Photo + Words: Tom Sunderland
Katy Perry has always occupied a singular space in pop: candy-coated, slightly chaotic, and disarmingly sincere. Fifteen years since ‘Teenage Dream‘, she arrives in Sheffield as both legacy act and conceptual artist, touring ‘143‘, a new album steeped in digital metaphor and late-stage pop existentialism. The show, part of her ‘Lifetimes Tour‘, is billed as a levelled-up experience: a fusion of video game aesthetics, narrative interludes, and post-pop introspection.
It’s been 7 years since her last show in South Yorkshire, but Perry comes back armed with spectacle, stamina, and a back catalogue that still lights up an arena.
The night opens with “ARTIFICIAL”. Clad in chrome and backed by a Tron-esque digital landscape, Perry announces her arrival not as the bubbly firework of old, but as a pop entity rebooted for the AI era. It’s high-concept and visually elaborate.
Thankfully, equilibrium is restored with the familiar opening bars of “Chained to the Rhythm” and “Teary Eyes” both delivered with confidence and clarity.
Indeed, the night’s middle stretch leans heavily on Perry’s imperial-phase hits: “California Gurls”, “Teenage Dream”, a fizzy medley of “Hot n Cold” and “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)”. These are the moments when the crowd lights up the arena with their phones and cheap light-up merchandise from around the corner in the air, lyrics shouted back with glee. Perry, now in her early 40s, delivers them with a mix of affection and irony. On “Peacock”, she jokes: “Who would even write that?”
Visually, the production is sumptuous. Giant LED panels, bespoke animations, and laser-sharp choreography bring the arena to life. There’s a distinct attempt to tie each song into a larger visual language—futuristic dystopia meets pop RPG. Occasionally, it works beautifully while at other times, the aesthetic overload becomes a bit of barrier.
The emotional centre of the show comes via “Nirvana”, “Crush”, and “I’m His, He’s Mine” – new tracks from “143” that find Perry stripping things back. She perches alone on a glowing platform, the digital glitz momentarily paused, and sings about connection, longing, and self-definition. These quieter moments, vulnerable and vocally exposed, feel like Perry recalibrating her image in real time.
There’s some tension in pacing, particularly around the “Choose Your Own Adventure” segment, a fan-voted slot. While charming in theory, it disrupts the show’s momentum and everyone’s sat in the dark twiddling their thumbs waiting for the QR code to load, in my case, it never did. It didn’t stop Katy from still engaging with the audience, playing Rock, Paper Scissors with a member of the crowd as well as bringing three well-dressed fans up on stage for “Unconditionally”.
It’s a stark contrast to the next track played as she unsheathes a dual bladed red lightsaber? What are we watching? Perry cosplays as Darth Maul and runs around the infinity shaped stage fighting off giant spiders. She then plays a powerful rendition of “Part of Me” which she ends on a high, pretending she’d just scored the winner in a cup final and slides on her knees in true Wayne Rooney fashion.
Another blackout later and we’re back into the final two segments of the show. Perry returns to the stage for “Roar” soaring around the arena on a giant butterfly? Why? We don’t know either. Confetti rains down as Katy brings the energy to South Yorkshire, closing the set on “Firework” which rounded up the two hour set very nicely.
If there’s a criticism to be made, it’s that “The Lifetimes Tour” sometimes suffers under the weight of its own ambition. The narrative interludes, meant to provide structure, often confuse more than clarify. The AI/digital identity theme, while timely, can feel half-baked, like set dressing for what is ultimately a greatest-hits show with upgraded graphics.
And yet, Perry’s charisma shines through. She’s not the strongest technical vocalist in pop, nor the most fluid dancer, but she connects. There’s something in her willingness to look a bit ridiculous, to break character and chat mid-song, that endears her to the crowd. It’s this emotional accessibility, more than the pyrotechnics or concept art, that carries the evening.
At a time when many of her contemporaries have either pivoted into nostalgia or disappeared from the spotlight, Perry is choosing a different route: futuristic, self aware, and oddly heartfelt. Not everything she attempts lands, but when it does, it reminds you why she became a global star in the first place: she knows how to make pop feel big, silly, and occasionally profound.
Taped Magazine 