Sometimes, I think the best way to experience a concert is to go in completely blind – meaning no peeks at the setlist, no checking out the openers beforehand, and walking through those venue doors with no expectations. In a time where social media spoils everything, including concerts, that element of surprise you get feels rare. And after spending a week bedridden with a mystery illness, I was desperate to get back into a photo pit, and VANA at Gramercy Theater on April 25th felt like the perfect reintroduction. 

I quickly realized that every act on the lineup was a female artist or a female-fronted band. That choice felt intentional, powerful, like VANA and her team wanted to show heavy music fans that women could command their own sound and presence while sharing one stage for multiple sold-out stops across the country. RedHook, an explosive metalcore band from Australia, opened the show. It was their first time playing in New York City but any nerves that might come with a debut like that were nowhere to be found. Their set was high-energy, blending heaviness with an undeniable sense of fun that immediately pulled the crowd in. 

Next was Deadlands, who traded any jitters for hometown confidence. As a New York-based group, they played like they had something to prove and everything to celebrate. Their energy was relentless, amplified by a crowd that clearly knew them well. And filling in for Germany’s Cloudyfield – who had to unfortunately step back due to visa issues – was Chandler Leighton. With less than two weeks to prepare for the tour, one might expect some hesitation, but Chandler showed absolutely none. Had she not mentioned it, I don’t think anyone would have even realized. She moved across the stage with sharp confidence, balancing poise and intensity in a way that felt both controlled and feral. Despite being the most subdued act on the bill, her performance never once lost momentum and she easily kept up with the heavier acts. 

By the time VANA took the stage, my ears were ringing from my forgotten earplugs and I could feel the remnants of my lingerie illness creeping back but I pushed that all down. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet as the lights dimmed, feeling much more like a fangirl than a working media person. The tour, titled The Lady In Red, feels like an extension of VANA herself. The color red was more than just a color throughout her set. Rather, it was a statement. 

Red lights flooded the stage, her outfit (a beautiful lolita-style dress) burnt just as brightly, and even her hair matched into the aesthetic. It felt deliberate, like she’s imprinting an identity into the audience, as if she’s saying, “When you see red, I want you to think of me.” 

Going into the show, I wasn’t too familiar with her music. What I had heard fell outside my usual rotation of pop-punk or surf-rock. But live, her songs transformed completely. Like her supporting acts, VANA commanded the stage. Every movement felt intentional, every pose was camera-ready, and every moment was charged with pure energy. She knew exactly how to work a stage while still making it look effortless. 

What stood out most, though, was her joy. More often than not, VANA wore a bright, genuine smile, taking in the crowd as much as they took in her. She moved with a kind of awe, like she couldn’t quite believe the venue was sold out, that fans were screaming her name, headbanging and hanging onto every moment. That feeling translated, making her performance not just impressive, but truly magnetic. 

By the end of the night, whatever lingering sickness I had felt was long gone, replaced by ringing ears, tired legs, and that familiar post-show clarity. Going in blind reminded me why live music hits the way it does, for me at least: you can’t replicate that energy, that connection, or even that unpredictability. VANA snapped me right back into that pit and remains a striking reminder of exactly why I keep coming back.