Qulture Magazine

Words: Niamh Leiper

It’s 11am in Glasgow, and I’m wearing chainmail at the bus station. I’ve been wearing it all morning at this point, but I take it off before going into Greggs because I don’t quite fancy explaining to the cashier that yes, it is chainmail and no, it’s not a DND thing and I’m actually going to see Chappell Roan tonight. It’s the kind of gig you dress up for, I figure. In Edinburgh, my educated guess pays off as I manage to find my way to the venue by following a stream of colourful tights and glittering cowboy hats. If it wasn’t for the stereotypical Scottish weather, it would be a proper baptism of fire – instead it’s a baptism of just rain; and I find myself joining the masses in my own tactically purchased cowboy hat. 

Looking more like an extra from Red Dead Redemption than I’d intended, I began to explore, and within an hour I’d combed the map from merch stand to merch stand. On my travels I got a full scope of the crowd’s costume-based creativity. Firefighters, showgirls, cowboys, half the medieval court, magicians and their rabbits – all in one place. All in a field, listening to a rotation of noughties hits like a page from a queer rendition of Where’s Wally? All waiting in anticipation.

We don’t wait long. I’m barely half a pint in before the first of the support acts take to the stage: a trifecta of Scottish drag queens each with their own way of making the space completely theirs. Between the impressive choreography of Blaze (@blazethaqueen), the sheer flair of Eve Devine (@the.eve.devine), and the heartfelt -and beautifully sweary- words of Shego Sinner (@shegosinner), the atmosphere is immediately transformed into one of burgeoning queer joy. As the Beyoncé numbers roll on and the pints are sunk, the sun slowly but surely comes out.

I’m attempting to sunbathe in no-man’s-land, half a plate of cheesy chips at my side, when it’s time for the penultimate support. Who better to deliver the musical equivalent of pres than Jade Thirlwall? Her 45-minute set combines recent solo work with throwback hits from her Little Mix era, providing a powerful wave of nostalgia while simultaneously giving a voice to her artistic journey. The strong female narrative of her performance is inherently Chappell-esque, and the crowd stays dancing long after she’s left the stage, after the lights go down, until they come up again.

When the lights do come up again, the audience is met with a prop castle straight from a dark fairy-tale. The tour is called “Damsels and Other Dangerous Things”. Chappell herself, true to both the theme and her history of iconic looks, sports a medieval court jester’s costume – the original symbol of entertainment – and launches immediately into “Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl”.

While the costume is gradually stripped throughout the set, the sense of whimsy is never lost. How could it be when the woman on stage is serenading the crowd with a baby dragon puppet in her arms during “Coffee”? (A stand-out moment for me and anyone else who grew up watching The Dark Crystal). Despite the high fantasy of it all, Chappell’s performance manages to be heart wrenchingly real. She sings of heartbreak in her new single “The Subway”, resonating with commuters everywhere; she delivers a ragingly electric cover of Heart’s “Barracuda” that makes the audience scream; she even performs a rendition of her older song “Love Me Anyway” that makes me smile and tear up simultaneously.

And through it all, underpinning every song, is a sense of unapologetic queerness. As she sings the last of her set, she sings to a sea of pink and cowboy hats, and they echo back their familiarity. That’s where the real magic of the gig came from: the sense of community. Underneath the glitter and props and pyrotechnics were a bunch of beautiful, sweaty people singing together….The Pink Pony Club.