Lana Del Rey proves the importance of female headliners
Last month’s Glastonbury Festival highlighted the gender imbalance that still remains at the core of the music industry, with a lineup of almost exclusively white male headliners. While the poster boasted acts such as new wave legends Blondie, hitmaker Lizzo and alternative pop icon Lana Del Rey, Guns ‘n’ Roses were selected for the Saturday headline slot. The 1980s metal band brought their outdated songs to the supposedly progressive festival in a move that seemed to go against everything Glastonbury stands for.
Eve Horne from UK Music’s Diversity Taskforce claims that since the Covid-19 pandemic, the music industry has made it even harder for female artists to prosper. “Everyone started going for the money again and saying there’s too much risk in putting women as headliners,” she told Sky News. Moreover, Horne explains that promoters often tell her that festival-goers prefer to watch male performers. Yet, the fact that Lizzo and Del Rey amassed larger crowds than Guns ‘n’ Roses proves that festival-goers do, in fact, want to watch female performers.
I got thinking about all of the above while standing among a crowd of excited fans in London’s Hyde Park for Del Rey’s highly-anticipated headline gig. The sun was beaming down over masses of girls in heart-shaped sunglasses and white dresses, some of whom had been queuing since the early hours of the morning in the hopes of nabbing a spot at the barrier. I’d never seen so many young girls and women in one place, all complimenting each other’s outfits, screaming the lyrics to Del Rey’s songs and dancing carelessly. The sold-out show was so high in demand that crowds gathered outside the venue to listen to echoes of Del Rey’s performance, highlighting the singer’s beloved status.
As I sang and danced to hits like ‘Born to Die’ and ‘Summertime Sadness’ and attempted to hold back tears for ‘Ride’ and ‘Video Games’, I felt an overwhelming sense of togetherness standing in a crowd of mainly other women. United by Del Rey’s lyrical endeavours into the female experience, the communal feeling that lingered through the crowd was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The audience was a safe space to unashamedly give in to the impulse of acting like a teenager, and I channelled the same enthusiasm as I did ten years ago when I first discovered Del Rey’s music.
There was a similar sense of empowerment during other performances, particularly over on the Rainbow Stage, where Tommy Genesis delivered a blistering set of anthemic rap, including hits such as ‘a woman is a god’ and ‘100 bad’, in which she sings, “Hundred bad bitches in the city/ All the girls, they are so pretty.” These lines were sung in unison by everyone in the crowd, who were magnetised by the musician’s effortless confidence and warm presence. There’s a beautiful power that comes with singing such lyrics in a field alongside other women, especially your friends, revelling in a joyous celebration of being a girl.
As my friend and I walked back to our hotel, passing by the pink overpriced rickshaws blasting Del Rey’s music, we discussed the importance of watching female artists. Not only is it vital for women to be given opportunities to perform, but it’s also essential for female audiences to be given a space to just be. Del Rey’s gig was a joyous celebration where a majority female audience had the freedom to be as unashamedly themselves as they liked.
After witnessing the impassioned crowd, I wondered how there’s ever been a doubt in people’s minds about Del Rey being an unworthy festival headliner. Her ability to unite the crowd was incredible, and in such a male-dominated industry, her powerful performance was refreshing to witness.
