To say that seeing Halsey live and in concert was a lifetime accomplishment for me would be putting it lightly. Halsey, a longtime role model for me and a star all on her own merit, is somebody I have looked up to since middle school. Listening to Badlands and blasting songs like “Young God” and “New Americana” through my earbuds on my iPhone 7 made me feel like I could take on the world. Halsey’s lyricism and untamed personality were a beacon to me during one of the most pivotal periods of my life. While not every decision I made was always well thought-out, I was inspired to pick for myself how I wanted the world to perceive me and how I wanted to perceive it. I highly believe that without Halsey’s impact, I would not be the same person I am today. Without ever meaning to, they became an integral influence in my becoming and the spark I needed to blossom into a young adult.
The day of the Halsey concert was nothing short of stressful. Unfortunately, she was not coming to Austin, so if I wanted to see her, I would have to travel back to my hometown of Fort Worth. Normally, this feat would be a bit tiresome, but not impossible. A three-to-four-hour drive is a small sacrifice to pay to witness the ethereal being that is Halsey. But that day, I not only had to wait until after my classes concluded to embark on the trip, but I also had to conduct an interview for a journalism class and bring along a friend as my traveling buddy. Typically, having a companion on the gruesome endeavor would be a pleasant change in pace, but not as much when you are short on time and must make several pit stops along the way.
After a drive that felt like days, I finally arrived back at my house, met with smiles and hugs from my family. Once greetings were exchanged, I ran upstairs to the barren outline of my old room and threw my stuff onto the floor before rifling through it, launching fishnets and Converse across the room. Once I was dressed in an outfit mirroring the earliest days of Halsey, accented with light shades of teal and blue, I rushed to the bathroom to finish the look. Pronouncing my face with blue eyeliner and bright lips, I was finally ready to see the person I had traveled all this way for. There was only one slight problem: the concert was in Dallas, which meant going through another grueling trip in the car.
My sister - my concert companion - and I jumped into her car. Even though the ride took too long and I was more than ready to be at the venue, I was overjoyed by her presence. We caught up on everything, filling one another in on all of the latest news and gossip circulating in our lives. Stories from class and our friends filtered through our mouths, silence never occupying the little space between us.
As we pulled up to the venue, South Side Ballroom, we saw other concertgoers traveling in packs, all dressed similarly to how I was, making me feel like I was finally somewhere where I belonged. A line of cars blocked the entire front street, causing parking to become my biggest anxiety. We looped around the building, following the crowd, hoping we were in the right spot since the employee we had asked before merely pointed in a vague direction. After waiting for so long of a time that keeping track would have caused me to spiral, I decided to make a parking spot instead of finding one. I parked in a field near some train tracks with several other cars shadowing my actions.
My sister, Ren, and I locked the car, hoping that when we returned, we wouldn’t be stranded with no car and a late-night problem to call our mom about. We joined the seemingly never-ending line that wound into the adjacent parking lot. As we kept walking to the back, we realized that any previous notion of having a front-row spot was a joke now. We’d be lucky to even fit inside. Surprisingly, the line moved rather quickly, the workers almost as restless as the fans, especially as the clock ticked closer to the concert’s start time. I was secretly beyond thankful for the hurry because the middle-aged man who kept talking to me about anime and my matching tattoo was beginning to creep me out. Ren and I were praying that he would not invite himself to join us inside.
Walking through those doors was like being transported to another dimension, one where time was merely a concept, not a rule the world abided by. Bobbed wigs and mesh tops of the 2010s prevailed; every person clearly matched the aesthetic Halsey personified during that iconic period. There are two stages located in the Southside Ballroom, and the one Halsey was owning (because that is the only accurate way to describe her onstage demeanor) was at the back of the venue.
Entering the space where the stage was, we were met with a literal sea of bodies, all clumped together, drunk, sweaty and more-than-ready for Halsey’s entrance. Even though it was at first not ideal, Ren and I found a spot on the left side, where we could still view the platform. We waited, my energy bouncing off the walls, my long-time fantasy becoming tangible. I had no clue whether or not Halsey had an opener. The tour had just begun, and there was little information online about its circumstances so far. Halsey was obviously popular enough to have a starting act, but there were no announced artists. After some time, my question was answered. Halsey did not have an opener and would start off their show the only way they knew how: loud and booming.
Before her debut, a video played over the screen, initiating its intended effect. (I guess I haven’t been to enough concerts recently because I had no idea how prominent video elements have become in live performances.) The crowd froze in their conversations, turning towards the screen above the middle platform, hollering and cheering, their arrival so near but yet still so far. After the short track played, the lights dimmed, and the heaven that had been hiding from us made her appearance. Halsey came onto the stage, blasting “Gasoline,” an anthem that has long resonated with listeners, who, like Halsey, deal with mental health issues and the overwhelming pressure to conform and push past self-destructive tendencies.
From there, they embarked on an adventure that encapsulated the struggles and highs of young adult life as an up-and-coming star, singing every track from Badlands while sprinkling in tidbits from their other albums. She included both distinct tracks that only the truest Halsey fans would recognize, such as “Dog Years” and “Ashley”, while still covering the favorites and most renowned tunes, including her song with The Chainsmokers, “Closer”, into the mix. However, along with these incorporations, as one would guess with Halsey, they spun the old hits in a new direction, often extending or shortening verses or changing the style to fit a more rock-based performance. Surprisingly, despite the discography from the show totaling thirty songs, also containing the four songs from the encore, Halsey never breached the doors of her album, hopeless fountain kingdom. This observation was both a shock to me and a disappointment because I love that piece, and some of my favorite songs from them are from that work.
Halsey was the epitome of a performer as she was able to traverse back into an older decade of herself while maintaining her evolving persona. At every stop so far on the tour, they have conquered the stage in vibrant outfits, sticking to one main color scheme at each concert. She continued this trend at her Dallas show, primarily dressed in shades of orange with tones of hot pink and red. From their wig to their platform boots, they were a spark of fire, igniting the attention of everyone in the room. She wore a corset-style top with the unlikely pairing of cargo pants, but of course, she looked beyond incredible. Even their makeup, which was from their personal brand, About Face, matched the ensemble, highlighting their sharp but always recognizable features. From afar, with the hues of blue lighting, her attire seemed almost pink, which was another factor adding to the mystique and trickery Halsey exemplifies.
Throughout the performance, Halsey’s admiration for their fans was nothing short of authentic. She called out words of praise and affection, complimenting how the love for Badlands had never diminished, only grown as more generations had become exposed to the music. In a moment of relatability, they asked the crowd, “How many of you were ten when the original Badlands tour happened?” Standing there, as a now nineteen-year-old, I shouted back in response, realizing how truly young I was when this transformative artwork was released to the masses. A few times throughout the show, whenever fans in their excitement would drink too much, Halsey would stop the music and beckon for security to lend a hand, offering “to come back there herself.” This event happened a total of three times, but Halsey never became angered or upset by the multiple medical issues interrupting their time. She only did what she needed to, yelling back to the audience to verify everybody was alright before resuming.
At the South Side Ballroom, the general admissions area, the only spaces in the venue, are divided into two sections. One is closer to the stage, and the other is above that and is separated by a railing. Despite Ren and me starting at the back of the second region, by the end, we were at the very front of the second layer. Fanbases are known for different things, depending on the artist they are supporting, but if I can say one thing about Halsey supporters is that there is a range of different ages and personalities, since they have been producing music since their twenties, but they are all kind as can be. Surrounding, my sister and I were gay couples, teachers, mothers, and fellow teenagers. A few women near us noticed that Ren couldn’t see very well due to her short height, so they let her stand in front of them, and another woman, who realized that we were siblings and wanted to stay near one another, let me as close as I could be to Ren. Through this process and the busyness of the concert, eventually, Ren and I had some of the best seats, well, standing room, in the house.
Like I mentioned previously, Halsey manifested the newfound usage of videography, having nostalgic images flash on the screens that partnered with the ongoing song. Clips of cars zooming through deserted landscapes and an overview of flying over a futuristic city still flash behind my eyes. Right before the encore ensued during the song “Lonely is the Muse,” all the onlookers put on a pair of pale pink 3D glasses, the trippy outline of a figure floating mirroring on the screen. Besides these applications, for transitions and breaks for the proclaimed singer, short tapes played overheard, their messages left up for individual interpretation.
For the final songs, which Halsey did not have a split interval from, she pulled out her guitar, retreating to the original works from her EP, Room 93, one of the first records I ever owned on vinyl. This performance demonstrated their talent as an entertainer, both in their vocals and musicality. As she finished the set with “Is There Somewhere,” a song about the complications of youthful romance, with the help of bodyguards, she climbed into the crowd, holding their hands before raising hers up into the air as the final notes echoed from her lips. They appeared to be floating overhead, their voice and story carrying us all to an atmosphere we never would have encountered without their guidance, reminiscence and showmanship.