The only thing Suki Waterhouse knows better than her music is her audience.
“You’re at a Suki Waterhouse concert,” she joked at her San Francisco concert on Jan. 11, “of course you’re single.” (Her statement rings true, for the most part; it’s difficult to listen to songs like “Brutally” and “Melrose Meltdown” when you’re holding hands with someone.)
She spoke with a playful love, and as if she had instead blown a kiss, her self-aware crowd received it warmly. This mutual understanding between Waterhouse and her audience enhanced the concert experience, brightening the city’s rainy evening.
Waterhouse’s sold-out show at August Hall marked the second leg of her first ever headline tour, following her time as the opening act for Father John Misty last year. Her US “Coolest Place In the World” tour continues until mid-February, with support from her charming three-piece band: guitarist Jane., who also opened for Waterhouse; drummer Emilia Paige; and bassist Myqle.
Smoothly kicking the night off with “Bullshit on the Internet,” Waterhouse shot down online love and reading between the lines. Soon moving into the entrancing “Devil I Know” and “Moves” from her 2022 debut album I Can’t Let Go, she saturated the hall with sultry exuberance.
On the record’s cover, Waterhouse numbly stares into the distance, hands framing her face in a performative gesture. Her mascara appears to be running, but on second glance, the smudges beneath her dead eyes are symmetrical — they’re artistic and purposeful. Like her album cover, Waterhouse’s concert cradled the romanticization of sorrow.
Although she wore a broad smile, Waterhouse’s music exuded a starry-eyed, sapphire gloom. Experiencing her concert felt like drifting through the deep sea. As if in slow motion, her hands moved elegantly through the space above her head, and each solemn, elongated syllable she sang suffused August Hall. However, even as she waded through her most despairing tracks, Waterhouse couldn’t help but beam with delight.
Her beautifully sedate style of performance was interrupted only by the spectacular encore. Rather than standing solitary at her mic stand, Waterhouse pranced around her band, teasing her elated crowd as she edged nearer and nearer.
Although she wore a broad smile, Waterhouse’s music exuded a starry-eyed, sapphire gloom. Experiencing her concert felt like drifting through the deep sea. As if in slow motion, her hands moved elegantly through the space above her head, and each solemn, elongated syllable she sang suffused August Hall. However, even as she waded through her most despairing tracks, Waterhouse couldn’t help but beam with delight.
Her beautifully sedate style of performance was interrupted only by the spectacular encore. Rather than standing solitary at her mic stand, Waterhouse pranced around her band, teasing her elated crowd as she edged nearer and nearer.
During her glorious rendition of “Good Looking,” Waterhouse finally hopped off the stage, leaping onto the barricade to hold hands with her fans and take selfies. Soon returning to her mic stand, she belted the last chorus, heartfelt and profound. As the final burst of melodrama and passion melted into applause, it was strikingly evident that, in Waterhouse’s presence, August Hall was the coolest place in the world.
