Alex Casey reviews the Something to Give Each Other tour as it touches down for its final stop in Aotearoa.
Even the foyer at a Troye Sivan show comes with the kind of organically-generated sparkle and spectacle that Coldplay probably hired a whole department for. Digital camera flashes bounced off sequinned disco ball suits, cheeky diamantes twinkled beneath mesh gloves and an iridescent rainbow tinsel curtain invited people to take handfuls of free condoms and lube. “Please take these home and DO NOT throw them on the floor or onstage,” the signs pleaded.
“Thank you :)”
Despite the polite smiles, it wasn’t long before those very same condoms were being inflated, tied off and batted through the crowd of girls and gays. Again, Coldplay wishes. As the lights flushed deep blue and a rumbling synth built towards the arrival of Australian’s biggest pop superstar of the moment, the teen girls behind me were extremely under the pump trying to get their overinflated condom balloon airborne. “It’s huge,” one shrieked. “I can’t do it, it’s so big!!”
We chuckled at what would soon prove to be the most coy innuendo of the night, as Troye Sivan took the stage for a pop extravaganza proudly soaked in sweat and sex in his very final performance of the Something To Give Each Other tour. “We’ve been on tour for eight fucking months, all around the world,” he bellowed in the middle of the opening electrifying dance hit ‘Got Me Started’, “and we are going to spend our last night with you guys – let’s fucking jump!”
Very simple choreo instructions for us, a much more complicated situation for Sivan’s troupe of sinewy dancers who were already dripping by the first song. With the stage flanked by enormous high definition screens, cameras captured every bead of sweat, rippling abdominal and cheeky wink to camera. Sivan spoke down the barrel in close-ups, harking back to his days as a bedroom YouTuber, and a great way of bringing intimacy to a massive dance extravaganza.
There was so much dancing to be done and so much euphoria to be felt as he followed up with some high octane yearning in ‘What’s the Time Where You Are’ and the explosive joy of ‘My My My’. I remembered watching an interview with Sivan on some late show where he talked about becoming “numb” during the pandemic, and worrying that he would never feel human connection in the same way ever again. How wrong was he! How wrong were all of us!
Even without an elaborate set, many beautiful images emerged over the night. When Sivan and his Michelangelo-level chiseled dancers draped themselves on a satin bed for ‘In My Room’, it truly looked like something from the Renaissance (“gay last supper”, I wrote on my Notes app). For ‘Rager Teenager!’ he got everyone to turn their phone torches on and look around which, although nothing new, delivers a slam dunk misty-eyed spectacle every bloody time.
Donning lengths of white chiffon for the heartbreak of ‘Can’t Go Back Baby’, Sivan channelled Cyd Charisse in Singing in the Rain, billowing away against aching soft lilacs and pinks. Before the show, some attendees had expressed concern that the Auckland crowd wouldn’t be able to bring enough energy for his very last night. Apparently we actually overdid it for Sivan at this point, screaming loudly through a heavy song about betrayal and breaking up.
“That’s supposed to be a depressing song, you guys are too fucking lit,” he said, smiling while still billowing away. “That’s fucking crazy.”
We had to prove ourselves not just in terms of energy, but also vocal prowess. Given that some of Sivan’s biggest hits are collaborations, the Auckland crowd stepped up to fill important roles in ‘Dance to This’ (as Ariana Grande), ‘Ease’ (as Broods), ‘1999’ (Charli XCX) and ‘Talk, Talk’ (Charlie XCX). Sivan said we “ate that” after ‘1999’. Tellingly, he made no comment after hearing our accent trying to seductively bellow “tork to me in French, tork to me in Spanish.”
Returning to the stage for the encore with a bejewelled crotch and chaps, Sivan issued one more challenge. “Auckland I’ve got the sparkly dick out for you – if I pop a nut don’t put it on TikTok you fucking snake.” Closing out with ‘Honey’ and ‘Rush’, the show went out with a bang and not a single nut where it shouldn’t be. “I feel so lucky to have you guys tonight, he said. “I was so worried it was going to be sad but it’s not fucking sad it’s so fucking happy.”
Everything was done by 10.10pm with Sivan onstage for just under 70 minutes. It was short, yes, but nobody I spoke to felt short-changed. How could you be by such a pitch-perfect pop show – meticulously put together, energy sky high, not a single moment or movement or cowboy hat wasted. He even threw in something for “The Blue Neighbourhood girlies” which the elders (millennials) in the crowd appreciated. Also appreciated by those 30+ was the chance to be home by 10.30 pm on a Monday.
But, as the house lights came up and we reluctantly dragged our heels back to the real world through the exit doors, ‘Talk, Talk’ with Charlie XCX, a song that we had all just seen performed live less than 30 minutes ago, started blaring through the speakers. Everyone in our area stopped for one last unashamed singalong and a boogie – Gen Z girls in “mother” T-shirts alongside Gen X men in tasteful linen shirts, none of us quite ready to head back into mundane old Monday just yet.
