Empire Of The Sun Alexandra Palace

Okay, so picture this: it’s a crisp, slightly damp October evening in 2023, and I’m standing in a field in rural Hertfordshire, a can of warm beer in one hand and my phone dying in the other. A bloke in a massive, inflatable dinosaur costume bumps into me, apologises aggressively in Scouse, and then the opening strings of “Alive” hit the PA. That was my first Empire of the Sun show—an absolute riot of glitter, lasers, and confused parents. But let me tell you, nothing—nothing—prepared me for what I saw inside Alexandra Palace last month.

I know, I know. You might think, “Aren’t they those guys with the face paint from the 2008 YouTube algorithm?” And yes, you’re not wrong. But trust me, they’ve levelled up. The Alexandra Palace gig was less a concert and more of a psychedelic fever dream that someone accidentally booked into a Victorian glass palace. (Side note: have you ever tried walking up that hill? My calves are still sending me passive-aggressive emails.)

The Vibe: Like a Dune rave in a greenhouse

Walking into the Ally Pally’s Great Hall is always a little surreal—it’s this massive, arched temple of iron and glass that smells faintly of nostalgia and spilled cider. But when Empire of the Sun fill it with their brand of theatrical synth-pop, it becomes something else entirely. Luke Steele, in his signature headdress and metallic armour, looked less like a rock star and more like a time-travelling peacock overlord.

The band didn’t just play songs; they curated an atmosphere. The stage was a mess of giant LED sunbursts, dancer robots, and a guy playing a keytar while wearing what I can only describe as a lampshade from a fancy hotel. And the crowd? A glorious mix of nostalgic millennials, TikTok-obsessed teens, and one very confused pensioner who I think wandered in from the nearby pub. Legend.

That moment with the lights

Here’s where I have to get a little bit serious, just for a second. At one point during “Walking on a Dream,” the entire hall went pitch black. No phones, no moon through the glass—just silence. Then, a single, tiny LED star appeared on the back wall. Then another. Then a thousand. The crowd gasped—like a cheesy, genuine, collective gasp. For four minutes, we weren’t in north London; we were floating in a digital nebula, and honestly? I almost cried into my £8.50 pint of warm lager.

This is the trick Empire of the Sun pull off, and they do it brilliantly. They mix the bombastic—think “We Are the People” with its hands-in-the-air euphoria—with these fragile, intimate moments that remind you that underneath the space-age costumes, they’re just two blokes from Australia who really, really like glitter. And they make you feel like you’re in on the secret.

Let’s talk about the sound for a second. Alexandra Palace’s acoustics are notoriously tricky—it’s a giant echo chamber if the engineers get it wrong. But whoever was on the desk that night deserves a raise (or at least a shout-out). The bass was punchy without rattling your teeth, and the synths sounded crisp, like they were being beamed directly from 1984. Even Nick Littlemore’s backing vocals, which can sometimes get buried, came through clear as a bell. (Your ears will thank you if you ever go—bring some good plugs, though, because the high-end can still sting.)

What about the new stuff?

Look, I’ll be honest: their latest album, Ask That God, is a bit of a mixed bag. But live? The new songs slap differently. “Changes” turned the entire hall into a seething, joyful mosh pit of middle-aged dads doing dad-dancing. And “AEIOU” (featuring the band’s unexpected foray into tropical house) got a surprisingly passionate response from the younger crowd near the front. It’s proof that the band isn’t resting on their Walking on a Dream laurels—they’re still curious, still weird, and still totally unafraid to look ridiculous.

However—and I say this with love—the encore was a masterclass in emotional manipulation. They ended with “Alive,” obviously. The room erupted. People were crying, hugging strangers, and waving phone lights like they were summoning a spaceship. I saw a guy in a full beard tear up. It was messy, loud, and absolutely perfect. If you left before that, you made a terrible mistake. Seriously, what were you thinking?

So, if you ever get the chance to see Empire of the Sun at a venue like Alexandra Palace—go for it. Don’t just go for the hits. Go for the ridiculous costumes, the over-the-top light show, and the weird, communal feeling of standing in a historic hall while a man in a helmet sings about swimming in a dream. Bring a friend, but stand a little apart so you can soak it all in. And for goodness’ sake, leave the cynicism at the gate. Sometimes, you just need to let a giant, sun-worshipping Australian band make you feel like a kid again.