In the Blue Light @ Ultrasound

My journey to Ultrasound began on a Friday in September—my birthday, and a very special one at that. All week, the tour had been on my mind; I told anyone who would listen how badly I wanted to go. The morning of my birthday, I looked up tickets out of curiosity and—lo and behold, the price was right. Happy birthday to me. :)

The flight was less than a month away. The show would fall on the night of a new moon—October 21st in Portland, Oregon. The days dragged and flew by all at the same time. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, desperate for the clarity and healing I just knew this show would give me.

Naturally, I went out the night before my flight and came home at 2 A.M. to an unpacked bag and a natural disaster of a room. My Lyft driver got lost at the airport, turned into the parking garage by mistake, and drove into incoming traffic trying to exit. When he refused to pay the $4 to leave the garage, I decided it was time for me to walk. Should’ve asked for a ride. 

Virgin blasted through my wired earphones. The excitement was finally hitting me. I couldn’t believe it. Not too long ago, this was just a dream and now I was on a plane on my way to make it a reality.

The day of the show.

5 P.M., two hours before. Time to start getting ready. I take an edible that hits me faster than anticipated and now my makeup is taking ages. I’m in slow motion. My heart is

racing. There’s magic in the air already. Lorde is in the same city as me—soon I’ll be in the same building as her. Call it what you want, her music has been the soundtrack of my youth. Her lyrics make me feel seen—alive, broken and healed—frozen in time yet connected with my past, present and future selves. I’m surprised by just how starstruck I feel and it reminds me how important it was to do this for myself. 

Our Uber driver picks us up in a minivan playing country music and it’s so wrong it’s perfect. I’m trying to act normal but I’m still freaking out, hyperventilating in my mind. We get there with enough time to eat burgers and pick out my purple “Ribs” tee. Names drift through my mind—people I wished were there, people I wished I could text. I wondered, “Why do we run to the ones we do?” The realization that I will soon be hearing those words live snaps me back to reality. Just a few minutes to showtime now, it’s time to find our seats. 

We walked into the arena and down to the floor—row 3, seats 33 and 34. The synchronicity makes me smile. Empress Of starts us off for the night, her name illuminating the stage in a warm honey glow like it was golden hour. As the optimistic first notes of “Note To Self” rise into the air, Empress Of takes the stage. Magnetically commanding our attention, moving with an enviable sense of freedom drawing us into her world of whimsy, emotional honesty, and femininity. Her sandy blonde curls danced around the stage, her halo, sprinkling a little magic with every hair toss. Her vocals soared, hitting my ears like a healing balm. She left a truly enchanting first impression on me and gained a new fan. 

Once Empress Of’s set was over, we had a small intermission. We took advantage of the convenience of having seats and went and got a snack. Up next—The Japanese House.

Where does one even begin to describe the experience that is The Japanese House? From the darkness I’m hit with a heavenly cacophony, chaos and somehow still harmony. Angelic white lights illuminate the stage in a hazy glow as each band member marches into place with warm smiles and waves. Disharmony crescendos into harmony as they play the first chords to their hit song “Touching Yourself”. 

A peaceful backdrop of idyllic white clouds contrasted by an ethereal blue sky fades into view and suddenly I’m floating. The angelic white lights give way to splashes of royal purple and yellow. Every moving piece hitting their marks, flowing like a dream, seamlessly adding to the spellbinding effect of their songs. 

Soon, for the third time, the stage is empty and the arena is buzzing with anticipation. Two incredible performers have come and gone meaning all that’s left is Lorde— the main event. I sat there excited and a little overwhelmed, knowing something precious but fleeting was soon to come. I try my best to prepare, trying to decide the best combination of recording and living in the moment to take in every cherished second in the best way possible. 

Suddenly the arena goes from hazy blue to pitch black. It’s like we all take a collective breath in, already in awe of what’s to come. A singular laser points straight down to the stage, the only light in the room as the haunting, commanding opening synths of “Hammer” echo over the sound of thousands of screaming fans. The laser flashes to the beat and the intro drags on just a touch longer than the recorded version, building anticipation. The steady screams explode into a roar as Lorde ascends from below in the spotlight of that singular, striking laser. 

Casually cool in her white tee and jeans posed like the rock star she is—legs shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, looking down at her left hand on her knee, holding her microphone-clad right hand in the air. Before I know it, her voice fills the air— rich, raw, inviting, the opening track to Virgin the perfect introduction for what was to come. 

The visuals of Ultrasound are unlike anything I’ve seen before—electric, metallic, eclectic, commanding. There’s so much to take in, so many symbols and elements I wish I could ask her about. The set list is pure perfection— a complete tour through an album that means everything to me, bringing in just the right touches of the past with songs from previous albums masterfully woven in. The backdrop featured live recordings of what was happening on stage offering a more detailed look. The videography was striking and artistic, a meaningful addition and not just an afterthought.

The third song, “Broken Glass”, was the first of many favorites for me. The larger-than-life fullscreen video display behind her captured the essence of the song. She pulls up her shirt and grabs her tummy as she sings “Felt great to strip/new waist to hip/I hate to admit/ just how much I paid for it”. The camera masterfully focuses on different elements of the performance from unique angles with punchy transitions making for a visually striking experience. Lorde sings into a large industrial fan for the intro to “Buzzcut Season”. A camera from inside the fan captures her from an angle the audience can’t see and displays it in a small rectangle at the top left of the background screen. The vibe of the visuals is atmospheric and dark contrasting with the flashing lights and images of the previous song. Every detail is clearly put together with careful thought and intention.

Following the intimate and raw performance of “Current Affairs”, we find Lorde comfortably laid out on a raised platform. A particularly dreamy and nostalgic version of the intro for “Supercut” plays in the background and I immediately get chills as she so endearingly confesses, “Portland, I have to tell you something… My whole life I’ve been the kind of person who gets stuck inside a memory. I let it play and play, and I can’t make it stop. I wonder sometimes if I like it that way, you know?” She smoothly transitions into the song and the beauty of the moment brings me to tears to this day. As the song climaxes into the refrain, she jumps onto a treadmill in the middle of the stage assuredly strutting to the beat. The video screen captured her from directly above with another angle closing in on her expressions. Her strut explodes into a jog in time with the beat and I feel the aching nostalgia from head to toe. I feel like I’m glowing, fluorescent as she belts, “...we were wild and fluorescent come home to my heart!”

Time flies by, she performs favorite after favorite and I’m anxious knowing each song brings us closer to the end of this extraordinary night. After the surge of “Green Light,” the frenzy subsides, giving way to the tender, reflective conclusion of the show. Lorde comes out in an illuminated jacket, the simplicity of the set up around her bringing this into focus. Standing in a softly lit cloud of fog she sings the intro to the unrestrained and vulnerable closing track of Virgin. She walks off the stage into the crowd reaching a new level of intimacy with her fans. Lorde’s appreciation for the sacred bond between artist and fan is apparent, thoughtfully woven into every small detail, a love letter to those like me who wouldn’t be the same without her art.

She makes her way toward the far side of the arena, closer and closer to me. I’m not sure what is happening then all of a sudden I’m surrounded by screaming fans jumping from their assigned spots running towards a small stage just a few feet away. Before I know it, I’m running too and Lorde is now just 10 feet away from me. Knowing the most highly anticipated song of the night is yet to come, I’m overwhelmed by the electric rarity of the moment.

She sings one song not on the setlist, a little bonus. Then the arena fades to black and the transcendent intro chords to “Ribs” are buzzing, filling the arena with the sentimental ache only Lorde can convey. Just as we began, we close with a single striking laser cutting through the room pointing towards the star. With her hood on her head, Lorde brings the energy as she has for the past hour and a half. She says, “This is the oldest and most precious song we have…So let’s end it out real good, okay?” The laser spreads creating two lines with an illuminated swirling fog in between; she raises her hand to touch the lights and they flash to the beat. Every single one of us is united in that moment, united by shared experiences and emotions only this song can capture and the magic of it all. She jumps around the stage as we all scream her poetry back to her, tears streaming down our cheeks, uncontainable warm smiles across our faces. 

The song comes to a close and a look of satisfaction and pure gratitude comes across her face. “...thank you and good night!” The lights in the arena come back on and she takes a moment to take in our love humbly nodding in appreciation, bowing and holding her hands to her heart. She waves to either side and walks down the stage, leaving us all with a lasting impression. 

As we spilled out of the arena and onto the streets of downtown Portland, I’m hit with the icy October air and the realization that it is really over. I look at the pieces of confetti I quickly collected on my way out. I see the double helix with the words ‘You’ and ‘Me’ at either end; on the other side, ‘Us’. In the city lights, the crowd looks different now—individuals again, each carrying their own reasons for why this night mattered. I think about how much we all would have missed out on if Lorde kept her poems in her journals rather than bravely present them to the world as she has. 

I tuck the confetti safely into my jacket pocket. We go our separate ways—mostly still strangers—holding onto our little mementos, our sacred reminders of the power of art, connection, and vulnerability.