It was the first of two sold-out nights for Kali Uchis’ The Sincerely, Tour at the Kia Forum in Los Angeles, CA (Aug. 20). The kind of night that makes you forget about LA traffic and parking stress, because the second you’re outside the venue, you’re in a full pre-show runway of bootleg merch, the smell of street hot dogs in the air, and a parade of angelic fits that made heartbreak feel like an accessory.
The Forum has hosted its share of pop girlies, but something about this night felt different from the moment I walked in. The crowd was glowing in satin, floating in chiffon, and wrapped in sheer pinks and angelic whites. It felt like lover girl church. Kali didn’t set a dress code, but everyone came dressed on-theme.
Although it was clear from the sea of pink and white that everyone came for the siren with lethal vocals as her weapon of choice, the audience was already locked in by the time the openers took the stage. Rising retro-soul sensations Thee Sacred Souls warmed up the night with velvet-smooth vocals dipped in rich, nostalgic arrangements. With influences that feel cut from the same dreamy cloth, just sewn into a different silhouette — they were the perfect sonic prelude.
Before Kali even stepped on stage, the show opened with a voiceover excerpt from Dr. Myles Munroe, speaking on a woman’s divine timing and preparation. It didn’t feel like hype. It felt sacred, like we were being called into something bigger. Then we saw her. Crawling behind a glass-like video screen, peeking out. She knocked gently, breaking the fourth wall between fantasy and reality. No flashy entrance, just intention and intimacy.
A few songs in, a headlight cut through the fog, and the entire stage transformed into a motorcycle dreamscape. Kali shifted gears effortlessly. One moment, she was soft and ghostly, the next, she was commanding and cinematic. Her world opened up completely, and we were being asked to join.
Kali isn’t a high-energy showgirl, and she doesn’t need to be. There are no fireworks or acrobatics. Her power is in stillness. A glance, a slow crouch, a subtle gesture that makes the whole crowd lose it. Part of that magnetism comes from the visual universe she has built, including her outfits that moved from flowy whites to red latex, all adorned with flowers, rhinestones, or both; the softness and the sting, always in balance.
The first half of the set leaned into her latest album, Sincerely,. Admittedly, I’m an early Kali fan who hasn’t sat with her newer work as much, but it didn’t matter. The performance was hypnotic. The visuals, vocals, and production created a world I wanted to live in, even if I couldn’t sing along. I wanted to be the sultry siren with the rhinestone handgun. Or the one seductively lounging in a giant porcelain teacup. Or the one being divinely lifted in a golden palanquin.
Between outfit changes, she played a home video collage narrated in her voice, speaking about her family, immigration, and community. In a city like LA, with a largely Latine crowd, it landed hard. We were no longer just viewing her, but the arena turned into a room full of people feeling seen.
The second half of the show opened into familiar territory as she ran down collabs, fan favorites, and deep cuts. From “Loner” and “Melting” to “See You Again,” “Sad Girlz Luv Money,” and “Labios Mordidos” (room for more potential tour guests?), it was a full showcase of her evolution. When she asked the crowd to go silent for an a cappella version of the opening track “Sycamore Tree” off her first EP Por Vida, they actually did, her voice filling an entire arena without help.
Then came the biggest surprise of the night. Peso Pluma appeared in sleek all black, joining Kali, who was dressed in angelic feathered wings, for the first live performance of “Igual Que Un Ángel.” The contrast was perfect. The crowd absolutely lost it.
But the night didn’t end in spectacle, it ended in softness. Kali’s final run included her biggest hits “telepatía,” “I Wish You Roses,” and “Moonlight.” But then, curtains down, Kali back, mic in hand, she wished more fans happy birthday, read a sign that said, “Kali you don’t know this, but I shaved my whole body tonight just in case,” and took requests for one last a cappella moment. Night one crowd chose “Fall Apart.” Then she asked if we wanted something unreleased, before giving us one final, untitled song. A thank you and a final kiss blown on-screen ended the show.
Even outside the arena, the show stayed immersive. Her brand, Homebody by UCHIS, had its own photo ops with mirrors and rose props. Fans waited in long lines to document their fits next to scripted lyrics that lined the walls. It may be a Forum-specific activation, but it should travel with her.
The merch was tailor-made for the lover girlies. Soft pinks, rhinestone hats, lipstick-kissed tanks, and Homebody pieces tucked in like curated closet drops. You weren’t just buying merch — you were buying into the Kaliverse.
So, was it worth it?
If you’ve ever been heartbroken on your bedroom floor or slow-danced in someone’s arms to a Kali Uchis song — yes, this show was absolutely worth it. It’s not the place to blackout or turn up; it’s for the soft and chaotic. For those with rhinestone tears and heartbreak in their playlists. A dreamy, theatrical, spiritually cathartic space to dress up, let your guard down, and sing the things we usually keep quiet.
You either want to be her or be with her. And for two hours, we all got to be both. I walked out of that venue a little softer, a little more bedazzled, and completely reminded of the bad bitch I am. And that’s worth a ticket, if you ask me.
