Maude Latour (w/ MARIS) @ Royale 3/18

Photo credits: Rachel Bernstein

Review by Kyra Matteo

Maude Latour shimmered with glittery makeup, fishnets, and hair tinsel as she performed songs from her new album “Sugar Water,” at the Royale on Tuesday night. On stage, Latour looked like a natural performer, with her long blonde hair whipping around as she jumped and danced during her songs. The audience followed her lead, many dressed just like her in sparkly concert outfits, ready to embrace Latour’s music and infectious energy.

On paper, Latour doesn’t fit the mold of a typical pop star. Born in Sweden to accomplished parents—her father the CEO of Dow Jones and her mother a journalist specializing in business—Latour seemed destined for a conventional and privileged path. Despite earning a philosophy degree from Columbia University, Latour chose to follow her passion for music, forging a career that defied the expectations set by her academically and corporate-driven background. 

She began writing songs at just 15, but it wasn’t until her 2020 single “One More Weekend” went viral on TikTok that she truly rose to fame. During her senior year at Columbia, Latour signed to Warner Records over Zoom amid the pandemic, cementing her transition from college student to breakout pop artist.

Latour specializes in nostalgic queer pop anthems—bold, unapologetic, and irresistibly catchy. One of the first songs of the night was “Too Slow,” a bubbly pop song that romanticizes the high school experience and the power of female friendship. With a pom pom in hand, she belted out lyrics like, “All the girls are getting in my car, do their makeup on the highway / Band kids kiss the football team and I keep kissing cheerleaders,” inviting the crowd to sing along.

On stage, Latour sang about the highs and lows of the teenage experience—fleeting crushes, friendships collapsing, romantic heartbreak, and warm summer nights. “Oh, oh wind in my hair / Oh, oh summertime air / Oh, oh we were so young…Flashbacks making me crazy / All I have left is the photos / What do I do with the memories, baby?” she sang as she performed “Comedown.” Her words painted a vivid picture of a coming-of-age movie scene—driving down the highway at night, hair blowing in the wind, desperately clinging to the final moments of summer.

The end of summer is a recurring motif throughout Latour’s music, capturing the bittersweet nostalgia of returning to school and leaving behind the carefree days of youth. In her lyrics, summer becomes a metaphor for the end of something bigger—a season of recklessness and romance that gives way to the responsibilities of growing up. For teenagers, this is a pivotal moment; it’s the closing of a chapter, a moment they can’t get back.

Throughout the night, Latour made clear that she values connection and belonging. Early on, she encouraged those who were single or open to making new friends to raise their hands in an effort to help those in the audience connect with each other. At one point, she even took a break from running around the stage and ventured into the middle of the crowd to sing the first chorus of “Save Me,” breaking down the barrier between performer and fan. As she sang, “Baby, can you save me, can you save me?”, she invited everyone to put a hand on a stranger’s shoulder, creating a powerful moment of shared human connection.

Even in her softer, more poignant moments, Latour’s stage presence never waned. She effortlessly reenergized the young crowd as she peeled off her glittering football jersey to reveal a shimmering blue bodysuit beneath. She then led the audience in a cathartic, primal scream, urging them to purge their negative energy and make space for the vibrant music that was about to fill the room.

In her final song of the night, “Cursed Romantics,” a driving pop song and the standout track from “Sugar Water,” Latour poured every ounce of passion into the performance. Her vocals, reminiscent of Marina Diamandis from Marina and The Diamonds, captured the raw intensity of a love consumed by obsession and chemical addiction, eating away at your insides and inviting the audience to remember that feeling of emotional chaos–and they drank it up.