Felicia arrived at Liseberg’s main stage on a sunny June afternoon with a solo catalogue just about big enough for a headline set, and a stage presence more than large enough to distract from the gaps in it.
The mask-clad Eurovision finalist behind “My System”, formerly of Fröken Snusk fame, spent the afternoon proving that personality can go a long way when the setlist can’t quite carry the same weight.
Felicia concert review: plenty of charm, not quite enough songs
Just a year ago, Felicia Eriksson found herself at the centre of one of the Swedish music industry’s most talked-about break-ups. After emerging from the shadow of the hugely successful Fröken Snusk persona, whose name roughly translates as “Miss Filth”, she launched a solo career under her own name and quickly set about proving there was life beyond epadunk. Since then, she has traded tractor-fuelled party anthems for polished electronic pop, released singles such as “Black Widow”, built her catalogue with the My System EP, and, perhaps most remarkably of all, won Melodifestivalen 2026 before representing Sweden at the Eurovision Song Contest with “My System”.
Musically, Felicia now occupies a space somewhere between contemporary Scandinavian dance-pop, Eurodance revivalism and radio-friendly electronic pop. Her Eurovision hit “My System” drew comparisons to early-2000s dance classics and helped establish a clearer identity distinct from the deliberately provocative world of Fröken Snusk.
With that in mind, curiosity was high ahead of her appearance on Liseberg’s main stage Stora Scenen on 7 June. Not because anyone doubted her ability to entertain, but because her solo career is still very much in its infancy. With only a modest catalogue available, one question lingered before the show: how exactly do you stretch a full headline set out of a handful of singles?
As it turned out, the answer was: quite creatively.
Running on adrenaline
From the moment she stepped onto the stage, Felicia radiated enthusiasm. On a sunny Sunday afternoon in Gothenburg, she appeared genuinely thrilled to be there and wasted little time telling the audience how much playing Liseberg meant to her. She even revealed that she had been forced to sprint to the stage after squeezing in a ride on Helix moments before showtime.
That bubbly personality became one of the concert’s defining features. Between songs, there was plenty of banter, audience interaction and storytelling. In fact, there was so much talking that it occasionally felt like the setlist was being asked to carry a heavier workload than it was designed for.
Before the concert, I jokingly wondered what would be used to fill the running time. Covers? Stand-up comedy? Traditional clog dancing? While none of those quite materialised, the final result was not entirely far removed from the premise. Old Fröken Snusk songs were conspicuously absent, which was hardly surprising. That chapter appears firmly closed, and revisiting it now would likely feel as appealing as voluntarily stepping back into a particularly messy divorce.
Finding ways to fill the time
Instead, the set was padded out through various means. T-shirts were thrown into the crowd. There were lengthy audience interactions. At one point, Felicia performed “Känn en doft av kärleken”, the Swedish version of Elton John’s “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from The Lion King.
The segment never quite took off. Before starting, Felicia jokingly explained that nobody knows the second verse anyway, so she would only perform the first. After finishing, a young voice from the audience appeared less than impressed. “Wasn’t it good?” Felicia asked with a laugh, before following up with, “Was the original better?” It was a charming exchange and another example of her willingness to laugh at herself, even if the performance itself felt more like an impromptu singalong than an essential part of the set.
Strangely enough, the song itself remains remarkably resilient across genres. Only last autumn, Finnish power metal outfit Battle Beast delivered their own live interpretation.
Not the costume change people may have hoped for
The four dancers also received a spotlight moment of their own while Felicia disappeared backstage for a costume change. The switch itself was fairly subtle, with the black leather look simply reimagined in glittering silver, and perhaps not enough to justify the dramatic pause.
One visual detail from Eurovision that did not survive the transition to Liseberg was the striking switch from face mask to customised sunglasses. Here, the mask remained throughout the entire performance. While it naturally obscured some facial expressions, it did little to hide her personality. Her excitement and warmth consistently shone through, especially whenever she engaged with the audience.
Dancing that didn’t know its audience: the snusk factor lives on
While Felicia’s solo material is noticeably less obsessed with innuendo than the music associated with Fröken Snusk, traces of that world remain. On this occasion, however, the responsibility largely fell on the dancers.
Their choreography frequently oscillated between energetic dance routines and something that looked suspiciously like a collective cry for professional counselling. When they were not bouncing around the stage, they were grabbing their ding-dongs, striking exaggerated poses, lifting Felicia into the air and thrusting their groins against her, simulating movements that felt considerably more suited to a late-night nightclub (or the bedroom) than a family attraction packed with children on a Sunday afternoon.
The overall presentation occasionally resembled a compromise between a family-friendly dance show and a heavily sanitised group-sex simulation. Neither side entirely won the argument.
Their opening costumes did little to modernise matters. Dressed in oversized white shirts, ties and comically baggy trousers, they evoked memories of the suited dancers surrounding Carola during “Fångad av en stormvind”, Sweden’s 1991 Eurovision winner. Rather than complementing the sleek electronic production and Eurovision-inspired aesthetics, the dancers often felt like a nostalgic throwback to some of the cheesiest corners of the early 1990s.
Personally, I could have managed without the endless dry-humping and gyrating sidekicks. I understand the need to fill the stage, but surely there must be alternatives. Felicia told us how much she loves Disney after performing the Lion King theme, so perhaps the Seven Dwarfs could have been drafted in instead. They would at least have felt more at home in a family amusement park.
More importantly, the choreography felt oddly mismatched with the audience. Fröken Snusk’s original fanbase largely consisted of teenage boys drawn to the project’s deliberately provocative image and epadunk antics. Felicia’s current audience appears far broader and noticeably younger, with plenty of children and teenage girls gathered in front of the stage at Liseberg. Given those circumstances, a less sexually charged presentation might have been a better fit for a Sunday afternoon in a family amusement park.
New songs and familiar comparisons
The musical portion of the evening began strongly with the unreleased “Popstar”, followed by 2025 debut single “Black Widow” and another new track titled “Hulk”. From there, Felicia worked her way through most of her still-limited catalogue, drawing heavily from this year’s My System EP.
One of the evening’s funniest moments arrived roughly half an hour into the set. Felicia announced that she was about to perform her Eurovision song. The audience naturally expected “My System”.
Instead, the opening notes of Cascada’s “Everytime We Touch” rang out.
Given how frequently listeners have compared the two songs, the joke landed perfectly. It demonstrated both a healthy sense of humour and an admirable degree of self-awareness. Rather than avoiding the comparison, she leaned directly into it and earned one of the loudest reactions of the afternoon.
A bright-daylight finale
Eventually, “My System” arrived as the grand finale everyone had been waiting for. Unsurprisingly, it became the highlight of the concert. Yet it was difficult not to imagine how much bigger the song might have felt after dark. At Eurovision and Melodifestivalen, lasers and dramatic lighting elevated the performance considerably. Here, it unfolded at twenty to five on a bright June afternoon beneath blazing sunshine.
At 4:45 pm, Felicia left the stage. The encore turned out to be an extended outro of “My System”, which continued pumping through the speakers for several minutes before an abrupt vinyl-stopping sound effect cut everything short. Felicia then announced, with delightfully understated timing, “Now we have to go”, before disappearing for good alongside her dancers.
Moments later, a staff member informed the crowd that Felicia would be signing merchandise nearby.
Verdict
In many ways, that ending perfectly summed up the show.
The setlist felt thin. The pacing often felt stretched. The overall production occasionally felt somewhat unfocused, at times drifting into sheer silliness. Yet despite all of that, it remained difficult not to leave with a smile.
Because while the concert may have been diluted, unfocused and occasionally chaotic, nobody could accuse Felicia of holding anything back. Throughout fifty sun-soaked minutes at Liseberg, she gave the audience exactly what she currently does best: herself.
Setlist
- Popstar
- Black Widow
- Hulk
- Hard
- Sugar High
- Me Without You
- Känn en doft av kärleken Swedish version of Elton John’s “Can You Feel the Love Tonight”
- Everytime We Touch Cascada cover
- Serve
- My System
This show was shot with
Camera bodies
- Sony a7 IIIClose-ups, long-range shots
- Sony a7R IIWide-angle shots
Camera lenses
- Samyang 35-150mm f2–2.8Close-ups, long-range shots
- Tamron 16-30mm f2.8Wide-angle shots
Concert photo gallery
