From the darkness, a neon red heart appeared onstage. Then, a loud crack as it split, jagged, down the center. Kacey Musgraves, a dazzling antidote to a broken heart, stepped out from behind the curtain to the first notes of “star-crossed,” her latest album’s title track.
Musgraves performed her “Star-Crossed: Unveiled” tour at Atlanta’s State Farm Arena Feb. 9, with opening performances from King Princess and MUNA. Despite the tour being over halfway complete, all three performances were full of energy and passion.
MUNA gave a lively performance to a mostly empty arena at 8 p.m. Lead singer Katie Gavin’s voice was commanding enough to make concertgoers who were unfamiliar with the band look up from their cell phones and nod along. MUNA’s three band members have startling chemistry on stage, and their sound resembled a fusion of ABBA and Maggie Rogers.
Mikaela Straus, known by the pseudonym King Princess, took the stage next to perform their new single, “Little Bother,” which features their signature raspy vocals and prominent electric guitar. Straus’ set included hits like “1950,” “Talia” and “Pussy Is God,” as well as “House Burn Down,” another recent single.
Mid-set, Straus asked the audience with a grin, “Are there any homosexuals here tonight?” Scattered cheering erupted, highlighting a fascinating demographic given country music’s conservative roots. Musgraves chose King Princess, a queer icon in the music industry, and MUNA, a band whose collaborative single “Silk Chiffon” with Phoebe Bridgers is a sapphic anthem, to warm up the crowd.
By the time King Princess sauntered offstage, the arena was full; the audience members were primarily under thirty, many wearing cowboy hats and even fewer wearing masks. Amid an Omicron surge, Musgraves chose not to cancel her shows — many of which took place in January, when the wave was at its peak — or impose a vaccine or testing requirement for attendees.
I purchased my tickets in September, but as Omicron swept the world by winter, I got my booster shot and waited anxiously for Musgraves to reschedule. Eventually, I chose a well-fitting KN95 mask and went anyway, knowing I posed no risk to my elderly grandparents while living at school. Sitting in the largely maskless crowd, I felt worried — until Musgraves appeared, and her presence nearly made me forget my anxiety.
When the curtain opened, Musgraves’ opening rendition of “star-crossed” evoked a dramatic atmosphere. Her airy vocals melded with mournful guitar and drums, and the steady build of the outro felt like an ascension away from heartbreak.
Musgraves’ aesthetic is retro reinvented. With her trademark straight and glossy dark hair, she wore a glittering, vintage bikini under a beige sweatsuit. The stage design shifted constantly, but golden hearts, fire and vibrant colors dominated the backdrop.
It was hard not to feel entranced when pink confetti floated down onto the audience during “cherry blossom.” The lyrics reference the fleeting nature of a new relationship. The track is sweet, energetic and, on first listen, light. However, her live performance took on a different quality: hauntingly beautiful in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic and Musgraves’ divorce.
“I’m your cherry blossom, baby/ Don’t let me blow away,” Musgraves sang as she reached an arm toward the audience, closing her eyes. As she swayed in the center of a large blossom on the stage, these lyrics were clearly meant for her fans.
“Good wife,” one of the album’s most evocative tracks, explores themes of anxiety at the beginning of a marriage. Although Musgraves never released the song as a single, the masses of bobbing cowboy hats knew every lyric.
There’s something ironic about such a young audience singing along to “simple times,” a song about Musgraves’ young adulthood. Most young fans have likely never used a pager, referenced in the bridge: “I won’t be waiting by the phone/ So you can hit me on the pager.” But the yearning for something simpler than social media is stronger than the generational gap between Musgraves and Gen Z.
Musgraves took a break to speak to the audience, cracking jokes about Postmates and lockdown as the audience anticipated performances of hits like “justified.”
“If anyone has a broken heart in this room,” she said, “we are going to put that s— back together tonight.”
Part of her heartbreak cure was “breadwinner,” a song about a man feeling threatened by his female partner’s success. For this song, the stage was transformed to display live video footage of Musgraves, embodying the theme of celebrating accomplished women.
Musgraves then dipped into her “Golden Hour” era with performances of “Golden Hour,” “Butterflies,” “Lonely Weekend,” “Space Cowboy” and “High Horse.” For “Golden Hour,” the audience’s glowing bracelets flashed gold, and during “High Horse,” the stage transformed into a pink and blue disco floor.
The mood was nostalgic and light by Musgraves’ encore. She gave her audience a catharsis in the form of rainbow confetti and dreamy lights.
“Protect your energy out there,” Musgraves said.
