Sigrid @ O2 Academy, Leeds, 18/03/26

Sigrid @ O2 Academy, Leeds, 18/03/26

Sigrid keeps it real & Leeds loves her for it

No frills, no façade just pop done properly, powered by heart and hooks

There’s a moment, midway through Sigrid’s Leeds set, where everything slows to a hush just her, a piano, and a room full of people suddenly aware of how quiet 2,300 bodies can be. It’s fleeting. Because minutes later, she’s back on her feet, bouncing, beaming, and dragging the entire O2 Academy into another full-throttle singalong. That push-and-pull intimacy and euphoria, simplicity and scale is what makes Sigrid such a compelling live presence in 2026.

First, though, Etta Marcus sets the tone with a support slot that feels anything but routine. Swathed in fuzzy guitar textures and delivering vocals that hit with surprising force, she commands attention from the off. There’s a cinematic sweep to her sound soft edges masking something more muscular underneath and by the time her set closes, the early crowd has been fully won over. It’s the kind of performance that feels like a preview of a future headline act.

When Sigrid arrives, she does so without ceremony. No grand intro, no overthought aesthetic just white jeans, a T-shirt, trainers, and that familiar, disarming grin. In an era where pop often relies on reinvention and an increasing glamour image, her relatable consistency feels almost radical. She hasn’t drifted toward gloss or mystique; she’s never bowed to the pressure of wearing revealing outfits, Sigrid stayed rooted in something more straightforward, and it works.

From the start, she’s in motion. There’s a looseness to how she performs dancing not as choreography, but as instinct. She pouts, grins, laughs, it’s infectious. Within minutes, the floor is shifting in time with her, a sea of movement that mirrors her own restless energy.

“Suckerpunch” my personal favourite lands early in the set. The punchy, elastic pop of her debut-era material still hits hardest, and the crowd knows it. The reaction is immediate — louder, sharper, more unified than anything that precedes it. It’s not just nostalgia; it’s a reminder of how sharply those songs were cut.

That dynamic continues throughout the night. The newer material ten tracks pulled from There’s Always More That I Could Say is woven confidently into the set, but the contrast is clear. Where the debut songs arrive like sparks, the newer tracks stretch out more, exploring mood and texture over instant impact. Sigrid handles the balance well, never letting the pace sag, but the audience response tells its own story. When the older hits resurface, the room lifts another notch.

Still, the newer songs reveal a different kind of strength. There’s a maturity in how she delivers them less about immediate hooks, more about emotional detail. And nowhere is that clearer than during the mid-to-late set piano section.

Stripping things back, Sigrid takes a seat and lets the songs speak without embellishment. Three tracks unfold in this quieter mode, including the title track of the new album. It’s a bold shift in a set otherwise built on movement, but it pays off. Her voice, unmasked by production, carries a warmth and clarity that cuts through the room. Conversations stop. Phones dip. For a few minutes, the gig feels almost suspended.

Of course, she doesn’t stay still for long. The final stretch ramps things back up, her energy returning in full, pulling the crowd with her.

The encore seals it. “Don’t Kill My Vibe” lands with all the defiance that made it an anthem in the first place, its chorus shouted back with gusto. Then comes “Strangers”, a closer that feels both expansive and personal, its bittersweet edge amplified by the collective voice of the room.

What stands out most, though, isn’t any single moment it’s the absence of artifice. Sigrid doesn’t rely on spectacle or reinvention. She doesn’t chase trends or dress her music in unnecessary layers. Instead, she does what she does best: sharp pop songwriting, an unforced stage presence, and a genuine relatable connection with her audience.

In Leeds, that’s more than enough.