RAYE This Tour May Contain New Music in New York City: 7 Best Moments

Yes, there were costume changes and set changes and an elaborate storyline and even choreography, but Raye could’ve cracked jokes for two hours and still would have lit the venue on fire. Radio City Music Hall certainly isn’t an arena or a stadium, so the production is a bit smaller-scale, and there’s less of a veil between the audience and backstage. To compensate, RAYE bantered with the audience (she even came across a fan celebrating their fifth show of hers), held up signs emblazoned with QR codes leading to streaming and purchase links for her album, and, in typical jazz club fashion, introduced almost every song with a sprawling backstory.

Someone tell Merriam-Webster to add a picture of RAYE under their definition of “charisma.”

While This Tour May Contain New Music boasted several practical set pieces like the floating storm cloud, “name in lights” sign and the tables and chairs that comprised the makeshift jazz club, Raye’s latest trek also took advantage of the venue’s massive screens.

Obviously, she isn’t touring with a full orchestra — that would be a Herculean effort even if she weren’t an independent artist — so she used the background screen to project images of a digital orchestra that bled into the real-life backing band during “Click Clack Symphony,” which earned a feverish response from the crowd. During “Winter Woman,” she balanced the drama of a single spotlight and Beyoncé-esque fans with a video montage of the song’s lyrics unfurling in time with the music through minimalist typography. And then, of course, the lighting design, courtesy of Dan Crowther and Guy Knox-Holmes, infused Radio City with rave energy near the end of the show, making for one of the night’s more subversive moments.

There may not be an album better equipped for live performances than This Music May Contain Hope, and music director Pete Clements absolutely rose to the occasion.

From the breezy “Fly Me to the Moon” arrangement during the jazz club section to the thrilling “Where Is My Husband” intro, which meticulously builds quasi-climaxes from the very first frum roll, the music direction of This Tour May Contain New Music features some of the most ambitious and eclectic arrangements to grace modern pop shows. It’s not exactly easy to retain the simultaneous earnestness and cheeky humor that grounds “Beware… The South London Lover Boy,” but they found a way. RAYE’s combines everything from big band jazz and rock to hip-hop and R&B, and she and Clements made sure to highlight each element through their arrangements.

There was a period in the ’90s and early ’00s when virtually every R&B artist would end their album with some kind of gospel song or dedication. RAYE leaned into that tradition with “Joy,” the penultimate track from This Music May Contain Hope, on which she joins forces with her sisters Amma and Absolutely.

From candid conversations about sexual violence and suicide to the impossibly heavy load of true heartbreak, RAYE traverses ample emotional ground throughout her show. But by closing with “Joy,” she ultimately surrenders to the belief that brighter days aren’t just ahead, they are promised to her despite the tears that streak her nights. Assisted by her entire backing band — two backup singers, two drummers, a keyboardist, a guitarist, a bassist and two well-rounded strings and brass sections — Raye’s closer didn’t just provide an emotional closer for the audience, it also smartly honored the throughline of gospel that grounds both her vocal performance and lyrical ethos.

Some of RAYE’s earliest commercial hits were as a featured artist on dance-pop songs. Although her solo albums have skewed more towards her jazz inclinations, she harnessed the specific healing power of dance music during the mini rave section.

Before RAYE launched into a glitchy medley of “Secrets,” “You Don’t Know Me,” “Black Mascara” and “Prada,” a giant sign spelling her name descended from the ceiling, with the letter “Y” eventually being replaced with the letter “V.” As the strobe lights completely transformed the venues proscenium arch into the headonistic heaven that is a proper rave, RAYE encouraged the crowd to let go of whatever baggage they carried with them into the show. From the trance-driven “Life Boat” to the half-time breakdown of “Prada” and subsequent double-time climax, RAYE ran the full gauntlet of dance music — a much-needed reprieve after she ripped everyone’s hearts open with the preceding ballad section.

“Escapism” is the song that truly cemented RAYE’s current status as a defining pop star for the indie era, so it’s no shocker that she held the global hit for her encore on Wednesday night. As predictable as that may have been, the decision still proved irresistible. After tearing through a truly mind-boggling headlining set, RAYE returned to the stage for a final time, wailing her way through a rock-infused rendition of “Escapism” that reverberated throughout the theater.

On Wednesday night, “Escapism” no longer sounded like a melancholy party anthem of survival and distraction. Instead, it landed as a celebration of a landmark moment for RAYE’s career, one that made it possible for her to mount such a strikingly singular show at one of the world’s most iconic performance venues.

Everyone is aware that RAYE knows her way around a good power ballad, but the one-two-three punch of “Nightingale Lane,” “Ice Cream Man” and “I Know You’re Hurting” was the single most devastating sequence of the night.

After delivering a heartfelt rendition of “Nightingale Lane,” which she preceded with some context around the real-life ex who inspired the track, RAYE got tearfully candid as she explained how difficult it was to sing the lyrics to “Ice Cream Man,” a harrowing, landmark single recounting her experiences of sexual violence at the hands of music industry gatekeepers. At times, her voice barely fluttered above a whisper, carefully dancing around the edges of a crack before delving into her chest voice to pull off the incredibly resonant belts that make up “I Know You’re Hurting.” Pristine vocals are simply a part of the deal with RAYE, yet it truly cannot be understated just how ambitious some of her choices were through this section — and she nailed every single one.

Though she also preceded “Hurting” with a speech acknowledging those who suffer from suicidal ideation, RAYE didn’t let the show get heavy for no reason; this was an artist who has walked the depths of emotional turmoil, letting those with similar struggles feel seen and heard for what could very well be the first time.