Amy Lee Ignites 2026: Evanescence Plots Fiery European Comeback With Poppy and K.Flay

Mia Reynolds, 12/2/2025Amy Lee and Evanescence are set to embark on an electrifying 2026 European tour alongside Poppy, K.Flay, and Nova Twins. Emphasizing growth and collaboration, the tour intertwines nostalgia with new music and meaningful charitable initiatives, inviting fans not just to witness, but to participate in a transformative experience.

It’s strange to think 2022 wasn’t all that long ago, yet the world seems determined to stretch time at every turn. The band’s previous UK appearance is now tucked away like a worn photograph, but, as of 2026, Evanescence doesn’t just revisit the past—they kick down the door. When word landed this spring that Amy Lee and company would return for a robust European run, something clicked. Perhaps that’s no accident. Few acts wear transformation as well as this one, and Lee herself hinted at the glow-up, calling 2025 “so inspiring in so many ways.” New music, iconic gigs, creative partnerships—none of it feels superfluous. It’s the groundwork for a homecoming threaded with fresh ambition.

Now, when artists wax poetic about bringing “fire, energy and inspiration,” skepticism is often warranted. Yet with Evanescence, it barely feels like a tagline. “Fire” in this case is both promise and challenge—the kind you half-expect to see reflected in stage lights and, who knows, maybe even in the setlist.

Of course, a tour is only as bold as the company it keeps. Instead of boilerplate support acts, the bill reads almost like a curated festival within the tour—a nod to community rather than hierarchy. Where Poppy joins, expect a whirl of styles: her avant-garde pop deftly tiptoes the line between intimacy and subversion, making her something of a spiritual twin to Lee’s own penchant for the dramatic. In the UK, K.Flay is along for the ride; her mix of sharp rhyme and raw vulnerability is less a contrast and more a creative friction—one that suits arenas as much as bedrooms. For the mainland crowds, Nova Twins bring in their kinetic punk spirit, all jumping basslines and snarling energy, ready to set the tone before Evanescence takes over.

Not just a lineup, but a statement. Maybe even a gentle pushback against the tired notion of female-fronted acts as a genre rather than a force. Amy Lee seems to agree, calling back to collaborations with these very artists—K.Flay’s bruising appearance on “Fight Like A Girl,” the triple-threat vocal on “End Of You” involving Poppy and Spiritbox’s Courtney LaPlante, and that fierce moment with Halsey last summer (“Hand That Feeds,” which turned heads and, briefly, the internet). These partnerships aren’t just musical—they’re moments of handoff, torch-bearers refusing to let the light dim.

Tucked into all this is a sense that these shows will swell with more than riffs and gothic drama. Yes, the venues themselves—Leeds’ First Direct Bank Arena, Manchester’s Co-op Live, the mighty O2 in London (arguably a temple for anthems)—they’re chapter headings in rock history. What seems different in 2026 is the undercurrent: a crowd, some who’ve clung to Lee’s voice since “Bring Me To Life” soundtracked adolescent gloom and others discovering Evanescence via a friend’s playlist, will all be standing shoulder to shoulder in newly rebuilt cities. Paris, Berlin, Barcelona—places that have lived a lot over the past few years—are more than dots on a tour map. They’re context.

Perhaps most noteworthy, besides the songs, are the charitable efforts now woven directly into ticket sales. Evanescence’s partnership with PLUS1, funneling a cut of every ticket price into humanitarian and medical causes, is a clear signal—a move well suited to this era where artists are expected to lead with heart, not just presence. Concert landscapes are evolving. Acts who once sang about healing are now finding tangible ways to act on it.

There’s a particular richness to this moment, especially for those who kept the faith—the audience members whose memories are tattooed with old piano ballads and surging choruses. Tours like this aren’t simply about nostalgia; they’re a reminder that growth doesn’t mean forgetting where you started. All those teenage anthems and heartbreak salves are still in the set, but now they share space with songs forged in recent fires. Evanescence isn’t just playing catch-up with the past; the band is stretching into what's possible, dragging fans (willingly, most would admit) along for the wild ride.

The truth is, even the most carefully laid plans can’t guarantee atmosphere or magic. Some nights the sparks will leap higher than others. Yet the anticipation feels different this year: more essential, less like a reunion and more like a reboot. It’s hard not to imagine fans arriving not just as spectators but as participants—each person dragging along their own backstory, hopes, and perhaps (just maybe) an old, battered CD single from 2003 clattering around the car.

If 2026 is destined to belong to any one band—and let’s not kid ourselves, music is rarely that tidy—Evanescence seems hell-bent on giving it a run for its money. Some stories are best when they’re ongoing, with more verses left to write. And with each show—every voice echoing in cavernous halls, every ticket making a bit of difference offstage—the band proves the story is not close to finished. Maybe that's why the announcement doesn't feel like a mere calendar event. It feels, in the best way possible, like a spark just waiting to catch.

Some bands find their way back to the stage with little more fanfare than a flicker of nostalgia. Not Evanescence. After a stretch marked by creative restlessness and a year swirling with collaborative magic, the group has set their sights back on the UK and Europe for a full-scale tour—one that already hums with more than just the memory of old glories.It’s strange to think 2022 wasn’t all that long ago, yet the world seems determined to stretch time at every turn. The band’s previous UK appearance is now tucked away like a worn photograph, but, as of 2026, Evanescence doesn’t just revisit the past—they kick down the door. When word landed this spring that Amy Lee and company would return for a robust European run, something clicked. Perhaps that’s no accident. Few acts wear transformation as well as this one, and Lee herself hinted at the glow-up, calling 2025 “so inspiring in so many ways.” New music, iconic gigs, creative partnerships—none of it feels superfluous. It’s the groundwork for a homecoming threaded with fresh ambition.Now, when artists wax poetic about bringing “fire, energy and inspiration,” skepticism is often warranted. Yet with Evanescence, it barely feels like a tagline. “Fire” in this case is both promise and challenge—the kind you half-expect to see reflected in stage lights and, who knows, maybe even in the setlist.Of course, a tour is only as bold as the company it keeps. Instead of boilerplate support acts, the bill reads almost like a curated festival within the tour—a nod to community rather than hierarchy. Where Poppy joins, expect a whirl of styles: her avant-garde pop deftly tiptoes the line between intimacy and subversion, making her something of a spiritual twin to Lee’s own penchant for the dramatic. In the UK, K.Flay is along for the ride; her mix of sharp rhyme and raw vulnerability is less a contrast and more a creative friction—one that suits arenas as much as bedrooms. For the mainland crowds, Nova Twins bring in their kinetic punk spirit, all jumping basslines and snarling energy, ready to set the tone before Evanescence takes over.Not just a lineup, but a statement. Maybe even a gentle pushback against the tired notion of female-fronted acts as a genre rather than a force. Amy Lee seems to agree, calling back to collaborations with these very artists—K.Flay’s bruising appearance on “Fight Like A Girl,” the triple-threat vocal on “End Of You” involving Poppy and Spiritbox’s Courtney LaPlante, and that fierce moment with Halsey last summer (“Hand That Feeds,” which turned heads and, briefly, the internet). These partnerships aren’t just musical—they’re moments of handoff, torch-bearers refusing to let the light dim.Tucked into all this is a sense that these shows will swell with more than riffs and gothic drama. Yes, the venues themselves—Leeds’ First Direct Bank Arena, Manchester’s Co-op Live, the mighty O2 in London (arguably a temple for anthems)—they’re chapter headings in rock history. What seems different in 2026 is the undercurrent: a crowd, some who’ve clung to Lee’s voice since “Bring Me To Life” soundtracked adolescent gloom and others discovering Evanescence via a friend’s playlist, will all be standing shoulder to shoulder in newly rebuilt cities. Paris, Berlin, Barcelona—places that have lived a lot over the past few years—are more than dots on a tour map. They’re context.Perhaps most noteworthy, besides the songs, are the charitable efforts now woven directly into ticket sales. Evanescence’s partnership with PLUS1, funneling a cut of every ticket price into humanitarian and medical causes, is a clear signal—a move well suited to this era where artists are expected to lead with heart, not just presence. Concert landscapes are evolving. Acts who once sang about healing are now finding tangible ways to act on it.There’s a particular richness to this moment, especially for those who kept the faith—the audience members whose memories are tattooed with old piano ballads and surging choruses. Tours like this aren’t simply about nostalgia; they’re a reminder that growth doesn’t mean forgetting where you started. All those teenage anthems and heartbreak salves are still in the set, but now they share space with songs forged in recent fires. Evanescence isn’t just playing catch-up with the past; the band is stretching into what's possible, dragging fans (willingly, most would admit) along for the wild ride.The truth is, even the most carefully laid plans can’t guarantee atmosphere or magic. Some nights the sparks will leap higher than others. Yet the anticipation feels different this year: more essential, less like a reunion and more like a reboot. It’s hard not to imagine fans arriving not just as spectators but as participants—each person dragging along their own backstory, hopes, and perhaps (just maybe) an old, battered CD single from 2003 clattering around the car.If 2026 is destined to belong to any one band—and let’s not kid ourselves, music is rarely that tidy—Evanescence seems hell-bent on giving it a run for its money. Some stories are best when they’re ongoing, with more verses left to write. And with each show—every voice echoing in cavernous halls, every ticket making a bit of difference offstage—the band proves the story is not close to finished. Maybe that's why the announcement doesn't feel like a mere calendar event. It feels, in the best way possible, like a spark just waiting to catch.