On July 18, Katy Perry turned San Francisco’s Chase Center into a kaleidoscope of nostalgia, camp and pop spectacle for her “Lifetimes” tour. For many of us in the crowd, the show wasn’t just a concert, but a celebration of girlhood, glitter and growth.
When Perry asked, “Who’s been with me since 2008?” I realized with a jolt that I had. I was a kid then — dancing in my living room to “Hot N Cold” on the original Just Dance, watching her “Part of Me” documentary on repeat and performing her songs at talent shows. That music raised me, and in some ways, this night felt like my inner child was healing in real time. College party playlists may have numbed some of that wonder by making her hits feel overplayed, but the moment I heard her sing them live (in full voice and spectacle), all of that magic came rushing back.
Before Perry took the stage, Rebecca Black opened the night with a set that felt intentionally provocative, unapologetically queer and a little chaotic. It was hard not to think about how both Black and Perry shot to fame in the early 2010s — one through a viral hit, the other as a full-blown pop star — but their trajectories have clearly diverged. Black’s sound today resembles alt-pop artists like Charli XCX or Dorian Electra, with an experimental edge and glitchy visuals that left parts of the crowd visibly confused. Her remix of “Friday” was barely recognizable, and while her evolution is evident and bold, the set felt somewhat mismatched for the broader audience — especially with families and kids in the arena.
But once the lights dimmed again and Perry emerged, any uncertainty from earlier in the night quickly faded. The crowd reflected the full span of her influence. There were older Gen Z fans like me, millennials who came of age during “Teenage Dream” and plenty of parents with kids in tow, clearly passing the Perry torch to the next generation. People came dressed to impress: sparkles, wigs, candy-colored corsets, references to every Perry era you could think of. Yes, even Left Shark made multiple appearances.
Perry, born Katheryn Hudson, is a California native, and her home-state energy was palpable. She owned the stage like someone raised just a few freeway exits away.
She brought fans onstage throughout the show, including little girls, teenagers and a pregnant woman holding a sign that asked Perry to “Name my baby.” After some playful back-and-forth, the audience learned she’d been attending Perry’s shows since the “Teenage Dream” tour. Now, at 30, she was back — a full-circle moment in every sense. Perry suggested the name “Lilly,” but lovingly left the decision up to the mom.
The next song? “The One That Got Away” from the “Teenage Dream” album. I could’ve cried.
The show’s structure felt like a video game: futuristic, high-concept and intentionally over-the-top. It unfolded in levels or missions, each with its own aesthetic, costume change and storyline. There were at least six outfits, all signature Perry extravagance: from butterfly wings and glowing helmets to cotton candy shoes paired with a peppermint swirl dress that looked straight out of “Candyfornia.” It was maximalist, it was camp and it was absolutely Katy. She danced, flipped and sang her heart out — all while reminding the audience between songs that she’s now 40. Truthfully, I was stunned. The energy she brought to the stage made her feel timeless.
Still, the night wasn’t without hiccups. Technical difficulties delayed the show’s start, and while performing “Roar” near the end of the set, floating above the crowd on a massive butterfly, Perry’s rig dropped several feet unexpectedly. She didn’t fall, thankfully, but it gave everyone a scare. Earlier, she reassuringly joked about being in “tech city” and the team needing to figure things out.
Despite the glitches, the show ultimately went off with heart and humor. Once the initial tech issues were sorted, the production hit its stride. Lights, props, projections — the show was never static, never boring.
Perry’s setlist was a dream for longtime fans. From “I Kissed a Girl” and “Hot N Cold” to “Teenage Dream,” “California Gurls,” “Wide Awake,” “Part of Me,” “Dark Horse” and “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.),” every hit landed like a burst of confetti. But I will say — abbreviated as they were — some of the classics felt a little too short. “Teenage Dream,” “Hot N Cold” and especially “California Gurls” (hello, we were in California!) deserved a bit more room to breathe. Those tracks helped define a pop generation, and I wanted to live in them longer.
Still, Perry didn’t just rely on the past. She pulled from her 2020 album “Smile” and her latest project “143,” which brings a more emotionally reflective and synth-pop-infused sound. My personal favorite from “143” was “Lifetimes,” which also happened to be the name of the tour. That track, with its softness and scope, felt like the emotional anchor of the show. In many ways, this performance felt like Perry’s version of Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. It wasn’t just a career retrospective, but rather an evolution laid out through looks, sounds and stages. And Katy pulled it off in her own eccentric, whimsical way.
As she launched into “Firework” to close the night, the arena levitated with energy. Sure, some might call her brand of pop outdated or overly theatrical in 2025’s stripped-back music landscape, but that’s what makes Perry special. She’s never shied away from spectacle. Her performance reminded us that camp, color and carefully curated chaos still have a place in pop, especially when they come from someone who’s always made us feel seen, joyful and just a little bit larger than life.
And for those of us who grew up with Perry’s music, it was a reminder that the best pop stars don’t just give us songs — they give us eras, memories and moments that stay with us long after the lights come up.