Extra, Extra, Read All About It: Malcolm Todd @ Pitchfork

If you aren’t a Malcolm Todd fan when you walk into a concert of his, you’ll definitely become one by the time you walk out. 

As early as 5pm, you could spot teens bearing “I <3 Malcolm Todd” t-shirts and parading around the Bastille area, where Café de la Danse resides tucked into an alley. Pitchfork Music Festival day three served as Malcolm Todd’s first Parisian performance and one of the last dates of our ‘Wholesome Rockstar’s’ European leg. I was a casual listener surrounded by friends who were determined to get a good view in the 500-person venue, a mere tourist amid die-hard fans, so after a bit of patience and five hours – kept entertained by performances from Tommy Barlow and Annahstasia – we ended up with him towering over us. 

At 9:40pm, the lights dimmed, triggering the customary “Popopopo” (sung in the tune of the White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army”) that always echoes through French audiences, and soon enough, the first chords of “Harry Styles” washed over the crowd. It was endearing to hear the subtle change from the original “I wasn’t picked for Flog Gnaw” to “I was picked for Flog Gnaw” in anticipation of his performance at the LA-based music festival the following week. 

In under an hour, Malcolm played 12 songs – including the nostalgic iCarly theme song – intertwining titles from across his entire discography. But Todd’s the kind of performer that even if you weren’t to know any of his songs, you’d still be guaranteed a good time: by the second chorus, you’re singing the song back to him, the energy that he exudes is one of familiarity with the stage, and everyone around you is feeling the music. 

In a time where I feel the need to be constantly stimulated, where music has blended into my landscape, and despite prepping myself by listening to whatever “Malcolm Todd 2025 Setlist” playlist I could find on Spotify, it was the first time I was truly registering his lyrics. And in came the realisation of the universality of the experience that is being in your twenties, where “I don’t know where to go, so I’ll lay here instead / With my symptoms, symptoms of sorrow and dread / They all said it would fade, but again and again” held more weight than it ever had. Or the growing appreciation of “Cheer Me On” after the concert had already passed, and the full circle moment of finishing off with “Roommates,” aka the first song of his I had ever heard, courtesy of my best friend. 

Of course, the concert wasn’t only filled with my introspection. Thinking that I had left the days of standing in the pit, of being elbowed and sweaty, behind me, I remembered why I had always insisted on purchasing floor seats to begin with. The crowd swayed to the beat of “Earrings,” tattling its iconic refrain, and roaring with how it seeped into “4Me 4Me” in a way that tickled the ears. We danced as Malcolm did during “Bleed,” as his passion infused the floor. His control of the crowd was done with such ease, and the synergy between him and his band contributed to the exhilarating atmosphere. 

‍There’s no doubt that Malcolm Todd excels at what he does; beyond good songwriting and instrumentals, he knows how to showcase his talent. Here’s to hoping he comes back to Paris soon, by then I’ll be a seasoned listener. 

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