There’s a certain kind of scream that only happens right before Mimi Webb comes on stage, sharp, high-pitched, slightly panicked, like people genuinely think they might combust if they don’t hear the first note immediately. Rock City felt like it had been holding its breath all night, and the second those lights dropped, the place erupted.
But first: Grace Gachot.
Not many artists can keep a crowd that hyped this quiet, but Grace walked on in soft red lighting and managed to hush the entire room without even trying. There was no big entrance or flashy visuals, just her voice, and that floaty, romantic softness that somehow makes you feel exposed in a room full of strangers. Her song Flatlining, which had only dropped a few days earlier, already had fans raising their phone lights, without being told.
“I went into a studio session, I felt sick, overwhelmed, and ended up writing this. I love it so much. It’s about not being bad to the person who hates you.”
She was talking about Built To Be Bad, her duet with Canadian singer Alex Sampson, and it hit hard. You could see people around the venue do that little slow nod that means, yep, I’ve been there. Grace didn’t need to fill the space. She just sang. It worked.
Then Mimi came out and reset the entire atmosphere.
Red lights. Strobes. Crowd screaming like their lives depended on it. She started with Side Effects and the floor was actually moving. Like, bounce-level moving.
She’s got this way of flipping the mood on a dime, one second we’re in full send-it mode, and the next, it’s soft pink lighting and arms raised for Love Me For You. The crowd were so loud singing it back she could’ve taken a break and let them handle the whole thing. People making little love hearts in the air like they’d rehearsed it. Beautiful chaos.
Then we got her “rom-com moment”, her words, not mine, and everything went full main character. Purple lights, flirty vibe, the kind of track that makes you want to text someone you shouldn’t, or at least film yourself spinning in slow motion.
Then the stage went dark. Total blackout, the kind where you can feel the room holding its breath. A few people started screaming like they knew what was coming.
Mimi reappeared, mic front and centre, and the opening notes of You Don’t Look at Me the Same hit. The room changed completely. Arms started waving, the lights turned soft, and she barely sang half of it, the crowd did it for her. Word for word. It wasn’t loud like before; it was that kind of collective singalong that feels like a lump in your throat.
She let it hang for a second, just taking it in. Then she said:
“This next song is stamped in my timeline forever. I dropped it during COVID. It brought me through.”
That’s when Good Without started, and suddenly Rock City was glowing, a sea of phone torches, faces lit up, people smiling and crying at the same time. It was one of those moments that felt too big for the room.
But Mimi wasn’t done.
The lights flipped from soft white to deep red, and she launched into the final run, Red Flags, and House on Fire. And when it came? Absolute carnage. It’s one of those songs that people don’t just sing, they shout. Phones up. Girls hanging off their friends’ shoulders. Someone behind me nearly threw their back out trying to hit the chorus with their whole body. Crowd favourite for a reason.
Full chaos. The crowd went from emotional to unhinged in about three seconds. House on Fire got the loudest reaction of the night, phones back up, people screaming like it was therapy. Mimi was everywhere, jumping, laughing, throwing every last bit of energy into it.
The night ended with new track Mind reader(with Meghan Trainor), she was grinning ear to ear, hands on her knees, hair stuck to her face. Total carnage. The good kind.
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