Gracie Abrams – Spark Arena: April 29, 2025 (13th Floor Concert Review)
Dubbed by many as the heir to Taylor Swift’s storytelling throne, Gracie Abrams lit up a rain-soaked Auckland night with a sold-out show at Spark Arena that proved one thing: sometimes, all you need for an unforgettable evening is a microphone, masterful songwriting, and great lighting.
Despite the weather, fans—adorned in hair bows, white dresses, and shimmering glitter—filled the arena with excitement and devotion. It was Gracie’s first time performing in Aotearoa, and she made her mark, showing just how deeply her lyrics resonate with New Zealanders.
Ashe
The night began with a kaleidoscope of rainbow strobes and an electrified crowd as Ashe stepped onto the stage barefoot, channeling the ethereal energy of Aurora, the fiery soul of Florence Welch, and the retro heartbeat of ABBA. From the moment she launched after the last intermission song – Dancing Queen, Ashe owned the stage with the grace of a headliner. Her set was a genre-blending whirlwind—rock anthems that had her hitting an 8-second note on her knees, interwoven with delicate, reflective ballads.
Even when she joked about getting her groove on, Ashe didn’t need to move much—her emotional rawness and powerhouse vocals did the heavy lifting. With the elegance of Paloma Faith and the vulnerability of a true storyteller, she delivered one of the most memorable opening performances I’ve seen.
A standout moment came when she covered You’re On Your Own, Kid—sending the crowd into ecstatic chaos—before gliding into Till Forever Falls Apart, her hit with FINNEAS. She closed with Moral of the Story, punctuated by a heartfelt message to her younger self—wishing that they were here to see this. It was personal. Impactful. Electric.
Then, it was time.
Gracie Abrams
Gracie Abrams emerged like a lyric come to life, shimmering in a mirrored dress and stepping out from behind the stage to the loudest cheers of the night. Her set opened like a dream—visually stunning and sonically pristine. The stage design featured two tiers, with her band housed below like an orchestra in a glass box. Sparkling curtain strips swayed behind her, while projected visuals, dreamy mist, and meticulous lighting brought each moment to life. If her father—yes, that J.J. Abrams—had a hand in the production, it wouldn’t be surprising. It was one of the best-lit shows I’ve ever witnessed, with every song receiving its own lighting palette and atmosphere. Nothing ever looked the same twice.
The crowd? Deafening. Fans screamed every word like they’d lived every lyric—heartbreak, unrequited love, fierce devotion. At times, Gracie had to sing over her own choir. But credit to the sound team: the mix was immaculate. Every whisper, guitar strum, and shift in her vocals was crisp and distinct.
During Mess It Up, Gracie flipped through a fan’s scrapbook mid-song, visibly moved. Later, she knelt like a tormented poet during a searing guitar solo, soaking it all in. She made space for everyone—thanking her band, the crew, the security team, even pausing to call help for a struggling fan in the crowd. Her sincerity was palpable. She constantly reminded us that her fans are her inspiration and her love. Throughout the night, she took gifts, phones, and Polaroids—always interacting, always present. The love between Gracie and her fans felt more like mutual reverence than admiration. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
In the final act, she ran into the center of the floor—transformed into her childhood bedroom, complete with a bed, lamps, a desk, and old-school handycams. She told stories about recording her latest album in that very room and reflected on her week in New Zealand. At one point, she proudly said she’d learned a new Kiwi slang phrase: kicking it in the dick. The crowd went silent. That’s… not a thing we say. Realizing the mix-up, she burst into laughter, which only deepened the crowd’s affection for her. It was awkward. It was funny. And it was real.
Sitting in her makeshift bedroom, she covered Liability, saying she wished she’d written it herself—a beautiful nod to fellow emotional architect of pop, Lorde. Soon after, she performed I Miss You, I’m Sorry and shared, I wrote this when my boyfriend broke up with me—I need a hug, before stepping down to embrace fans at the barricade. Sure, she probably does this every night, but it didn’t matter. It felt genuine in the moment. That’s Gracie’s magic—she makes vulnerability not just a lyrical theme, but the heart of her performance.
For the encore, the crowd erupted into chants of Gracie! Gracie! She returned with That’s So True and finally Close to You—the cathartic moment everyone had been waiting for.
Gracie Abrams didn’t just put on a show. She invited Auckland into her world, and none of us wanted to leave.
Azrie Aziz
Photos courtesy: Abby Waisler
