Love on Tour, Forever
July 22, 2023, Reggio Emilia, 5:28 PM EST.
To most people, this date, place and time mean nothing. But for me and the roughly 270,000 other fans watching online and in person that night, it signifies the end of our world. It was at that precise moment in the universe that Harry Styles’ Love on Tour came to an end after three magical years, and we had no idea when we would ever see him again.
This might seem overly dramatic, but the true scale and meaning of Love on Tour is hard to put into words. As someone who spends a lot of time around jazz students, indie musicians, and people who wouldn’t be caught dead listening to pop music, I find this hard to admit: but I am a Harry Styles fan. Gasp! I know, I know! Liking Styles is terribly uncool and my entry rights to Arnhold Hall are likely being revoked at this moment. But before you roll your eyes and close the tab, let me explain how Love On Tour changed the world for me and nearly a million other concert-goers.
It all started when I was ten and I stumbled across a YouTube video of five guys known as One Direction. I followed them fanatically, but never got to see them live. Then, five years later, I watched Harry Styles step out as a solo artist for the first time to perform “Sign of the Times” live on SNL, his hands shaking as he grasped the microphone, and my love for him was cemented. For better or for worse, there was no going back.
Fast forward to 2019, I’m a junior in high school, and taking the SATs pales in comparison to the fact that I have managed to get tickets to Styles’ Love on Tour show for his sophomore album Fine Line, and his special-two-night-only “Harryween” show in New York. Unable to think of much else, I write my college essay on Harry Styles’ liminal presence, and how his refusal to be defined opened up my own understanding of who I could be. (You might roll your eyes but I’m right here alongside you, so grow up and love something already.)
The next semester, I find out that school might shut down for a week. My mum assures me that there’s no way any kind of virus could still be a problem by the time Styles heads out on tour in June. As we all found out, it absolutely was a problem, and the shows were postponed until Fall 2021. In the time between buying the tickets and the show date, I was accepted to my top schools, attended senior year on Zoom, graduated high school, and moved to New York — a stone’s throw from Madison Square Garden.
If you’ve attended a show at MSG, you know that it’s huge. I bought some last minute tickets in the nosebleeds, as far from the stage as you can get. And yet, before Harry Styles even came out on stage, the air was fizzy with anticipation, a dance party full of girls exactly like other girls and loving it. What ensued was unlike any concert that I had ever seen. For two hours, it was more than just a performer playing to an audience, it was a community of love, fun, and music. The enormity of the stadium vanished, and it felt as though Styles was somehow aware of all the individual journeys that had led to this moment and filled every seat. It opened up an awareness in me, a revelation about what live music can be, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
A confession. I immediately followed up this show by snapping up any tickets I could afford and entered into what could kindly be referred to as an obsession. I skipped class to see him in Boston, snagged a ticket to a surprise date on Long Island (and lined up for it in the snow at 5am), bought tickets on eBay when it turned out we’d coincidentally both be in Berlin, ran through the streets of Brooklyn to secure free tickets, and responded to the announcement of his MSG residency by attending more nights than I’m prepared to admit to. The nights I wasn’t there, my TikTok was filled with videos of his various outfits, little dances, and the enduring gratitude and energetic love he offers every single crowd. And so, when this three year relationship between Styles and his fans culminated with a final concert in Italy and I couldn’t be there, I found myself tearing up in a (frustratingly well-lit) restaurant — and looking around to see that I was not the only one.
I’m not necessarily proud of my intense obsession with an ex-boyband member. I’m sure there are plenty of people at The New School just waiting to tell me why Styles is a hack musician with nothing new to say (trust me, plenty already have). But the magic of Love on Tour is unlike anything I’ve experienced at a concert. Whether I was on the barricade or squinting to get a good view, Styles invited me into a room full of love. At a time when I was trying to stand on my own two feet and find a place for myself in a new environment that often felt entirely unwelcoming, Styles was there, giving me a space to make friendships, be authentically myself, and to laugh, sing, or cry. Whatever I was going through, Styles welcomed me in to lie comfortably in the spaces between the notes and chords of his music. At concerts, the crowd was generous with shared water, chargers, and new friendships. During the show, the throngs of fans would hold each other, starting boot-scoots and conga lines in the pit as though they aren’t all strangers. Even after Styles was long gone from the stage, the crowd was always reluctant to leave, remaining on the sticky floor for as long as possible in an attempt to soak up enough joy, love, and magic to last until they saw him again. I will never forget standing in the dark, Styles in front of me, with what felt like the whole arena wrapping their arms around each other, hugging their friends, their family, and people they’d just met tight to themselves as they swayed to his guitar. In that moment, Styles called out to every one of us to assure us that “we’ll be alright,” and I believed him.
Over the course of three years, Harry Styles went from playing arenas with average capacities of around 12,000 people, to stadiums with 100,000, and every crowd was infectious with energy. What I’m talking about probably sounds a lot like just being in a crowd at live music, but trust me, this is different. He gives himself to the audience in a way I’ve never seen another artist do, wearing his heart on his sleeve as he jumps and twirls along. These so-called fanatics and hysterical girls that are so easy to make fun of or reduce as “basic”, are an overlooked backbone of the music industry that Styles recognizes and celebrates. The biggest artists in the past century owe their careers to the throngs of girls who supported them through it all, and he is one of the few artists who openly embraces them.
I am at a loss to find the words to capture exactly what makes Love on Tour different from other live shows. I worry that without them, this piece will all too easily be dismissed as ridiculous. But trust me, it’s something you can feel the second you enter the doors. Styles’ backing musicians have become famous in their own right, individually adored for their artistry as well as their joyful dancing, allowed to take up space on their own without worrying about crowding out their front man. Behind the fringe jackets and shiny pants, Harry Styles acts as a mirror, projecting people’s admiration and energy back to them ten-fold. This is a man who is personal friends with undeniably cool artists such as Stevie Nicks and Stormzy, who casually has a burgeoning film career and skincare line. He doesn’t have to be here, and yet he is, in the most flamboyant and joyous way imaginable.
It’s too exhausting and life is too short to pretend that I’m too cool to love him. The most I can hope for is for all of us to have spaces where we can love what we love at the top of our lungs.
Photo // Anthony Pham
