1,472 PARIS PALOMA, Pixie McCann, Birmingham O2 Academy, Wednesday 11th November 2026

A school night trek up to Birmingham with the daughter of the house, this, to see one of their favourite artistes of late, namely Pre-Raphaelite pop pipistrel Paris Paloma (enough alliteration for ya?). A recent find for Jami, La Paloma, but swiftly making enough of an impression for them to want to catch PP “live” on this tour, celebrating the release of sophomore album “The Fatal Flaw”. Jami played me said album and, as far as “pop” goes, it’s pretty good; some dark and dramatic slow building orchestral swells leading into more widescreen crescendos, along with an apparent underpinning literary lyrical bent suggesting an artist of more substance than most of her ilk. So, open minded as ever (!), here we go…

A short college day meant an early getaway, so we hit the road at ¼ to 4. Despite some M5 holdups, the journey went as planned, a tea break at Frankley still getting us parked up in the Horsefair NCP behind the venue ½ hour before doors. Joined the already buoyant and anticipatory O2 priority queue, Jami happily making friends before doors, then we grabbed a good balcony front row viewing spot, house left near the stage. More chats with fellow punters took us up to the support at 8 pm; Not Susannah Joffe as expected (wrong tour ad!), but another fey flower child in Pixie McCann. Backed a 2-piece band, Pixie’s very innocuous wispy and pastoral dreampop opener ceded to a couple of other more discordant numbers, the vocalist over-relying on tape loops and jarring weird electronica to bolster her little girl lost vocals, albeit to the detriment of the rather smothered material. The final number, “Rotting”, was however easily the best, a haunting slow burn verse leading into a bright shimmering chorus, so there’s some talent there…

Got a drink for Jami in the interval, then rather carelessly knocked it over! So a frantic mop-up job ensued just before Paris Paloma’s entrance just after nine. A rear-stage spotlight and dog barking noises (!) then ceded to the strident, strong-armed drumbeat intro to opener “Stem The Flow”, delivered by a drummer placed so far back on the stage that he may as well have been in the car park! Hmm, plenty of stage space for cavorting, methinks… Paris took the stage, clad in billowing gossamer dress and ballet shoes, already spinning across all sides of the stage, the anticipated cavorting duly taking place as she combined her balletic Kate Bush-like movements with a sonorous, atonal Siouxsie/ Florence vocal for this brooding and operatic opener. A comparatively understated oldie “Drywall” followed, Paris donning a big acoustic guitar, and the excellent rhythmic dance of “Miyazaki” (a “Fatal Flaw” highlight for me) was introduced to massive cheers with, “I wrote it about artists and about how much I hate generative AI because it’s shit!” 

That pretty much set the tone for a performative and inclusive set; the material, largely based on the new album, delivered the dark, almost Goth-adjacent pop drama, with repetitive choral builds and strident crescendos aplenty, recalling for me late period Banshees or even Taylor Swift’s collaborations with The National’s Aaron Dessner. And not only was Paris a kinetic, whirling dervish of a performer, sashaying across the stage with flourish and grace, but also a very impassioned orator, energising her overwhelmingly young female/ AFAB massive with vehement diatribes against misogyny and the patriarchy, and for self-care and unconditionally loving who you are. This was no more evident than in the mid-set “Good Girl”, the centrepiece of the set (and album) and a fervid treatise on self-acceptance and fuck anyone else’s opinion, set to a hypnotic and building synth dance pulse. Other highlights included “Beautiful Birds”, a delicate, pastoral outlier showcasing another element to Paris’ oeuvre; an epic, windswept anti-patriarchy “Good Boy” (Farage getting a welcome roasting in the preamble!); and, following a speech on her crowd’s community and inclusiveness, the rhythmic pounding of a rousing Celtic jig-along “Fairy Dance”. A set-closing double of the stately, early Arcade Fire sweep of “I Cry In Front Of Paintings” and my overall highlight, the strobe-lit cascading dramatic drone of the literary “Camille Claudel” rounded off a fine set, Paris returning for the final impassioned verse rap of the empowering feminist agenda-setter “Labour”. 

Set over, but not the fun, as a PA run through of “Fairy Dance” prompted balcony jigs, Jami happily getting involved, before a merch trip downstairs and a chat with the sound guy who was sporting a Coach Party t-shirt! Easy out of the car park, before a lengthy and confusing exit from B’rum dumped us onto the M42 before an inky blast home, back by 12.30, Jami singing all the way home. Overall a fine performance from a talented artist with a real connection to her audience, I can see why her message resonates so much with my daughter. I suspect we may see Paris Paloma again in future, and actually I’m fine with that…!