Olivia Rodrigo’s first San Francisco present has chaotic traces

The line at Olivia Rodrigo’s final US concert of her “Sour” tour in San Francisco stretched the span of Bill Graham Civic Auditorium — twice — and the entire length of City Hall on Friday night.

That was, in part, by design. Imagine this: The defining pop star of this young decade booked what is essentially an oversized high school theater to perform her globe-conquering debut album “Sour,” all so that she won’t “skip any steps” in her already-expedited route to pop stardom. (In other cities, they booked even smaller venues, like the 5,900-capacity Greek Theater in Los Angeles.)

She may have made the right call. Her music thrives in small spaces, where the din of the crowd singing in unison feels rapturous given so many of her early singles (recorded in 2020 and released in early 2021) came out in such a solitary time of the pandemic.

“I think that’s the most beautiful thing about music,” Rodrigo said just before playing “Driver’s License,” the song that consecrated her career, “is that sometimes it can communicate how we feel better than words ever could.”

When she says a line like that with that much conviction, you can’t help but believe it for yourself, too.

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE

For her primarily Gen Z audience, Olivia Rodrigo’s best songs feel like they subsume into you, make you feel whole, understood. At the very least, they compel her audiences to lose their voice the next morning or brave the San Francisco chill in their shein best. Rodrigo’s songwriting crystallizes the depths of heartbreak in all the rage, the paranoia and envy. Like every other teenager, she cares about what other people think — maybe too much.

And in a live setting, these earnest, life-affirming songs f–king ripped. Her theater kid vocal proofs was on full display. Every word she sang had at least a few thousands of others singing alongside her; and for her biggest hits, the 8,500-seat auditorium’s collective voice felt like it hung in the air long after the show ended.

“God damn, I really did save the best show for last,” she joked, at one point, after hearing how loud the crowd sang with her.

Rodrigo’s muse during her tour has been less the singer-songwriters that inspired “Driver’s License” and more the alt-rock station rotation that shaped “Good 4 U” and other, rock-heavy songs on “Sour.” “Brutal,” with its intentionally angsty sing-speak cadence, felt utterly alive. When the crowd yelled “Where’s my f–king teenage dream?” with her, you felt the collective venom of fleeting youth seeping out.

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE

These songs she wrote in her bedroom, given this space to bloom and a crowd who latched onto her every word, turned into cathartic, rocking missives over the span of her hour-long set. Take “Happier,” a meek, pleading ballad to a moved-on ex. She jettisons the folksy piano of the recorded song entirely, transforming it into an arena-rock romp that could fill a stadium triple the size of Bill Graham. “Jealousy, Jealousy” got a full pop-punk retrofit; at the show, it felt almost like hearing a long-lost Paramore B-side for the first time.

Even the covers she chose for the tour felt intentionally KROQ-y — Avril Lavigne’s “Complicated” and No Doubt’s “Just A Girl,” both of which she’s done in other cities. (If I had one gripe about the show, I wish she did a ’90s, female-led song with a deeper Bay Area tie — hearing Rodrigo do her version of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” or 4 Non Blondes’ “What’s Up? ” would have been a treat.)

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE

The whole time, Rodrigo was vivacious — running back and forth across the stage animated entirely by the love of performing and the adulation of the crowd around her. She dazzled, with so much energy and zeal and gratitude for even getting to be in the room with everyone. The confetti at the end of the night had messages scrawled on them thanking fans for coming to the tour.

But for as much as Rodrigo has been made out by older audiences to be an avatar of endless, indefatigable youth, you forget how young she really is.

Throughout the show, there was this nagging feeling of being an interloper — that the night was a homecoming for the young people who took this album and made it part of themselves.

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE

Olivia Rodrigo just turned 19 this year. She is wise, but not wise beyond her years. She cares deeply, enough to stop her show twice within the span of 10 minutes (and cutting into her performance of “Traitor,” forcing her to start again from the top) when two people in the crowd needed medical help. She’s a sage for the teens and tweens worried about what the cool kids are up to, or if their emotionally unavailable boyfriend is talking up another girl. But being a young person today means having to think constantly about the world and how punishing and unfair it can just be.

Consider the extended, chaotic lines leading up to the show. A concert staffer outside told me that the lines were so long in part because security measures were beefed up, likely in light of this week’s massacre in Uvalde, Texas. (In her LA show earlier this week, she explicitly called for “stricter gun control laws in America”; she’s also spoken out about abortion rights this tour.)

I don’t envy anyone who has to come of age right now. I am not much older than the mean age of the concert but I cannot fathom what it is like, growing up with nonstop pain and loss presenting itself at every turn, on every screen.

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE

While preparing for her concert and writing this review, I’ve thought a lot about the final song on “Sour,” a sweet lament called “Hope Ur Ok.” In it, she ponders about old acquaintances who have suffered at the hands of neglectful, uncaring parents. It felt out of place in an album so preoccupied with love and its discontent — and even live, it felt too much, like this young woman should not have to carry, let alone perform an entire song about this burden.

Pop stars across generations — from Janet to Gaga — have written songs about the state of the world. And, yet, there’s something to be said for a 19-year old who, on her crown-making first album, felt the need to write a song about how adults, time and time again, have failed young people.

All the other songs about the intricacies of teen relationships ring truer because all Rodrigo wants is for her listeners to be OK. During these anxious times, that feels like enough.

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE

Olivia Rodrigo performs at the Bill Graham Civic Center, in San Francisco, on Friday, May 27.

Charles Russo/SFGATE