THE FRONT ROW

Some gigs are good. Some are nostalgic. And some are completely outrageous, unhinged, and utterly brilliant. The Scissor Sisters’ return to Leeds after more than a decade away was all of those things, and then some.

This 20th anniversary tour, celebrating the release of their self-titled debut album back in 2004, has been a long time coming. For many of us, these songs soundtracked a certain era — for me, that era was being a kid in the back of my parents’ car, singing along blissfully unaware to lyrics about strippers, sex, and “Tits on the Radio.” As Jake Shears himself hilariously pointed out partway through the show: “Why the hell were parents playing this to their kids?” God only knows. Sitting in the arena next to my sister and those very same parents while inflatable boobs bounced across the stage during the encore made for some truly golden moments.

From the minute they opened with “Laura,” the energy was electric. There was no easing in, no warm-up needed — they were back, and they knew exactly how to whip the crowd into a frenzy. Jake Shears is still every bit the dazzling, devilish frontman he’s always been. Shirtless within minutes, hips in constant motion, his charisma could light up ten arenas, never mind just the one.

Despite Ana Matronic sitting this tour out (a real shame, but she was still present in spirit — her vocals booming out on key tracks), the band didn’t miss a beat. Babydaddy and Del Marquis brought the musical muscle, and the two new backing singers? Absolutely unfiltered. At one point, they were simulating pole dancing in neon, grinding on each other in a car, and throwing out looks so filthy they’d steam up your glasses. I’ve never seen a crowd simultaneously cheer, laugh, and glance nervously at their nan all at once.

The setlist was a pure masterclass in pace and nostalgia. “Better Luck” and “She’s My Man” hit that sweet spot between camp and chaos, while “Lovers in the Backseat” and “Running Out” brought out the deeper cuts for the die-hards. “Take Your Mama” got the loudest singalong of the night, amped up even further by a mash-up with George Michael’s “Freedom! ’90” — a moment that felt joyful, cheeky, and strangely moving.

“Paul McCartney” and “Fire with Fire” brought the tempo up again before things got weird (in the best way) with the moody, theatrical brilliance of “Invisible Light” — a track that still feels like a queer Bond theme on acid. They nailed the mood, the drama, and the strobe-heavy spectacle. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more bonkers, they brought out the inflatable boobs for “Filthy/Gorgeous” during the encore. That, plus the highly questionable visuals and more than a few pelvic thrusts, made for a final 15 minutes of pure, unfiltered Scissor Sisters chaos.

A standout moment for me was “Mary” — one of their more emotional, softer songs that cut through the glitter with something a bit more heartfelt. That’s always been the genius of this band: yes, they’re camp as hell, but they’ve always had soul, too.

“Let’s Have a Kiki” turned the whole place into a full-blown nightclub, and “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’” was the inevitable crowd-pleaser. The sound was crisp, the vocals tight, and the band seemed genuinely thrilled to be back — with Shears grinning like he still can’t quite believe they’re selling out arenas after all this time. To be honest, neither can we. But thank God they are.

Finishing with “Music is the Victim” was a perfect call — a statement, really. For all the drama, absurdity, and sexed-up strangeness, this is still a band built on brilliant songwriting and a love of putting on a proper show.

Walking out of the arena, past dads red faces and couples still laughing at just how unashamedly raunchy it all was, one thing was clear: there’s still no one quite like the Scissor Sisters. Camp, bold, unapologetic, and completely themselves — and in 2025, that’s exactly what we need.