Photos by Shayden Schoonover
The echoes of laughter and footsteps bounced off the walls of the 16,100-seat Pechanga Arena on a warm San Diego night. Tween girls and boys clutched their parents' hands, wide-eyed and bursting with excitement, likely attending their very first concert. College girls, middle aged women, and enough blond box dye to scare any hairdresser filled up the rest of the seats in the crowd. Despite the age gaps, they all had a couple things in common: leather cowboy boots, Benson Boone merchandise, and beaming smiles—lit up with the excitement of what was to come.
“We’re going to see him flip right in front of us!” a middle-aged woman gushed, eyes sparkling as she took in the view from her seat. Just a couple rows behind the pit, sitting comfortably in the lower bowl, we were in perhaps the most ideal place to observe the pop singer’s backflip in all its glory.
But gravity-defying stunts would have to wait, as singer-songwriter Brooke Combe’s soulful voice and jangly tambourine took the stage, gently easing us into the night. Raised in Dalkeith, a modest town in Scotland, she seemed mesmerized by the size of the crowd. With a warm smile, she reminded us that anything we set our minds to can become a reality, and she certainly proved her point through her very presence on the stage.
While an unexpected choice of opener for this particular audience, Brooke Combe’s down-to-earth tracks and jazzy flair were groovy and uplifting, earning plenty of head-bobbing from the audience. Unfortunately, mid-way through the set, during Combe’s song “L.M.T.F.A,” the audience’s attention started to sway, and a noticeable chatter rose throughout the arena. While no fault of Combe’s, this was an indication that perhaps she would be better suited as an opener for a slightly older audience.
Around 8:30 pm, Combe played her last few chords, and the house lights switched back on. A section of the crowd began to initiate the wave far too many times for a 30-minute break between sets and cheering commenced any time the lights so much as flickered. Then, with a burst of pyrotechnics and a rising silhouette from below the stage, Benson Boone made his entrance. The first backflip of the night came within seconds, met with ear-piercing cheers, as he landed effortlessly and went straight into “I Wanna Be The One You Call.” Strutting down the runway with confidence, it was clear that Boone had the crowd in the palm of his hand.
Dressed in a bedazzled black vest, matching jeans, and a pair of silver glittering Adidas, Boone brought a lively energy to the stage, which his fans only fueled with their dancing and singing. By the time he started singing his third song, “Sorry I’m Here For Someone Else,” from his most recent album American Heart, the fans knew what to do. Voices sang in unison as a circular platform slowly lifted him above the audience (backflip count: 2).
His fourth song, “Man In Me” (backflip count: 3), leaned into the All-American boy themes on his latest album that didn’t quite land with me—“you killed the only part of me I ever liked / you took the man in me.” The juxtaposition between Boone’s glittering outfit and emasculated narrative caused a disconnect that left me wondering who Boone truly is as a performer. Is he aiming for the David Bowie glam-pop vibe or the Bruce Springsteen Heartland aesthetics? This tension between two conflicting identities made the performance feel a little uncertain at times.
But despite the mixed-messaging, his vocals were undeniably impressive. Jumping into the pit to sing along with fans during “Drunk In My Mind,” Boone then slowed things down, with “Slow It Down” (see what I did there), bathing the arena in blue light and bringing out a grand piano to truly set the tone. Halfway through, he kicked things back up, ditching the piano for booming drums and an electric guitar (backflip count: 4), before transitioning into “Be Someone,” an upbeat pop song about wanting to be someone’s forever person. Funky bass lines and retro '70s swirls on the stage screens lit up the arena (backflip count: 5). Wrapping up the last few lyrics of the song, Boone descended into the stage, leaving his guitarist and bassist to play him out.
Nothing could have prepared me for what came next. With pyrotechnics ablaze once again, Boone reappeared, dramatically perched on a comically oversized chandelier, gliding along a track above the crowd as he sang fan favorite “Mystical Magical.” The energy in the arena soared. Everyone was on their feet, chanting every lyric like it was tattooed in their brains.
He followed up with “In The Stars,” probably the most emotional track on the setlist. Standing on a royal blue grand piano at the end of the stage, Boone shared that he wrote the song after experiencing the loss of someone he loved very deeply. The first half of the performance was raw and emotionally resonant, but, as with many of his more heartfelt songs, it didn’t stay that way for long. The piano faded out and the production quickly transitioned to a punchier beat and electric guitar. While this boosted the energy, it also undercut the vulnerability of the moment.
This became a recurring theme throughout the night. Boone struggled to walk the line between sincerity and showmanship. For an artist who is clearly vocally gifted and capable of writing emotional ballads, it was frustrating to see the piano spend more time as a prop than as a musical instrument. Whether it was an attempt to hold his younger audience’s attention or a fear of committing to vulnerability, the result felt like a missed opportunity to connect with his crowd on a deeper level.
Boone followed “In The Stars” with a medley of older songs—“Let Me Go” (backflip count: 6), “There She Goes,” and “Sugar Sweet” before performing “Take Me Home,” a piano ballad with folk influences. As the last notes faded, Boone descended into the stage and re-emerged in a dazzling new outfit—a red version of his previous combo. He went straight into the opening lines of the track that inspired the title to his most recent album, "Young American Heart.” When the second chorus hit, confetti canons all around the stage erupted, showering the audience with red, white, and blue heart shaped confetti, a sight as startling as it was thrilling (backflip count: 7).
Truthfully, Boone’s Americana-themed celebration felt tone-deaf in the current tense political climate. Theming a live show around romanticizing American iconography at this moment inevitably shapes the public’s perception of him, especially when many Americans are currently grappling with their relationship to patriotism. Boone is a skilled entertainer who knows how to work a crowd, but the deeper messages his performance sends can’t be ignored. A live show isn’t solely a spectacle, it reflects who an artist is and what they stand for.
This deeper message became especially prominent when, for his next song, he chose to cover “Rise Up” by Andra Day, a powerful anthem about perseverance and finding strength in community. Once again, the conflicting sides of his persona stood out. His choice of cover song suggested potential subversion, but his subsequent songs continued to lean into traditional masculinity, heartbreak, and rigid Christian values. The cover’s impact was further weakened when he launched a T-shirt with the song’s name into the crowd using a cannon.
Boone’s second-to-last track was his biggest hit, “Beautiful Things,” and naturally, the crowd was all in, singing every line back to him. He finished off the song with a full barricade walk that had the security guards stressed, before finally stepping off the stage. After a brief pause, he returned for the encore with “Cry,” now wearing his third outfit of the night: a sharp black blazer and matching pair of pants.
Walking out of the Penchanga Arena, I was left feeling perplexed by Benson Boone. On one hand, I respect that he’s a showman who knows how to entertain his audience. The three outfit changes, pyrotechnics, confetti, lifting platform, T-shirt cannon, chandelier, and eight backflips made that very clear. But that’s also part of his problem. Gimmicks can only carry a show so far. Boone needs a clearer sense of his artistic identity and a better balance between genuine moments and high-energy ones. For now, his performance works well for the audience he has built. But if he wishes to grow beyond that, he’ll have to think more deeply about what messages he wants to send as an artist. Otherwise, all the flashy tricks and bedazzled clothing might just distract from the story he’s trying to tell.
