British powerhouse Raye blows the doors off at Phoenix concert

A large red curtain hung in front of the stage, billowing in the wind as fans blew swirls of smoke around Arizona Financial Theatre. 

Suddenly, the lights dimmed. A rich voice began to bellow over the speakers. A dark cloud appeared above the stage, and the lights emulated a thunderstorm. The English-accented voice continued with “The Girl Under the Grey Cloud,” swapping a lyric about Paris for Phoenix. 

“A woman in her late twenties walks from a bar to her hotel / She has no umbrella, she is seven Negronis deep / And she nurses a hole she is desperately trying to fill …” the voice booms as lightning flashes and thunder cracks.

Then, from the side of the stage, British powerhouse singer Raye sauntered into the spotlight,  barefoot, wearing dark sunglasses and wrapped in a floor-length fur coat.

Wow, I thought, we’re in for a show.

Then, the curtains parted, revealing a stage jammed with instruments and equipment, 13 musicians, two full drum sets and two backup singers. In front of it all, Raye, who had now ditched her fur coat and glasses to reveal a tight, vintage-cut red satin dress, commanded the room.

Without further ado, she launched straight into the song that launched her into the stratosphere. 

“Baby, where the hell is my husband? / What is taking him so long / to find me?” Raye belted, her signature curled brunette bob bouncing as her energy immediately brought the seated audience to their feet. 

Starting the show with her biggest hit almost felt like a clearing of the slate. Now that she’d given the fans what they wanted, she could actually start the show. It was a narrative play spread out over four distinct acts that would take the crowd through a carefully orchestrated emotional roller coaster for the next two hours. 

There were moments of humor, darkness, inspiration, all-out party and most of all, hope.

High-energy entrance 

The sold-out Thursday night show was the first time Raye has played in Arizona, and came toward the end of her ongoing tour, titled This Tour May Contain New Music. The record-breaking BRIT Award winner’s global romp started in Poland in January, nearly two months before the album it supports was released. 

The artist’s second album, “This Music May Contain Hope,” was released on March 27 and is the musical embodiment of what Raye calls her “dramatic era.” 

As she battled through years of disagreement with her former record label, the singer dabbled in electronic dance music, rock, pop, rap and R&B. Her new album, released independently, blends Old Hollywood drama with the streets of South London. It’s melodramatic, conversational, theatrical and honest. 

After her mega-hit, Raye kept the energy up with Skin & Bones. In a call-and-response with the crowd, she laid out the lyrics.

“Just skin, and bones / And lungs, and a heart / Two eyes, and a liver / And a nose, and no brain.”

The song introduced a theme that carries through her new album. Dating men is a disastrous endeavor. Yet while the horrors persist, so does Raye.

Next, she flowed into “Beware… The South London Lover Boy.”

The song is a light-hearted warning that “Deep in the heart of the South London concrete jungle / There lives a strange creature.”

On stage, suddenly, two of the presumed stagehands appeared in baby pink ski masks. Raye, feigning surprise, pretended to run away as she dug into the chorus. Throughout the comical set, the pink-masked men popped up in different corners of the stage, earning laughs from the audience every time.

Jazz club blues

After the opening set, the stage was rearranged. Three bistro tables with red velvet tablecloths trimmed in gold and topped with small lamps took center stage. At their accompanying wooden chairs, three violinists sat down to play.

A door was rolled out, which “bouncers” opened and then held Raye’s microphone, as she theatrically stepped through the door into the “jazz club.” Throughout the shuffle, Raye chatted with the audience, cracking jokes and explaining what was happening the whole time.

The familiar notes of “Fly Me to the Moon” began and Raye sang a classic cover of the iconic song before digging back into her original music with the bubbly, jazz-pop song “Worth It.”

After the tables were cleared, Raye launched into one of the hits off her recent album, “Nightingale Lane.” The song is a power ballad about lifting oneself up after a lost love. 

“Somebody loved me once / And someday somebody will again / Like the way you loved me / On Nightingale Lane.” Raye sang the powerful chorus to an audience that hung on her every word. 

The song worked as a transition into a much more somber section of the show. 

A moment of impact

The lights dimmed, the stage cleared, and Raye told a difficult story. 

She carefully explained that she had experienced sexual assault, sparing details but digging into statistics. One in four people will experience sexual violence in their lives, the artist told the crowd, inviting us to visualize the statistic as a quarter of the packed theater. 

Then, playing at an upright piano, she sang “Ice Cream Man,” a harrowing song that she described as hard to sing, but like medicine through music. She stood to sing “I Know You’re Hurting,” and then redirected the heavy moment towards the theme of the show: hope. 

In her song “Lifeboat,” different voices, young and old, say the phrase, “I am not giving up yet.” Throughout the song, the tempo builds. The performance brought the energy of the theater back to the upbeat atmosphere at the beginning of the show. 

In a somewhat needed moment of comic relief, Raye announced that she was going to change, and she was replaced on stage by two tuxedo-clad men with cue cards. They intentionally fumbled the cards, holding them upside down and miming to one another, in a comedic bit that got a chuckle out of the audience.

Soon enough, Raye returned, now wearing a slick black leather dress and singing “Oscar Winning Tears,” with the backing of her band and a video of a full orchestra projected on the screen behind her. 

The song was followed by “Click Clack Symphony,” a catchy anthem that left the audience clapping along. 

“Let’s jump!”

Then, the most distinct set of the show began. Four massive, glowing letters descended from the rafters, spelling out RAYE above the stage. Slowly, the “Y” was lifted and replaced with a “V.” It was time to rave.

The artists told fans not to worry if they didn’t know the songs, so long as they promised to dance. The warm gold lighting and red tones were swapped out for blue and green lasers shooting across the room as the theater went from jazz club to Euro-style nightclub.

“Phoenix, I think we should jump, should we?” she asked. “Let’s jump!”

She danced through “You Don’t Know Me,” a song made with English DJ Jax Jones and “Prada” by Raye, Cassö and D Block Europe. 

Then, the lights came up and Raye got back to chatting. She told the crowd that she’s bad at lying, and announced that there would be an encore. Then she asked everyone to pretend with her as she introduced her “last” song.

In front of a screen of blue skies and bubbly clouds, she chanted the chorus “I declare there will be joy,” as her two younger sisters joined her on stage. 

Amma and Absolutely had opened the show, each performing a short set early in the night. 

At the end, they joined their superstar sister and each sang a verse of “Joy” as the band swayed and played in full force. The moment was indeed joyous, loud, happy and filled with energy. 

Then, the curtain closed. Not one person moved from their seat, as there was no question about whether the artist would return. 

When she did, she ended the show with a song that blends many of her genres. The edgy pop song “Escapism” switches between pockets of rap, interspersed by a chorus that shows off the range of Raye’s voice as she expertly navigates through the notes. 

After her last song, as if she couldn’t help herself, Raye talked to the audience just a little bit more. She shared thank yous, words of encouragement and inspiration and a promise that her mom told her throughout her childhood. Four words that left an impact: It’s all gonna be alright. 

Through her high-energy, high-impact show, Raye made us all believe that those words might just be true, if only for one night.