Amelia Moore: outside lands 2025
The girls are not singing like this.
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
As far as first introductions go, Amelia Moore made a stellar showing at Outside Lands 2025. She has it all: a severe orange bob, bleached eyebrows, delightfully unhinged fashion sense, Gen Z lexicon, and vocal agility that leaves listeners gooped and gagged. Her sound is reminiscent of Ariana Grande pre-Glindafication with SZA’s lyrical bite. Before her set, Moore had one goal – to make the crowd “fall desperately and madly in love” with her by the end. Mission accomplished. The girls are not singing like this.
The rising star did not shy away from honesty, sharing that she was on the verge of going broke for the third time before embarking on her entirely self-funded headline tour in 2024. It was, by her own admission, a financially reckless move. Her gamble paid off when TikTok, in a rare show of mercy, rewarded actual talent. Her track, “see through,” off her independently released project went viral, later supercharged by a Coco Jones remix. Suddenly, music execs remembered Amelia Moore existed, sniffing out potential dollar signs like sharks detecting blood. By March 2025, she’d signed to Republic Records.
However, this is not Moore’s first dance with major-label politics. Signed to Capitol records in 2021, she released her much-anticipated teaching a robot to love EP, featuring breakout single “I feel Everything.” Her career prospects were promising – that is until she was dropped by the label for the cardinal sin: low streams. It’s par for the course in an industry that is far less invested in artist development than influencers with ready-made followings. Perhaps if Moore had spent less time making great music and more time choreographing dance challenges, she would have received a six figure investment from a record label of her choice.
Promptly at 12:15 p.m., the show opened with an excerpt from the rom-com He’s Just Not That Into You, a nod to her latest two-installment project of the same name. From the wings emerges a freshly-dyed orange bob paired with dark sunglasses and an outfit that is equal parts dress shirt, sports jersey, and lingerie. Positively eccentric, and all the markings of a star-in-waiting.
The stage design was bare save for a stool draped with cascading orange hair, a somewhat comical touch against the otherwise minimalist setup of a guitarist and drummer. Moore fills the space with ease, bouncing between flirty pop confections and headbangers that threaten to bring on a bout of festival whiplash. The emotional apex arrives with an acoustic rendition of “crybaby,” where her vocal agility and vulnerability seem to bend time. Then, without warning, she transitions into Fergie’s “Big Girls Don’t Cry.” The delivery is so visceral that you almost forget that she’d dropped the mic and broken the stand just moments before. But, as they say… the mic was awn.
Seeing Amelia Moore now feels like being in on pop's best-kept secret, one the algorithm hasn’t fully chewed yet. It’s what early Billie Eilish fans must have felt before every alt-pop hopeful started cosplaying her. If they can resist the urge to manufacture faux-viral moments and instead let her do what she does best, Amelia Moore just might wrestle pop music out of the TikTok Industrial Complex. Because the sad truth about the state of 2025’s music industry is that many “rising stars” are just content creators who got bored of vlogging. Amelia Moore, on the other hand, is a pop star who got bored waiting for the industry to catch up. Stop gatekeeping our girl!
Moore’s crowd wasn’t massive, but give it a year and you’ll soon be cursing Ticketmaster’s dynamic pricing model, wishing people could put down their phones so you can actually watch the damn show.
