LIVE REVIEW: ALANIS MORISSETTE AT CRYSTAL PALACE PARK, LONDON 04/07/26 (+ RUTI, PALE WAVES, SKUNK ANANSIE)
Photo: Alanis Morissette by Shelby Duncan
Some albums become part of your DNA. For me, Jagged Little Pill wasn't bought with pocket money or unwrapped on Christmas morning. It lived in my older brother's prized cassette collection, tucked between Nirvana and Pearl Jam, and I distinctly remember waiting until he'd gone out before sneaking it into my Walkman. At twelve years old I barely understood what Alanis Morissette was singing about, but I knew it felt different. Dangerous, honest and thrillingly angry. Thirty-one years later, standing in Crystal Palace Park among thousands of people who looked like they'd grown up alongside those songs, it was impossible not to feel that same rush.
The day itself demanded commitment as London was baking beneath relentless sunshine and, with only one stage, there was little escape between performances. Crystal Palace Park lacks the shady sprawl of other outside venues, and by mid-afternoon the black trackway reflected the heat with almost malicious intent. At the same time there was something refreshingly intimate about the setup with nobody rushing between stages or suffering the fear of missing out. This was a carefully curated celebration of women in alternative music, and every artist deserved their moment.
Opening the day was former The Voice UK winner Ruti, whose soulful songwriting offered the perfect gentle introduction. She came across as very humble with a nervous type of laugh that reared its cute head in every sentence she spoke between songs. Her warm vocals and effortless charm eased the growing crowd into the afternoon before London's own The Big Moon lifted the mood further. Unfortunately there were some technical difficulties but when it mattered their breezy indie-pop felt tailor-made for a July afternoon, full of shimmering harmonies and easy chemistry that drew appreciative smiles from an audience steadily filling the park.
Pale Waves nudged the energy upwards with a confident set that mixed glossy indie-pop with just enough pop-punk attitude to bridge the gap between sunshine and catharsis. Heather Baron-Gracie remains an effortlessly compelling frontwoman, and while their polished sound sits in a different lane to the evening's headliner, they felt like a natural part of an all-female bill spanning three decades of alternative music. Then came Skunk Anansie, and suddenly the atmosphere shifted completely.
Skin has always been one of Britain's most electrifying performers, and she remains utterly incapable of giving anything less than everything. Opening with ‘Charlie Big Potato’, she immediately transformed a warm Saturday evening into something approaching controlled chaos. ‘Hedonism (Just Because You Feel Good)’ became one enormous choir, while ‘Weak’ had thousands singing every word with the sort of passion usually reserved for headliners. Between songs, Skin spoke passionately about acceptance and standing against hate, reminding everyone that Skunk Anansie's politics have never been an accessory, they've always been central to who they are. It was impossible not to leave their set feeling both exhilarated and emotionally primed for what was coming next.
As the sky softened into shades of pink and gold, Alanis Morissette walked on stage looking remarkably unchanged. The long dark hair remains, as does the relaxed, bohemian style, but what struck me most was how effortlessly she commands attention. There are no gimmicks, no elaborate choreography, just songs that have spent three decades burrowing into people's lives. Opening with ‘Hand in My Pocket’ was a masterstroke. Within seconds the entire park was singing, and looking around it became obvious this wasn't just another nostalgia crowd. These were women in their forties and fifties who'd lived with these songs through first loves, heartbreaks, careers, motherhood, divorce and everything in between.
Her voice has lost none of its remarkable power. ‘Right Through You’ still crackled with righteous anger, Head Over Feet felt beautifully tender, while Perfect landed with an emotional weight that only seems to deepen with age. The newer material sat comfortably alongside the classics, proving Morissette has never simply become a heritage act repeating old glories. Her songwriting continues to evolve, even as ‘Jagged Little Pill’ remains the emotional centre of the evening. Of course, everyone knew what was coming. Ironic turned Crystal Palace Park into one giant singalong before ‘All I Really Want’ and the ferocious ‘You Oughta Know’ unleashed thirty years of bottled-up frustration in glorious fashion. There was something wonderfully therapeutic about hearing thousands of women scream every lyric together.
Like myself they may have first learned these songs from older siblings' cassette collections, but they've become our own life soundtrack. The encore brought things gently home with ‘Uninvited’ and the beautifully reflective ‘Thank U’. As the crowd slowly drifted towards the exits, I realised this hadn't simply been a celebration of one landmark album. It was a celebration of growing older without losing your voice. Thirty-one years after I secretly borrowed that cassette tape, Alanis Morissette still sounds like she's telling the truth. And perhaps that's why these songs continue to matter, not because they remind us who we were, but because they still understand who we've become.