On a misty Toronto night, Kylie Minogue — the enduring fairy princess of pop — reminded this city that maximalist pop concert fantasies don't always require the wildest spectacles to send audiences up into heaven. Her Toronto Tension tour stop was a soft-focus celebration of femme resilience, pop legacy and a particular sort of queer euphoria that only Minogue herself can summon.
Opening the evening was UK artist Romy, one-third of the xx, whose solo material is steeped in '90s queer club culture and shimmering, emotional electronics. On paper, it's a perfect addition. But while her set brimmed with potential, the cavernous Scotiabank Arena seemed to devour the intimacy of her sound. Angelic vocals and glittery melancholia floated through the air, but the energy didn't quite land.
Her hypnotic and heartfelt music feels designed for the intimacy of a foggy dance floor, not an arena. Her movements across the vast stage felt tentative, almost half-hearted — and in contrast to the drama of her beats, this disconnect left the performance feeling a bit lost. It's not that Romy wasn't brilliant; the setting just didn't allow her to thrive.
And then, Kylie.
Now five decades into a career spanning eras, genres and generations, Minogue stepped onto the stage with the confidence of someone with nothing left to prove. There was no frantic reinvention, aggressive shock tactics, or the desperation of unnecessary boundary-pushing. Instead, she delivered assurance, polish and an unshakable sense of self. Minogue is the rare pop icon who is endlessly adored yet comfortably at ease with her legendary status.
The show oscillated between slick nostalgia and some oddball missteps. While the pop star herself always remained magnetic, some production choices were, at best, eyebrow-raising. Background dancers morphed into inflatable gummy bear-esque creatures with spikes, having no clear narrative tie to the music or show — campy, yes, but perhaps more confusing than cute. These moments sometimes veered into Katy Perry circa 2015 territory without the wink or absurdist commitment needed to pull it off.
However, when the theatrics were stripped back — when Minogue stood in her power and let the music carry her adoring crowd — magic happened. Tracks from her recent Disco and Tension albums fused effortlessly with her iconic back catalogue. Her voice, never the most powerhouse of her pop contemporaries, remains distinct; charming, whispery, and more emotionally resonant than ever.
The night's most touching, strange and exciting moment was brief. An intimate exchange punctuated by the emotional breakdown of an overwhelmed fan became an unexpected high point. Minogue approached the fan and shared a few secret words. He likely requested a deep cut no one had anticipated. Happy to oblige, she sang her haunting verse from Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' "Where the Wild Roses Grow." Taken from Cave's 1995 concept album Murder Ballads, it was a beautiful, dark and unscripted moment that showcased her deep appreciation for her audience.
As the show neared its climax, the energy ramped back up. A "dark lady" moment introduced the final act, and then, boom: "Padam Padam." The viral, (recently turned) Platinum-certified queer anthem that marked Minogue's massive return to global charts exploded through the venue. It was a moment of total release, a shared scream across generations of 2SLGBTQIA+ fans who've always found home in her music. The crowd erupted, bathed in crimson light, dancing like their lives depended on it.
She closed the night with "Love at First Sight," a perfect choice. With its fairy-dusted optimism and Y2K futurism, it's a track that captures everything Minogue is: the intersection of fantasy and emotion, nostalgia and now. It's a song about believing in love again, even after everything we've been through — and isn't that radical in the nightmarish marsh in which we're all currently maneuvering?
Kylie Minogue doesn't need to shock us to keep our attention. She doesn't need to innovate wildly or rebrand herself with every release. She's not chasing virality — she is virality, a literal survivor, in the flesh. What she offers is something softer than her contemporaries, but no less powerful: a space where queer joy is eternal, where '90s pop is sacred, and where dancing is an act of resistance.
In an industry obsessed with what's next, Kylie reminds us that staying power, sincerity and sparkle will never go out of style.