Lzzy Hale: Fronting a Rock Band in 2026 and Refusing to Shrink
Halestorm's vocalist and guitarist on arena stages, vocal warm-ups, and why she'll never tone down the high notes to make anyone comfortable.
You've said you refuse to 'shrink' on stage. What does that mean in practice?
It means I take up the whole stage. I was told early on — by people who meant well, mostly — to dial it back, to not be too loud, too much, too aggressive. And I tried, for about five minutes, and it felt like putting a muzzle on. Now I walk out and I claim every inch. If the crowd came to see a rock show, they're getting a rock show, not a polite one.
Your vocal range is brutal to maintain on tour. What's the routine?
I warm up for forty-five minutes before I even think about singing a full song. Steam, scales, then I work the break in my voice — that spot where chest and head voice meet — because that's where most singers blow out. I don't drink anything ice cold on show days, and I sleep with a humidifier running. It's not glamorous, but if you want to still be screaming at fifty, you treat the instrument like an athlete treats their knees.
Halestorm plays everything from clubs to arenas. Does the room change how you sing?
Totally. In a club, you can feel the crowd breathing — you can whisper and they'll hear it. In an arena, a whisper is lost, so you lean into the power and let the PA do the intimacy work. But the emotion has to be the same in both. If you only bring it when the room is big, the small rooms will expose you.
What's the best piece of advice another rocker ever gave you?
Joan Jett told me once: 'They're going to tell you rock is dead every single year. Keep playing anyway.' She was right. They've been writing rock's obituary since the '70s, and we're all still here filling rooms. The genre doesn't need permission to exist.