Review: Self Esteem - Live At York Museum Gardens
Not a dry eye in the house. Self-Esteem delivered an unforgettable performance in the heart of York as the Live at the Museum Gardens series continues to cement its reputation as one of Britain's finest outdoor concert series.
Joined by one of the strongest support bills of the summer, the Sheffield-born artist was preceded by Joshua Idehen, South African trailblazer Moonchild Sanelly and indie mainstays The Big Moon.
It was spoken word artist Joshua Idehen who opened proceedings, joined on stage by his creative partner and producer Ludvig Parment. Their fusion of spoken word and electronic production occupies a space somewhere between a Boiler Room set and a sermon, pulling the early crowd into reflective reverie. With his debut album, I Know You're Hurting, Everyone Is Hurting, Everyone Is Trying, You Have to Try, released earlier this year, Idehen's performance served as a powerful introduction for those yet to discover one of the most compelling emerging voices in contemporary music.
Photo Credit: Josuha Idehen by Devon Chambers
It is difficult to imagine a more beautiful concert setting than York's Museum Gardens. Festival organisers Futuresound Group transformed the ruins of St Mary's Abbey into a boutique site that feels both intimate and awe-inspiring, where food stalls, bars and carefully considered staging sit comfortably beneath the remnants of medieval masonry. As the evening sun settled across the gardens, the abbey glowed in warm summer hues, reminding everyone why this series has become one of the highlights of York's cultural calendar.
Moonchild Sanelly was up next and was characteristically impossible to ignore. Her electric-blue hair, magnetic stage presence and fearless blend of hip-hop, amapiano and pop won over the audience immediately. She radiated joy from every corner of the stage, while The Big Moon provided the perfect bridge into the evening's headline performance, previewing material from their forthcoming album with hallmark confidence.
Then came Self-Esteem.
Photo Credit: Moonchild Sanelly by Devon Chambers
At around 9pm, Lucy Rebecca Taylor emerged alongside her band. Cloaked and veiled, they evoked images of The Handmaid's Tale as the Gregorian-style chants of “I Do and I Don't Care” filled the gardens. However, the ovation and electric atmosphere of anticipation that greeted her quickly gave way to something more tender. As she delivered her opening monologue, Taylor momentarily faltered under the weight of emotion.
"One day, one day, you will see your reflection in the pub window..."
The crowd collectively held its breath as the distance between performer and audience evaporated and we watched an artist wrestle with the person inside. It was uncomfortable, moving and paradoxically, wholly affirming.
It is this vulnerability that lies at the heart of Self-Esteem's gargantuan appeal. In an age of carefully manicured celebrity, Lucy Rebecca Taylor represents the ebb and flow of the human experience. Her songs give voice to insecurities, frustrations and small acts of resilience that we all experience but few artists appear capable of articulating with such remarkable clarity. Watching thousands of people will her through those opening moments felt like evidence of the symbiotic bond that exists between an artist and their fans, a relationship built on empathy and understanding rather than pure adoration.
Photo Credit: Self-Esteem by Devon Chambers
As Taylor gradually regained her composure, the performance gathered extraordinary momentum. Vocally, she was magnificent, moving effortlessly between twisted confession and soaring pop hooks, while the band wrapped each song in rich harmonies and muscular, pulsating arrangements. Drawing largely from Prioritise Pleasure and last year's A Complicated Woman, the set became a communal act of release. Every anthem was met with deafening singalongs, every declaration of self-worth echoed back by an audience that seemed determined to carry her as much as she carried them.
By the time “The Deep Blue Okay” arrived, the emotional tension that had defined the opening had dissolved into pure, collective catharsis.
"I might fucking try today."
Few lyrics have ever sounded more sincere.
An epic encore followed, closing with “I Do This All the Time” and “Focus Is Power.” It was a fitting conclusion to a performance that began in uncertainty and ended in captivating triumph.
Live at the Museum Gardens has gradually become one of York's defining cultural events, bringing world-class artists into one of England's most remarkable concert settings. If the series continues to grow, it will do more than attract visitors; it will reshape how people think about York's cultural identity. While some have expressed concerns about expanding the programme, it feels clear that a city cannot survive on its history alone. To not capitalise on the momentum of these events would be the real shambles.
