During the final, 106th stop of Eilish’s “Hit Me Hard and Soft” tour at the Chase Center Sunday night, songs I’d listened to for years hit me with a completely different force. Hearing Billie Eilish’s voice live, a voice I had long heard from car speakers and headphones, was almost disarming.
When Eilish slipped into early favorites like “when the party’s over,” her voice sounded so impossibly soft and controlled the entire arena seemed to hold its breath. It was one of those rare performances where you forget you’re in a 19,000-seat venue. The space contracts around you, and suddenly, it feels like she’s singing directly to you.
That intimacy became the emotional backbone of the night. “SKINNY,” “Your Power” and “THE GREATEST” unfolded with a vulnerability you don’t usually get at the tail end of a year-long tour. Eilish’s voice cracked — not from exhaustion but feeling — and she even didn’t try to cover it. She lingered in those moments, letting songs do the talking when words wavered. Even the transitions felt thoughtful: after the cinematic chaos of “Oxytocin” and “Guess,” Eilish grounded the arena with the quiet stillness of “everything i wanted” and the nostalgic tenderness of “ocean eyes.”
The simple, open staging amplified her delicate artistry. With a clean runway, minimal clutter and lighting that followed Eilish like a pulse, there truly wasn’t a bad seat in the stadium. Everywhere you looked, there she was — running, kneeling, dancing or just breathing into the mic in a way that felt human.
The creative direction, rather than overshadowing Eilish, let her be seen. And Eilish leaned into her visibility in startlingly honest ways. When Eilish paused mid-show to talk about touring as a teenager, she didn’t soften the truth. She described those years as isolating, suffocating, even depressing — years when she didn’t always want to live through the grind of it all. A hush fell over Chase Center, and it felt different from the usual quiet that comes with a ballad. It was the kind of silence that only settles when an artist is trusting you with something heavy.
But then, Eilish contrasted those early years of celebrity with this tour — an experience she described as joyful, grounding and full of support. This time, she said, she didn’t feel alone.
As Eilish teared up, you could sense the emotional weight of the shift — as well as the longtime sources of support surrounding her. Her drummer, Andrew Marshall, has been with her since day one. Her middle school best friend and that friend’s older sister doubled as the backup singers for the tour. And of course, there was her brother, co-producer and co-songwriter FINNEAS, who first appeared playfully through an under-the-stage selfie camera before rising to the stage after “lovely” to accompany Eilish on the piano for “idontwannabeyouanymore” and “ocean eyes.” Earlier, Eilish had mentioned this was her first tour without him by her side. In that moment, their reunion felt like a return to the heartbeat of her artistry.
The finale run of “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE,” “What Was I Made For?,” “Happier Than Ever” and “Birds of a Feather” felt like a slow exhale — a closing chapter to a year that clearly reshaped her. And when Eilish reminded the crowd that this exact show would be featured in her documentary releasing March 20, the night took on a sense of permanence. We weren’t just watching a concert: we were witnessing a moment she wanted preserved.
It’s crazy to me to remember that I am nearly the same age as Eilish: the acclaimed singer-songwriter is only 23. It’s a number that feels almost unreal when you consider the vulnerability she shared, the emotional intelligence she brought to each song and the scale of what she’s built since 14. If anyone deserves a break — a real moment to breathe, to rest, to simply be — it’s her. And after 106 shows, a run of performances that have clearly meant as much to her as they have to her fans, she’s earned the space to refresh.
When her documentary arrives in March 2026, audiences will get to revisit this exact night — a finale that was less about spectacle and more about honesty, connection and an artist finally rediscovering joy in the thing that once weighed her down.