Fortitude Music Hall erupts in technicolour with Jacob Collier’s Djesse Tour.

Photography: Thomas Vu @thattomvu

I can’t lie - Tuesday the 10th November 2025 was one of those nights I was exceptionally close to staying in. It had been a massive week and frankly, I was exhausted. But when the media pass for Jacob Collier came through, I knew that I couldn’t sit this one out.

Being in a Jacob Collier crowd is an opportunity I’ve long dreamt about. The all-encompassing choral exultation, the dynamic musical range and the bubbling authenticity has drawn me in over the socials for years. And most of all – that unquenchable, contagious JOY!

And boy, I can I tell you it was all that and more. Within moments I was struck by how wholesome and genuinely excited to be there the entire crowd was. While I walked in exhausted, it took all of two seconds of Collier’s grandiose cinematic intro to light me up with a smile from ear to ear. And it didn’t slip off once.

Within a song, he had already titled us his favourite audience of the tour so far (a classic line the realistic part of my brain reminded me is likely recited every show, but the excitable part took to heart with pride).

Musical wizardry. That’s how I can best describe it. A technicolour rollercoaster conducted with talk-show-host flair and all the humble human honesty contained in a home-brewed kitchen cup of tea. And through it all, that insane musicianship – like the very air Collier breathes is music. I couldn’t help thinking to myself he must be one of the most fluent in the world at speaking the language of music.

Photography: Thomas Vu @thattomvu

We shot through explosions of sound, transitioning seamlessly between boogieing to breathless in seconds. All the while Collier had us starry-eyed and perched on the arm of his metaphorical lounge-room chair. That’s how intimate the show felt - like chatting with an old friend. And yet at the same time, you never at any moment had any idea what was about to happen next.

We skimmed through just about every genre – from classical piano pieces to Coldplay/Queen-adjacent rock ballads and solo acoustic tracks where you could literally hear a pin drop. Music fit for a room with chandeliers. I also must pay tribute to the insane musicianship of the band – phenomenal! In particular, the backing vocalist Parijita shone. She carried such a vibrant energy and cast out insane vocal runs (at the age of only 20!!).

One of my favourite moments was Little Blue. The song began with just Collier and the crowd, singing together with a softness that felt akin to a childhood lullaby. The chords waltzed through jazz-inspired variations, injected with a delightfully refreshing authenticity as he chuckled a “sorry!” - realising he might have stretched the chords a little too far at one point.

I really think it’s this showing up exactly as he is, yellow crocs and all, that inspired the crowd to enjoy themselves so honestly. By the end of the night, every single person around me was dancing and clapping along freely – pure joy radiating off their faces. The song built into that exultation, the incredibly lit background racing through projections of colours and pine trees as the band joined Collier for the climax.

Photography: Thomas Vu @thattomvu

Later, we painted a garden with our voices, giggling as we “shh”-ed our way out of choral harmonies, vocally building an entire world out of cicadas and monkey sounds. A delightfully silly example of how we were invited to let go together, embracing the very essence of fun and exploration music presents.

Another very wholesome moment occurred mid-show, when Collier decided to sing happy birthday to a fan. Maybe it was the energy in the room, but I’ve got to give the crowd credit - it was probably the only time in my life I’ve ever heard “Happy Birthday”’ sound harmonic.

Now I have to speak personally for a second. I was raised (since literally before birth) in my dad’s local community choirs. As a child, singing together with a group of people was the epitome of home. No matter how my day had been, it made me feel free, present, connected, safe. It was a place I could exist exactly as I am. (Still today it’s my favourite feeling probably in the entire world.)

At the end of these childhood choir rehearsals (which were always held on Tuesdays), my dad would do this thing where we would all stand in a circle and start with a single note, then each sing whichever harmony felt right to us. I would sit in the middle, legs crossed and eyes closed as the voices swelled and danced around me. It was medicine.

Now years later, at Collier’s conducting (also ironically on a Tuesday!), I shared in an experience of exactly that again - this time with thousands of beaming strangers in the heart of the Fortitude Music Hall. Pure humanity.

Photography: Thomas Vu @thattomvu

I’ve thought about it a lot, and I really feel so much of this energy also stems from Collier’s entire attitude to music from an audience connection standpoint. To sum it all up, I jotted down some of the words he said on stage that inspired me the most:

First, he spoke about his own childhood and how good it felt when he would make music -  that incredibly relatable and universally liberating “feeling of freedom,” of being “infinite.”

Then, he outlined how this feeling evolved beyond the music itself as he grew and toured. He shared how he “fell in love with audiences” – that the people became everything!

He spoke straight to us with that bubbling, welcoming warmth, expressing the essence of the experience with us:

“You’re like my extended family, I feel such a sense of kinship and family with you. Music does this with people; it brings people together. We’ve never gathered before and we’ll never gather in this exact formation again.”

Such a simple yet simultaneously vast concept, but the perfect summarisation of exactly the magic we were experiencing. He rounded the whole sentiment up with gratitude:

“I’m so grateful to make music - not just for you, but with you. Thank you for making me feel at home.”

And to that I say ditto. Thank you, Jacob Collier, for creating such a joyful, celebratory musical playground where we could all feel human, held as we are and at home.