“ELEGANT, TIMELESS, ETHERAL” LAUFEY LEAVES LONDON CROWD BREATHLESS

LIVE REVIEW | LAUFEY – UNION CHAPEL, LONDON 30th June 2025

There’s a hush that settles over Union Chapel before Laufey walks on stage, the kind you only get in venues that feel more like sanctuaries than concert halls. It’s been a while since she played the Royal Albert Hall, and now she’s back for ‘Laufey’s Serenade’ . Now stepping into this space , it felt like stepping back into a gentle dream, one where time slows down, where voices echo against stained glass and wooden beams, and where we are all allowed to simply be for a while.

When Laufey walked out in a white, bride-inspired dress, the collective gasp in the room was nearly audible. She looked like she had stepped straight out of an old love song—elegant, timeless, ethereal against the backdrop of a church. It felt symbolic, too: a vow to her audience, to her craft, and to the quiet promise that she will always return with songs that hold your heart gently.

Her setlist was a soft dance between past, present, and the yet-to-come. She played favourites from Everything I Know About Love, and songs that have become quiet companions to many of us, while also letting us peek into the future with unreleased songs from her upcoming album A Matter Of Time, which she is currently promoting.

Midway through the set, she introduced a song written in the in-between of albums, she explained it as a “Get away from the soft girl side” song. Before she started, she laughed about wanting to scream in this one—a small rebellion from the softness she is often known for. Even so, the song fit perfectly, a bridge between eras, reminding us that softness and strength can sit side by side. In a venue like Union Chapel, even a scream feels sacred, an offering to the high ceilings and quiet corners.

There was a moment that stood out like a tiny star in the night: when she performed ‘Letter To My 13 Year Old Self’ , a recently released duet with the one and only Barbra Streisand—a childhood dream turned into reality. When she reached the lyric, “little girls will cheer your name” the audience responded with a big, warm cheer that felt like it carried Laufey’s younger self in its arms, letting her know she made it. It was one of those moments that makes you grateful to be in the room, witnessing something deeply personal shared so generously.

Her voice, rich and clear, suited Union Chapel perfectly, wrapping around the space with the kind of warmth that makes you close your eyes just to feel it better. The acoustics let her notes linger, catching in the rafters before falling gently over us. And when she invited us to sing along, it felt like the truest purpose of a church: a place where people come together to sing, to listen, to feel.

Union Chapel became a place of soft reverence that night—a place where we were reminded that it’s okay to be tender, to hope, to feel, and to let yourself be moved by a voice that feels like a warm hand in yours. Laufey gave us all that, and more, in a show that felt like both a promise kept and a promise of all that is still to come.