Evanescence | PICA Melbourne
I had the privilege of seeing Evanescence light up PICA on November 7th. From the moment I arrived, it felt like stepping into something special. We got there at 6:30pm for a 7pm opening, and the line already stretched forever down the street. Fans of every age were waiting. Fans of all ages were waiting, from those who discovered Evanescence years ago to others who had grown up hearing their music through their parents. Some families stood together, sharing the band across generations like a piece of their youth that never faded.
It is not every day you get to see a band of this magnitude in such an intimate venue. The show was originally booked at 170 Russell and sold out in minutes. Its move to PICA only heightened the excitement, with tickets vanishing again in a flash. When the doors finally opened, fans rushed inside, racing to the barricade for a spot a few metres from the stage. The air buzzed with anticipation. Everyone there knew they were about to witness something unforgettable.
At 8pm, the lights dimmed and Evanescence took the stage to a roar. They opened with Afterlife, the powerful new track from the Netflix animated series Devil May Cry. The sound was flawless and had the crowd cheering as if it were already a fan favourite. Without pause, they tore into What You Want and then Going Under. Each song hit with electric energy. Hands reached into the air, voices echoed across the walls, and the past collided with the present in a wave of sound.
Midway through the set, a piano was rolled out, and Amy Lee took a seat behind it. In a venue this close, every exchange felt personal. She smiled, visibly moved by the atmosphere, and spoke with warm, humble gratitude. Before playing Lost in Paradise, she grinned and asked, “Are you going to the show tomorrow night? We’re playing with Metallica.” The cheers rolled in. “That’s pretty good! I’m pretty stoked on it,” she laughed, before her tone shifted. “But we need release, like this can give us. Only a full set with our people can give us the release that we need. So, we did our best to throw in some songs that we haven’t done a million times. Not that we come here that often anyway. It’s a very special treat in the first place.”
Then came Lost in Paradise, stripped back and stunning. Her voice glided through each note as the crowd sang quietly in return. It felt like time froze. The band returned for Lithium, greeted with another wall of sound. Next came Fight Like a Girl, beginning with Amy alone at the keys before the rest of the band joined in. The piano was rolled off stage as the song soared.
They followed with a blistering Take Cover. At its climax, Amy held a final note that made jaws drop. It was one of those moments that made you stop and realise just how rare it is to witness that kind of talent live.
At one point, Amy paused and looked out across the venue. She called the space a sanctuary, a place where the world’s noise and negativity could not reach us. The outside world faded, replaced by the noise that mattered: voices singing, cheering, connecting. Her words were sincere and grounded, spoken not like a rock icon but like someone grateful just to share the room. Which then moved into Use My Voice, a track that carried the weight of her words. The chorus hit harder. The crowd sang the ad-libbed “Woah’s” in unison, turning the song into something greater than itself. The energy was emotional and defiant.
Before My Immortal, Amy stepped forward again. “Remember times that we've come here over the years, and the beautiful, beautiful memories that we have shared. Thank you for growing up with me.” The crowd cheered with the kind of joy only nostalgia can stir. “For old times,” she added, “sing it together.” The piano began and the room lit up with emotion. Her voice was raw and delicate, and thousands of voices sang every word with her. Halfway through, she smiled and called out, “Let me see your lights! Come on, hold your phones up.” In an instant, the venue glowed. Phone lights and lighters shimmered from the barricade to the very back, swaying in time as voices soared in harmony. It was breathtaking.
To close the night, the band launched into Bring Me to Life. The opening riff sent the crowd into a frenzy. The entire venue erupted, every lyric sung loud and clear. Midway through, Amy held a powerful, drawn-out note, then urged the crowd to clap along. The energy surged again. As the final chorus rang out, the band gave everything they had. Even after the last line, they kept playing. The drummer pounded, the guitars howled. It was a thunderous, triumphant finish.
Amy stepped forward, smiling wide, and raised her arms. “We love you, Melbourne! Thank you! We’ll see you soon. Be good to each other. Good night!” she called. The applause didn’t stop. The band gathered, bowed, and tossed picks and drumsticks into the crowd. The cheers lingered long after they walked offstage.
As the lights came up and people began to leave, something lingered in the air. A warmth that was hard to describe. Seeing Evanescence in a venue like PICA felt almost sacred, a reminder of why music stays with us long after the final note fades. It bridges generations, connects strangers, and fills a room with something that words can never fully capture.
Even after twenty years, Evanescence still have the power to move people to tears, raise them to their feet, and leave them in awe. That night in Melbourne was more than a concert. It was something unforgettable. Something that will live in hearts for years to come.