi