Everybody Scream: Two Nights with Florence + the Machine

Florence Welch in a red dress holding a microphone, standing on a runway in a sold-out arena; she is singing

Last weekend, my wife and I attended two concerts by indie pop/rock/R&R artist Florence + the Machine. I had never seen the band before, despite hits like ‘The Dog Days Are Over’ and ‘Shake It Out’ worming their way into my brain years ago and remaining there since. The band is, however, my wife’s favorite, so naturally we snagged tickets to both nights*.

*I operate under what I call the Tom Petty Principle. Back in 2016, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played Wrigley Field. I wasn’t able to go, and reasoned that this was okay because Tom Petty toured a lot and I’d have more chances to see him play life. One year later, he tragically passed away. Ever since, if there’s an artist I really want to see and I’ve never seen them or they are one of my favorites, I will move heaven and earth to get tickets because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, etc. It’s not the most fiscally responsible situation, but on the other hand, I’ve not missed anything too big if I could afford it, so there.

Coming in as a novice, I wasn’t fully sure what to expect. I knew that Florence Welch is a consummate vocalist, with a powerhouse voice that can soar and whisper and dive and belt and swoon all at the same time. I knew that ‘The Machine’ was a backing band of powerful rhythm, propelling along the soul-inflected chamber pop with dance beats and pulsing synths. I knew a harp was involved.

Surprise surprise, the concerts were excellent. The band was in top form, and Florence Welch commanded an entire arena with her voice, running back and forth along a runway while delivering emotional driven ballads and laments. My wife and I had a fantastic weekend attending both shows.

But what really intrigued me was the way that Welch is using horror tropes and themes to create this new arena spectacular – specifically folk-horror themes.

Let’s dig in.

Everybody Scream: An Intro

Florence onstage in a black dress holding a microphone. Four dancers in white dresses stand behind her, arms swaying

There’s been enough written about the latest album from Florence + the Machine, so I’ll just recap some basics with a little bit of context. (As a newcomer to F+tM, I figure that others with a more thorough historical understanding of the band will speak better than me.)

Everybody Scream was released last year, on Halloween. Florence Welch had been teasing the album for several months leading up to it, releasing posts and images laden with images of witchcraft and witchery. The first single, the title track of the album, delved further into the imagery. Just take a look here:

If your album leans that heavily into a witchy vibe, you of course must release the record on Halloween.

If you’ve read this far, you’ll gather that I’m a fan of the album. Even beyond me and my personal taste, the album has received rave reviews. Welch has cited Everybody Scream as her most personal record, coming out as it did in the wake of life-saving surgery in 2023. Beyond that, it delves into the “brutal, ugly and raw sides of femininity” and “a chronically online generation clutching at new age practices for relief.” It’s a cry into the void about how hard it is to exist in these modern times…especially if you’re a woman.

What’s especially interesting to me is the way that the album uses folk-horror as not only an influence but a developmental and core structural support for the record.

Something In The Trees: An Intro to Folk-Horror

Christopher Lee in the Wicker Man - hair wild, arms upraised; a wicker man figure stands behind him

What is folk-horror?

It’s a nebulous term that can mean a lot of things. In casual conversation, folk-horror is a term used to describe literary and cinematic horror movies that trade on rural communities that delve into mysticism, occult rituals, witchcraft, and natural horrors. From the Wikipedia: “Although related to supernatural horror film, folk horror usually focuses on the beliefs and actions of people, rather than the supernatural, and often deals with naive outsiders coming up against these”.

The role of the Outsider venturing into a new and unfamiliar community is the staple of folk-horror. Early classics of the genre include The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971) and The Wicker Man (1973)*, while more modern takes range from The Children of the Corn series to The Blair Witch Project. Midsommer is an excellent example of modern day folk-horror.

One particular staple of the genre involves the Outsider venturing into a community, intruding in some cases, invited in others. Once they’ve arrived, weird things start happening as they slowly become aware or are made aware of the rituals and fashions of the community they’ve intruded to. It’s a fairly conservative genre that plays on fear of the Other and underserved communities, portraying them as backwards, against the natural order, and so on. Often times, the community in question is in deeper service of The Land or Nature, with the Outsider serving as a figure of Civilization and Progress. The conflict results from the clash of these two opposite forces, resulting in a horrific response.

That’s the two-cent introduction, anyway. Others have written about the subject at length, and if you’re interested, I highly recommend diving in and reading the linked pieces to gather more than my layman’s knowledge of the subject.

So, that’s folk-horror. And Florence is using tropes of folk-horror in her album and new stage performance. What really interests me is both how she’s using those tropes and how she’s subverting them and turning them back upon themselves to create something fresh and invigorating.

The Magic and The Mystery

Florence and the Witch Choir, centered in the runway before a sold-out crowd

Florence is doing something very interesting with the Everybody Scream album. Rather than simply replicating folk-horror tropes for vibes – cackling witches, spellcraft, etc. – she’s taking elements of the genre and using them for commentary upon a feminine existence in modern times. The whole album is baked through, reflecting both upon her personal health and trauma and upon a greater sample of existence – all of which is viewed through a folk-horror lens.

Consider this excerpt from a larger work by Drs. Sara Cleto and Brittany Warman at the Carterhaugh School of Folklore and the Fantastic:

“…a large part of what makes it work is that a major typical plot point is removed – the outsider coming in to gawk at/ being horrified by the primitive people and their weird traditions. The Folk Horror elements of this album do not position you, Welch, or anyone as the outsider looking in at strange old traditions. Instead, it treats you as a well-versed coven member, an insider, someone Florence is inviting to the ritual dance because she knows you already know the steps.”

Indeed, rather than subject an outsider to the album (exclusion), the album invites you into a fully inclusive experience. You are wrapped in the pain, ecstasy, and sorrow expressed by Welch and the band rather than consumed by it. (It’s Everybody Scream, not Just You Scream, after all.)

Writer Lizzie Bickerstaff describes it thusly:

“Unlike stereotypical folk horror, there is no great beast or god lurking just out of view, there is only the horror of the self—something that may devour you or perhaps something to be harnessed.”

The Carterhaugh School describes it even further, illuminating the way that Welch meshes the mystical with the modern:

“The other thing that we think Welch does well in her exploration of folk horror is that, even though she’s speaking from the insider perspective on aspects of things like folk belief, religion, and understanding, she doesn’t shy away from modernity in a reductive way. She’s well aware in these songs that things like cell phones and tv shows exist – something that often bugs us about a lot of folk horror. Like, are you really saying that the people in these out of the way English villages have never taken an Uber in 2025, never watched a stupid TV sitcom, indeed that they shun anything that reeks of modernity in favor of venerating the old ways? Come on!”

Bickerstaff summarizes the conflation of folk-horror and modernity in her piece as well:

“Though Everybody Scream is a striking example of folk horror’s modern revival, the source of its ‘horror’ is deliberately elusive. And that, perhaps, is precisely the point: the album demonstrates how the genre’s aesthetics and rituals are being reshaped to reflect the anxieties of the twenty-first century.”

Everybody Scream is a fascinating, exhilarating album, as evidenced above. (I strongly encourage you to read through both pieces linked above, as they’re incredibly illuminating of how deep this album is!)

And we’ve not even talked about the concert yet!

Extraordinary, Normal, All At The Same Time

The concert opens with a full performance of “Everybody Scream”, the titular song from the album. On a long catwalk, four dancers – the ‘Witch Choir’ – in flowing black dresses go through the full range of possessed motion, flailing, bending, and twisting in unnatural directions, manic glee imprinted on their faces. Florence ascends from below the far end of the catwalk, facing them, the High Priestess of this particular coven.

Florence onstage in a red dress facing the Witch Choir

As the song flows, the dancers writhe and twist onstage, their movements a blend of joy and horror. The influence of works like The Witch and Midsommar ring out with every visceral twist. The Witch Choir are one of the most captivating elements of the entire concert. While they are performing what might be termed “traditional horror dancing” (boy, that’s a concept) with their thrashing limbs and involuntary movement, their work actually draws in the viewer. They are as much inciters as they are members of the choir, extending invitations to the audience: come play with us. This is reflective of the inclusive nature of the album itself, represented in full force onstage.

And through it all, Welch remains the fixture and focal point, at times dancing and sprinting back and forth across the catwalk, at other times rooted and belting to the high heavens. After sixteen years of performing, Welch knows how to control a room the size of an arena. Her voice soars and dips, whispers and shrieks. It is all but impossible to turn away, her spell is that strong.

The emotional peak of the evening comes during the performance of “You Can Have It All”, a wrenching cry to the heavens about the overwhelming expectations of women in modern life. Welch sets the tone by emphasizing how difficult it is for her to sing this song and then exorcises every demon in the room. It’s impossible not to be moved by the end of the first verse alone:

I sit in the salt water, call in a vision of my daughter
Light a candle, place my grief upon the altar
Bird in my hands, a flower, a song
I used to think I knew what sadness was
I was wrong

Again, Welch uses the trappings of folk-horror to inject her work with new meaning, to better understand what has happened to her, to translate that to her audience. Bickerstaff further illuminates this in her piece:


“The horror is not in the banshee cry itself but the terrible reason behind it—a reason all too familiar to scores of women both today and across history. The unexpected loss of a child, the loss of self, of a future, a uniquely feminine horror that Welch refuses to move past silently. At once deeply personal and tragically communal, this is grief framed in testament to tradition. The ragged ‘grief ritual’ this song embodies speaks to the unexpected community found in loss and the desperate collective voice that emerges.”

The Witch Choir provides support in more ways than just backup dancing and singing. After the climax of the song, Welch immediately runs to the choir for a full-on group embrace, drawing comfort from her coven. These are trying times, but there is support in all instances. We’re all in this together. At other times during the show, the choir gathers around her as if in a summoning circle as Welch conjures spectacle and images for all attendees.

Florence singing in a red dress, while the four dancers sit around her in white dresses

Before these concerts, I was only marginally aware of the full depth of the works of Florence + the Machine. After witnessing the magic and the mystery, consider me a full-on convert. Even beyond everything described above, it’s a hell of a performance, and one absolutely worth seeking out when it comes to a city near you.

The Florence + the Machine ‘Everybody Scream’ world tour continues through August. Seek out tickets at the band’s website.

Postscript: My wife sent me the below post from Threads, and reader, I am the dude in this post.

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