No Doubt throws it back — way back — at the Las Vegas Sphere

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.

LAS VEGAS — “You know, I was thinking,” Gwen Stefani said, looking out at the crowd before her on Wednesday night at Sphere. The singer was maybe an hour and a half into the first show of No Doubt’s monthlong residency at the dome-shaped venue just off the Las Vegas Strip, and now the moment had come for the hit that changed everything for this once-scrappy ska-punk band from Orange County.

“I was thinking about this next song, and I was thinking about Anaheim,” she continued. “Do you know where Anaheim is?”

The song, of course, was “Just a Girl,” which Stefani said she wrote “out of pure innocence in a time where I was just becoming aware of myself and my surroundings.” She added that she’d always assumed she’d outgrow the song — that someday it would feel disconnected from the life of a woman who went on to become a pop star with a clothing line and a gig on TV. Here she was, though, about to do “Just a Girl” for 20,000 or so fans eager to sing along.

“You tell me if you think it’s still relevant,” she said.

In a built-to-please town where old hits are welcome on any stage — not least Sphere’s, which these days also hosts the Eagles and the Backstreet Boys — the crowd’s verdict was no surprise. Yet this was a more committed look back than might have been expected, with a loose narrative arc tracing No Doubt’s ascent (rather than its peak) and a set list filled with deep cuts well beyond the catchy singles that once blanketed KROQ and MTV.

Beneath a massive wraparound screen that flickered with vintage camcorder-style footage from the early 1990s, the group played “Excuse Me Mr.” and “New” and “Total Hate ’95”; Stefani and her bandmates — guitarist Tom Dumont, bassist Tony Kanal and drummer Adrian Young — did “Trapped in a Box,” “End It on This” and “The Climb,” which No Doubt heads on the internet say they hadn’t performed live in nearly three decades.

Then again, for one of those decades, No Doubt wasn’t performing at all. The band made its ballyhooed comeback in 2024 at Coachella, where it delivered a punchy, compact set of hits and brought out Olivia Rodrigo for a guest spot that demonstrated Stefani’s influence — musical, attitudinal, sartorial — on the generation of female pop stars that came after her. (At Sphere, Stefani’s taste in plaids and animal prints was clearly still casting a spell among her admirers.)

No Doubt’s Sphere residency is scheduled to run through mid-June.

(John Shearer)

The takeaway from Coachella was that the band had worked itself back into fighting shape; Stefani, in particular, seemed eager to prove that her years doling out niceties on “The Voice” and dabbling in country music with her husband, Blake Shelton, hadn’t dulled her edge. Here, the band went further, using Sphere’s state-of-the-art environs to imagine itself back in a dingy club or student union.

There were big visual moments, including a simulated trip through a crumbling amusement park — the “Tragic Kingdom” of the group’s breakout 1995 LP — and a bit with a stories-tall cartoon Stefani towering over the room in her fishnets and combat boots. And even with all of the obscurities, it’s not as though No Doubt skipped its best-known songs: “Bathwater” and “Spiderwebs” were bouncy yet propulsive, while “Underneath It All” and “Hella Good” showcased the players’ nimble rhythmic interplay. Stefani’s voice was at its pleading best in “Don’t Speak,” one of the great pop ballads of the last 30 years, and “Simple Kind of Life,” which was accompanied by a video starring Stefani and Kanal acting out some episode from their ancient romance.

Before “Ex-Girlfriend,” which Stefani wrote amid her doomed marriage to Gavin Rossdale of Bush, the singer said, “It gives me — what is it? The PTSD. But because I absolutely adore you guys, I’m gonna suffer.”

Yet this was the chapter of No Doubt’s story — basically the apex of its popularity — that the band seemed least interested in exploring on Wednesday. The impression you got was that Stefani and her pals hadn’t come to Vegas to cruise or to gloat or even to soak up the easy adulation that’s always on offer here; weirdly, they’d come to remember the struggle.