After cancelling his Birmingham gig an hour before curtain-up due to illness, the anticipatory hype around whether Benson Boone’s London show at The O2 would actually go ahead was almost as electric as his infamous song. But a reassuring ping from the ’gram confirmed: it’s on. And indeed, it was.
Two hours of rip-snorting kitsch-pop later, and any trace of illness or fatigue was well hidden. Somehow, Boone summoned the energy to bring full Bennie-style spectacle to a sold out arena in a show equal parts confetti-drenched musical dream and emo-tinged, power-grabbing balladry, delivered by a backwards-somersaulting 23-year-old in a baby-blue sequin belly top.
The TikTok-era showman has spawned his own brand of concert couture: fans turned up decked in matching sequins and stick-on moustaches. In return, Boone gave them a night of joyous abandon. A mass-karaoke vibe rippled through the arena as he skipped, flipped and flexed his way through "Sorry I’m Here for Someone Else", "Man in Me" and "Slow It Down", before dangling above the stage in a jet-pack-fuelled chandelier for "Mystical Magical" in a set list that balanced fun with feeling.
There was tenderness, too, in his preamble: before "Drunk In My Mind", he paused to admit, “Sometimes people say things and do things you don’t like,” or his voice softening as he promised that "Into The Stars" about someone he's loved and lost, would one day “mean something to you” if it doesn't already. Then came some camp comic relief in a spot-on British accent – “’Ello mate!” and “The water is gawgeous!” drawing delighted hysterics from the biggest audience of his combined US and European tour.
A t-shirt cannon determined the night’s cover song – Coldplay’s "Sparks", delivered with gentle, heart-tugging melancholy. Alongside the red-white-and-blue confetti blaze of "Young American Heart" and the dizzy sparkle of "Mr Electric Blue", he also treated long time fans to a medley of "Let Me Go, There She Goes and Sugar Sweet".
Your boy can certainly sing. He gets you in the feels with "Momma Song", births the tingles with "Beautiful Things", and nails those big-breath high notes. Part-crooner, part-ringmaster, Boone leapt off-stage to get up close with fans – met, naturally, with proper knicker-flinging hysteria – while a Freddie Mercury-style call-and-response spiralled into cheeky innuendo about his tight, sparkly trousers.
How does this charming young chap pull off such theatrical excess while maintaining credibility? Perhaps because beneath the camp Londonisms and “best night of your life” declarations lies real talent. Swapping sequins for a flash black tuxedo to close with "Cry", Boone proved he’s wise enough not to choose between sincerity and showmanship – he can, gloriously, do both.
