Self Esteem, Duke Of York Theatre, London review • DIY Magazine

It’s not often that a musician will choose to launch their new album from the confines of London’s West End, but then again, Self Esteem is not like other musicians. In many ways, Rebecca Lucy Taylor has been laying breadcrumbs for tonight - her first of five shows at the Duke of York Theatre - for most of her career. Take her six-month stint performing as Sally Bowles in Cabaret, or before that, scoring the lauded Jodie Comer-starring play Prima Facie. Even her extensive touring run in support of her critically acclaimed second record ‘Prioritise Pleasure’ saw her blur the lines between performance art and gig, via a simple staircase backdrop and a tight-knit troop of singers. Entering the theatre tonight, there’s the sense that everything’s truly been leading up to this moment.

It’s ironic, in a way, that just a few months earlier, Taylor found herself admitting in our cover feature that she was prepped for her forthcoming third album ‘A Complicated Woman’ to get “mixed reviews”, yet, here, she’s previewing the album as a whole in one of the most revealing and candid ways possible. It’s testament to her boldness as a performer.

What unfolds over the next 80 minutes is a journey to every corner of Self Esteem as both artist and woman. From the powerful opening gambit of ‘I Do And I Don’t Care’ - which sees Rebecca appear solo and shadowy on the blacked-out stage, puffing on a cigarette in the album’s Handmaid’s Tale-esque garb - through to the sexy but camp pomp of ‘69’; its cheeky listing of sexual positions eliciting titters of joy from the hushed audience. Split into five distinct acts - Exorcism, Stamina, Men (Messy), Balance and Epilogue - each section bears its own sense of poise and personality, all while echoing the in-the-room community feel from the album’s campaign so far, via her supporting cast of ten. In moments, the room is so quiet you can almost hear the lumps form in people’s throats - take the reflectively sombre ‘Logic, Bitch!’ or the gorgeous a cappella rendition of ‘What Now’, which sees the show’s company singing to one another in the darkness - before people leap from their seats to sing along to the well-worn one-two of second album cuts ‘Prioritise Pleasure’ and ‘Fucking Wizardry’.

Ever a pro at balancing high and low culture, it’s not all stark, pulsating dance moves (‘Mother’) or heart-wrenching performances (‘In Plain Sight’); there’s plenty of fun had here, too. From the mocking wink of her own introduction - “Please be upstanding for the most confusing House of Games contestant!” her voice bellows over the tannoy - to the giant message of ‘Please do this dance on TikTok, I want to buy Janet and Andy a caravan’ that appears on the screen behind her, for the hyper-pop glee of ‘Cheers To Me’, she knows how to handle the ridiculous just as well as the sublime. What’s most on display tonight, though, is the sense of unity in the room. Whether joined by ‘A Complicated Woman’’s more dark or light moments, there’s an overwhelming sense that Taylor speaks so clearly to her audience’s own experiences, which is perhaps why the closing mantra of ‘The Deep Blue Okay’ manages to cut so deep. Accompanied by the three singer-bandmates that have joined her live since 2021 - in what feels closer to the glee of a teen’s concert in their front room than your average night at the theatre - it’s a crystalline, collective lesson in the strength of perseverance, compassion and friendship; a much-needed reminder that trying really is the best we can hope to do.