Cyndi Lauper is proving that even in her seventh decade, she’s still got the same fire that made her a musical force over forty years ago. With her Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Farewell Tour entering its final phase, Lauper continues to deliver on all fronts—musically, emotionally, and even politically. She’s been on the road for nine months now, but somehow the energy hasn’t waned. If anything, it’s intensified. In that time, she’s not only launched a major international tour, but also set the premiere date for her long-awaited “Working Girl” musical, finally landing in October. Add to that her induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame this fall, and it’s clear Lauper’s not going quietly into any kind of retirement.

What makes this farewell feel different from so many others is that it isn’t steeped in finality or nostalgia. Instead, it feels more like a victory lap from someone who’s been authentically herself all along, refusing to compromise even as the industry changed around her. She’s spent decades pushing for LGBTQ+ rights, advocating for women, and using her platform to raise awareness about causes close to her heart. During this tour alone, she’s raised $200,000 for the Girls Just Want to Have Fundamental Rights Fund through fan donations. That kind of passion, even on the brink of stepping away from touring, speaks volumes about the woman behind the iconic voice and neon-colored wigs.

On July 24 at Jiffy Lube Live in Bristow, Virginia, Lauper gave fans a reminder of why she’s endured. She doesn’t rely on smoke and mirrors or calculated marketing gimmicks. Instead, she walks onstage with the same theatricality and truth that defined her in the early ’80s, blending honesty, humor, and raw talent. Backed by a tight five-piece band, including drummer Sterling Campbell and percussionist Mona Tavakoli, Lauper ran through a setlist that wasn’t afraid to take chances. Sure, the hits were there—“True Colors,” “Change of Heart,” “She Bop”—but so were the deep cuts like “Who Let in the Rain” and “Shine,” the latter shimmering with her signature emotional resonance.

From the first moment she appeared, Lauper’s presence was undeniable. She strutted out in one of her many extravagant outfits, this time flanked by a cascade of polka dots, ruffled trains, and a rotating carousel of colored wigs, going from blue to bright yellow. She’s not a traditional dancer, and never has been—her performances have always been more about energy than choreography. But there’s something captivating in her movement, whether it’s a wild arm wave or a hip twist that’s more instinctive than rehearsed. It’s part of what makes her so watchable. She doesn’t perform for perfection; she performs for connection.

What really set the show apart wasn’t just the music, though that was stellar. It was the way Lauper told her story in between songs. She shared memories of her youth, growing up in Queens, feeling like an outcast, and slowly finding her way through music. At one point, she paused to remind the crowd that every person has agency over their own life. “This is one chapter in your life. You get to write the other chapters… you write the book,” she told the audience, her New York accent cutting through with conviction. It wasn’t just a motivational speech; it was a hard-earned truth from someone who’s lived it.

These moments were deeply personal, but Lauper knows how to bring an arena-sized crowd into her world. One of the night’s most memorable performances came with “Sally’s Pigeons,” a haunting, delicate song she introduced by telling a story about a neighbor who had inspired it. She stood alone under a spotlight, her face magnified on giant screens behind her, every line etched with feeling as she sang the first verse a capella. The silence that swept through the amphitheater was profound. In that moment, it wasn’t about pop stardom or legacy—it was about human connection.

Her ability to mix emotional depth with irreverent fun is what makes her shows so layered. She can perform Roy Orbison’s “I Drove All Night” with such longing that it feels like a confession, then moments later romp through “The Goonies ‘R Good Enough” like she’s on a sugar rush. The show oscillates between joy and sorrow, often within the same breath. She covers Gene Pitney’s “I’m Gonna Be Strong” like a woman possessed, her voice soaring to dramatic highs that many singers half her age wouldn’t dare attempt. And then she brings the crowd back into the moment with a playful, percussive skip through “Iko Iko,” laughing and engaging with her band and backup singers like she’s hosting a block party.

There’s also something deeply comforting about how Lauper refuses to tidy herself up for the sake of elegance or showbiz polish. She’s messy, loud, unpredictable—and that’s exactly what fans love. She leans into her kooky side, embracing her inner Carole Lombard or Lucille Ball, throwing in ad-libs and jokes with zero filter. That’s always been part of her charm. She’s not above the crowd—she’s one of them, just in fancier clothes and with a microphone.

One of the night’s most moving moments came during “Time After Time,” a song that feels as timeless as ever. She asked the audience to raise their phones and create what she called a “community of light,” explaining, “in case it gets really dark.” It wasn’t just about stage theatrics—it was a reminder that we’re all here together, trying to make sense of a chaotic world. Her voice, tender and piercing, made the moment feel sacred.

The show closed, naturally, with “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” the song that catapulted her into superstardom and still brings down the house. She brought out tour opener Jake Wesley Rogers for a final burst of energy, the two of them trading lines on “Money Changes Everything” like dueling rebels. At one point, they collapsed theatrically onto the stage floor, belting lyrics and pounding their fists like they were in some punk rock opera. It was pure theater, and the crowd loved it.

This tour isn’t just a retrospective—it’s a reminder of everything Lauper has brought to the table over the years. The music, yes. But also the fight, the humor, the heart. She’s never just been a singer. She’s been an activist, a trailblazer, and a woman who never apologized for taking up space in a world that often told her to shrink.

Her voice, still as sharp and versatile as ever, remains one of the most distinctive in music. She doesn’t rely on Auto-Tune or backing tracks. She sings with guts, with grit, with all the wear and tear of a life lived out loud. And the audience feels every note. There’s no illusion, no smoke and mirrors—just Lauper, a mic, and a lifetime of stories to tell.

As the tour winds down with two closing shows at the Hollywood Bowl in late August, there’s a feeling of gratitude in the air. Fans know they’re witnessing the end of an era—not because Lauper’s fading, but because she’s choosing to step away while still at the top of her game. She’s not retreating from music, just from the grind of touring. And with her long-delayed “Working Girl” musical set to finally premiere this fall, she’s already onto the next chapter.

Cyndi Lauper has never followed the script, and she’s certainly not starting now. Her farewell tour is anything but sad. It’s defiant, joyful, messy, and honest—just like the woman at the center of it all. In a music industry that often rewards conformity and punishes individuality, Lauper has always stood out simply by refusing to be anything other than herself. She’s shown the world how to be fearless, how to be fun, and how to turn pain into poetry. And even as she leaves the road behind, one thing remains clear: Cyndi Lauper’s story is far from over. She’s just turning the page.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *