Ado, the Japanese pop artist who broke through in 2020 with the rebel anthem “Usseewa,” famously does not show her face. But while she appeared only in silhouette at her first concert at the enormous Tokyo Dome on November 11, part of a dome tour titled Yodaka, she revealed a different side that was no less fascinating to see.
While she may hide her face, Ado has always projected a fierce image. Her single “Usseewa” was a reasoned, resolute rejection of the rules and requirements of society, served with a sarcastic snarl. And as her powers as a performer have grown, so too has her confidence in the studio. She has fearlessly tackled a wide range of genres, smushing kayokyoku, rock, Vocaloid, city pop, punk, and grunge together into one deliciously pulpy mash. And the best part is that her voice can keep up with all of it: She’s able to switch from whisper to falsetto to bloodcurdling scream in an instant, displaying a true vocal mastery that is all her own.
The first time I saw Ado live, in August 2023 at the Nippon Budokan, she announced from the stage that her ambitions were to tour the world, perform at a global music festival, and win a Grammy. Her confidence bled through from the songs and into her on-stage persona.
And yet, after performing around 20 songs and an encore at her Tokyo Dome show this week, right before the very final song, Ado opened up. Still in silhouette, she addressed the crowd to speak her heart.
Ado in concert at Tokyo Dome (©Viola Kam (V’z Twinkle))
From Her Heart
“I wasn’t sure how to perform at a dome venue,” she said.
“Recently, I’ve been thinking about the reasons why I started singing. I should know this, and yet I don’t. As Ado, I’ve toured the world and grown so much. But as myself, as a person, I’m no different than anyone else. I’m useless; I often cry in my closet. I wonder why Ado became so famous and beloved by so many people, and yet I can’t change myself. [And] I cry on my birthdays. It hurts to feel this way. Even though I am Ado, I see Ado growing further from me, and although I have no regrets, I don’t know which parts of Ado are me.”
Around this point, Ado started to cry. This was clearly not a scripted speech but a genuine confessional, filled with repetition and rambling thoughts – and all the more real for it. I’ve often seen artists offer their audience platitudes about the power of just being yourself or show sincere (or insincere) gratitude for their fans, but this felt different. I half expected Ado to announce that she was quitting music, or that she would show her face going forward, as a way to connect with her own success.
But instead, she continued for several more minutes, talking about her complexes and her lack of self-esteem, before concluding, “I’m not perfect, and I never will be. But that’s part of me too. … I’ll keep moving forward, bad parts and all. I want people to know more about the real me. … I’ll keep working on myself, and I hope you’ll continue to support me. Performing here for all of you has made me so happy. As Ado and as myself, I’ll continue to stand on stage and sing. Thank you!”
Finally, A Human Connection
I have to say, for me, this speech overrode the (excellent) performance she had just given. You see, I’ve long felt a disconnect with Ado and the way she shields her identity. While her songs are sometimes emotional ballads and sometimes violent blushes of anarchy, it’s hard to feel a human connection with someone who hides their face.
Ado at Tokyo Dome (©Viola Kam (V’z Twinkle))
And certainly at Tokyo Dome, from my seat right at the back of the room, the performers so small in the distance you could barely tell them from ants, there was a real danger of feeling alienated. (A reminder of why I prefer smaller, more intimate venues.) So when she finally made this very human confession, her tears rolling into the darkness, the human connection that was missing throughout the previous hour or two was made.
From an artist whose image is so heavily groomed, it was a truly unexpected, raw, and visceral moment that I may never forget.
Another Side of Ado
But let’s rewind a couple of hours and delve into the show itself. We actually got to see yet another side of Ado, as the opening act, Phantom Siita, are a new “retro-horror” idol group produced by Ado herself. As the concept suggests, Phantom Siita played songs based on 1960s and ’70s kayokyoku melodies, but with modern lyrics based on B-movie horror schlock, and dance performances to match.
Unlike Ado, they do show their faces, and their cheeky glares are part of their charm. Their short set was as much performance theatre as it was a concert, and it was wonderful.
Ado at Tokyo Dome on November 11, 2025 (©Mari Kinoshita）
And then on came Ado. Her concerts have always been a marvel of stagecraft, using lighting and video to mask her identity in creative ways and to offer a full sensory experience. And her Tokyo Dome show was no exception. She kicked off with “Odo,” a dancefloor smash with old-school Ibiza club vibes, backed by an intense light show, pyrotechnics, and of course Ado’s incredible voice – acrobatic, forceful, cool, angry, playful, and utterly unique.
Ado stood behind a semi-transparent video screen on a riser far above the stage. Her four bandmates played below, surrounded by yet more screens that plunged the audience into a new universe for every song. Ado is an expressive dancer, even in shadow, and her flowing dress, flared sleeves, and long ponytail cut a kinetic outline to follow. Interestingly, appearing in silhouette behind a screen meant that Ado only really existed when the visuals were on. Between the songs, when the lights dipped, she vanished entirely, just like her beloved virtual idol Hatsune Miku.
Ado in concert (©Viola Kam (V’z Twinkle))
The Show Itself
Next up was “Show’,” and the video screens were filled with imagery of dangerous-looking restricted areas, warning signs, and coffins. But they also had cute animated characters dancing in front of retro CRT TVs – a real mishmash. For the more straightforward rock song “Rebellion,” the screens flashed with provocative phrases like “This is the time of rebellion”.
Meanwhile, on “Backlight,” her song from the animated movie One Piece Film Red, the light show invaded Ado’s cage itself, with pyrotechnics firing behind her as the bass groove of the verse led into the heavy rock chorus.
She then performed “I’m Invincible,” a rousingly positive song from someone who that night existed mostly in negative space. Recent single “Magic,” meanwhile, had Las Vegas dinner show vibes, with its rolling funk baseline, disco beat, and trumpet stabs enhanced by a neon cityscape on the screens, with magic cards and dice floating through the heavens.
(©Viola Kam (V’z Twinkle))
Tokyo Dome is far too civil and sanitized a venue for a song like “Usseewa.” But that didn’t stop Ado and her band from bringing a riot of sound, with her raw screeches powering the chorus of this song of anti-authority rebellion – a song that was accused of subverting a generation when it blew up in 2020. By the end, her screams became primal, and the audience responded in kind with endless cheers and applause.
This was followed by “RuLe,” one of my favourites – a mad rock song with goofy keyboards, and a joyous ode to breaking all the rules.
Ready for a New Release
And then! A brand new unreleased song, titled “AiAiA.” The song began with lyrics about wanting to be loved, and featured a kind of Vaudevillian sensibility, a modern take on old-time jazz with plinky-plonky piano and baseball park organ refrains. Meanwhile, the screens transformed the stage into a cabaret stage, complete with red drape curtains.
Ado loves to sing covers, and tonight was no exception. But while she usually picks classic J-pop hits or Vocaloid tunes, this time she also sang a Western song: “Chandelier” by Sia. With her incredible vocal range, she really belted out the chorus, collapsing to her knees as she raised the domed roof. Hearing Ado elevate an already excellent song like this made me wish I could go to karaoke with her.
Ado at Tokyo Dome (©Viola Kam (V’z Twinkle))
During the encore – shortly before she opened her heart – Ado sang three songs while suspended in mid-air in a hot-air balloon shaped like a cloud with a smiley face and a piece of maguro sushi on its head. Her lofty ride was led around the vast venue, and, standing in a tiny narrow basket under her cloud, she sang songs like “Ashura-chan,” her theme song from the TV show Doctor-X: Surgeon Michiko Daimon. Misremembering some of the lyrics from her floating basket, she giggled, “Oh, I messed up!”, creating a situation of levity in both senses of the word.
Stretching In New Directions
After making her impassioned monologue and drying her tears, Ado played just one last number: “KokoroToIuNaNoFukakai,” a powerful song that fittingly is about struggling to deal with emotions and the pain they can bring. No longer in her screen-covered cage or floating in a hot-air balloon, for this last song Ado stood with her band on the stage for a naturalistic performance that felt all the weightier now that we knew about the hardships she faces.
As Ado grows in fame, she will surely be stretched in ever more directions, facing higher stakes and greater stress. At least this show seemed to be cathartic for her. I know that I left feeling more emotionally connected to this one-of-a-kind artist than when I arrived. A truly spectacular show in every way.
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Author: Daniel Robson
Daniel Robson is the chief editor of videogame news site IGN Japan. Read his series Gamer’s World on JAPAN Forward, and find him on X (formerly Twitter).
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