There are pop tours that feel like victory laps – and then there are the ones that feel like reclamations. On the opening night of her Australian Tits Out Tour in Brisbane, Kesha’s return to the stage felt firmly like the latter: messy in places, minimal in production, emotionally raw – and undeniably hers.
The night began with Australian electro trio Blusher, whose brand of rave-ready, synth-soaked euphoric pop was an apt tonal warm-up for what was to come. Their set pulsed with energy, all neon rush and dancefloor build-ups, though at times the backing tracks overpowered whatever live vocals may have been there. There were even moments where the crowd noise embedded in the audio mix sounded suspiciously inflated, as if enthusiasm had been sweetened in post.
Still, when they launched into a cover of Addison Rae’s “Diet Pepsi,” the room visibly shifted. The crowd – polite up until then – became properly engaged. Beyond that, Blusher’s own tracks like “Racer,” “Whateverwhatever,” and “Accelerator” clearly had their devotees, but it was the cover that unified the room.
Then came the reason everyone was there.
Kesha opened with the inevitable: “TiK ToK.” Of course she did. But this wasn’t the same carefree, glitter-drenched party starter from 2009. The infamous P. Diddy lyric was omitted – replaced organically by a roar from the crowd: “Fuck P. Diddy.” It wasn’t rehearsed. It wasn’t prompted. It was reflex. A collective rewriting of history in real time.
Clutching what appeared to be a mannequin head in her own likeness, Kesha turned her most recognisable hit into something symbolic. The image felt deliberate – a shedding of skin, a rebirth, a reclamation of the voice that has defined her narrative over the past year following her long legal battle with producer Dr. Luke. She spoke candidly about being a free woman now, about the ability to re-record her earlier work – her own “Kesha’s Version” era, essentially – and about performing some of these songs for the first time in over a decade.
“What does freedom feel like? Tell us your story. The truth will set you free,” she said during one of the night’s rare but pointed interludes.
“So tonight – I will give you my truth. Tonight – I will give you my story. Tonight – I will not play a show for you. Tonight – I want to play a show with you.”
It was clear the theme of the evening wasn’t nostalgia. It was liberation.
The set unfolded almost like a greatest-hits celebration, moving briskly through her catalogue while making space for deeper cuts – including material from her vastly underrated and experimental 2023 record Gag Order (also known to some streamers as Eat the Acid). It was a reminder that beneath the glitter and irreverence has always been an artist willing to push at the edges of pop.
For fan favourite “Blow,” she writhed across the stage in black PVC, guitar in hand, the performance leaning into the song’s anarchic spirit. Many tracks were reworked into punchy mini-medleys: the controversial “Cannibal” slid unexpectedly into the softer “Delusional,” and the bass-heavy, zero-fuck energy of “Attention” paired with “Joyride” proved a one-two punch of defiance.
Introducing “Yippee-Ki-Yay,” she grinned, asking, “You want to hear a song I wrote about getting drunk with T-Pain?” The country-swagger track melted into her own Pitbull-less, updated take on “Timber,” a subtle but noticeable reclamation of that hit too. “Die Young” arrived as the faux finale – theatrically staged like a closer but delivered with a wink. No one believed she was done. And she wasn’t.
What followed was the emotional centre of the evening. The haunting “Cathedral” bled into “Praying,” and for a moment the party atmosphere stilled. Here, stripped of irony, Kesha’s vocal strength – often underrated in the shadow of her pop persona – took focus. Yes, there was a backing track. Yes, there were moments where the headset mic leaned into auto-correction. But she was singing. Fully. Committed. And the emotion cut through.
Production-wise, the show was slick but not seamless. You could occasionally see set pieces being constructed or dismantled in plain view, the machinery of the spectacle briefly exposed. But it didn’t matter. If anything, it reinforced the feeling that this wasn’t about illusion. It was about presence.
The Brisbane crowd reflected the breadth of her career: original “Animals” who’ve been there since “TiK ToK” first exploded in 2009, standing shoulder to shoulder with the largely queer audience that has embraced Kesha as a kindred spirit – an avatar of survival, flamboyance and unapologetic selfhood. She told us she loved each and every one of us for carrying her through her darkest moments more than they could ever know. She loved us “just as we are.”
It was the perfect lead-in to the true closer: “We R Who We R.”
Minimal production. Just over an hour in runtime. No bloated theatrics. And yet, it never felt slight. Instead, it felt intentional – a tight, celebratory sweep through a career that, for the first time in a long time, seems to belong fully to her again.
This wasn’t just a pop star revisiting old hits. It was an artist reclaiming them.
THREE AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Reviewer attended 19/02 at Riverstage in Brisbane. The tour continues across Australia throughout February. For remaining tickets, head to Destroy All Lines.
