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Call it temperature-induced delirium, but when Dua Lipa kicks off her first stadium headline show the crowd is strangely mute. As slow-motion images of crashing waves appear on the screens, augmented by a sound bath-esque drone, the effect it has on the sweltering cauldron in north-west London is close to trance-like. When Lipa finally pops up, standing statuesque at the top of an infinity symbol-shaped stage and resplendent in a white crystal leotard, everyone quickly surrenders to the heat.
It’s a white-hot start, too. Despite relatively lacklustre sales of her third album, last year’s Radical Optimism, its second single, Training Season, whips up an early frenzy as 12 dancers spread themselves across the stage, a stomping Lipa inspecting them like a drill sergeant. By the time her house-y Calvin Harris collaboration, One Kiss, arrives, there’s a danger of peaking too soon.
The mood momentarily flatlines, however, when Lipa ventures off stage to talk to people in the front row. Giving off strong kids’ TV presenter vibes she asks each hysterical fan the same question – “What’s your name and are you having a nice time?” – before signing various copies of her album as 70,000 people check their phones.
Things are forgiven quickly with the help of an elegant These Walls, performed at the end of a jutting-out runway encircled by her band, before a rare outing is given to early single, the appropriately titled Hotter Than Hell. After she teases a special guest – a hero, a British legend, a “one of one” – confused faces greet Jay Kay from Jamiroquai as he glides onstage in a puce hat and matching strides. But as the pair rattle through Virtual Insanity the connection makes sense; Cosmic Girl and Canned Heat would have made excellent Lipa singles.
From there it’s a gallop through some of recent pop’s hardiest bangers – Electricity, Be the One, a delirious Physical complete with mock exercise video intro – all performed with Dua’s unique rasp and occasionally rigid but refreshingly old-school superstar steeliness.
By the encore, complete with a pummelling remix of New Rules that briefly crashes into the electronic duo Bicep’s breakbeat heater Glue, and Don’t Start Now’s glorious kiss-off, Lipa’s a sweaty mess like the rest of us. As confetti cannons, streamers and fireworks erupt, Lipa looks ready to plummet into those crashing waves herself.
