Olivia Rodrigo at Co-op Live: All-American superstar offers preposterously unflagging euphoria
Marrying the rigours of a pop spectacular to the snarl of a rock show, the freshly-minted Glastonbury headliner proves terrific company.
“Manchester, you guys!” Olivia Rodrigo hollers, microphone thrown skywards to the rafters, perched at the piano for debut single Drivers License. Her voice is strong, but with several-thousand others screaming their lungs out before her, these greetings almost fall on deaf ears. “We made it! Thank you for waiting!”
The California-born star’s return to the city has come the long way around. Set to visit the Co-op Live as part of its opening slate of shows last May, delays and complications to the venue’s grand reveal forced her to waylay her plans. Now, over a year later, she alights better late than never, and with some weightier expectations; freshly minted as a Glastonbury headliner with raves for her Pyramid Stage performance, the singer-songwriter has upped her own stakes to make her two-night stand more than just the hottest ticket in town.
Questions have lingered among die-hard fans - Rodrigo naturally skews Generation Z, but her appeal runs considerably broader than teenagers and chaperones - whether this rescheduled pair of dates might revert to the staging of the original Guts run rather than its Spilled extension, duly named for the deluxe edition of her sophomore album. Irrespective of answers, it is readily apparent she has sought to marry the rigours of a typical pop spectacular to the grounded snarl of a rock gig; twin modes she toggles between to disarming, dizzying effect and success.
Despite the relative paucity of her catalogue, it is impressive how deep her material resonates, gifted with extra bombast by her band. Split roughly into retro-caustic balladeer numbers and snarling dance-punk throwdowns, her show comes bolstered by an unflagging performer and audience bond; on Obsessed and Vampire, the 22-year-old works the full spectrum of sound and fury with as much delight as the crowd; elsewhere, it is all gloriously unfashionable solos and Muse-esque preposterousness as she swaggers through the riffage of Jealousy, Jealousy.
But then, such connection is unsurprising when her lyrical expressionism catches fire so often in a still-nascent career. On Bad Idea, Right?, Rodrigo toes from self-laceration to self-celebration with near-feral glee; Deja Vu finds universal messiness with communal strength built on her growing pains. By the time a bubblegum-smash encore of Good 4 U and Get Him Back! arrives, her megawatt smile could fuel a whole power station. “I love you!” she screams. Manchester clearly loves her too; the wait has been worth it.