Draped in a fur coat and matching boots, strapped into a double-neck electric guitar and gripping a microphone adorned with a long fur tail, she opened with “Puddle (Of Me)” from her newly released debut album SAYA. Her ethereal vocals and dreamy lyrics floated over crushing basslines, creating a dizzying, near-psychedelic atmosphere. Even her soft yowls and spectral soundscapes felt arresting—never forced, always magnetic.

Gray moved across the stage with delicate confidence, tiptoeing and twirling like some sort of alt-pop fairy. “It’s crazy to be in your own city,” she said with a wide smile after the first track, clearly moved by the reception.

After “…Thus is Why (I Don’t Spring For Love),” another standout from SAYA, she addressed the crowd with quiet intensity: “I’ve had a bitch of a time in this industry,” she said, referencing the men who had previously doubted her ability to lead. Once a backing musician for acts like Daniel Caesar, Gray now stands front and centre—radiating the eloquent rage of someone long underestimated but finally stepping into her power.

The gratitude she holds for this moment shone through especially during “Shell (Of a Man),” a country-tinged tune that turned into a warm, interactive call-and-response with the audience. Adding to the celebratory nature of the night, Gray brought out two surprise guests—Canadian peers Charlotte Day Wilson and River Tiber—the first guest performers of her headlining career.

The night ended in near-mythical fashion. After her final song, the crowd’s cheers grew so persistent and impassioned, it felt as though they summoned her back to the stage by sheer force of will. Gray re-emerged for one last dreamy serenade, blew a kiss, and frolicked off into the night.