“It’s taken 12 years to get to the O2! We’ve done it!” says a beaming, screaming, sweating, half-crying, heart-baring, butt-shaking, hyper-hyperactive Yungblud as he landed in London on an arena tour which has turned into a victory lap. Over the last year or so the Doncaster’s finest crazyperson has crossed over from punk-pop cult act into big league rock star, having released the ambitious album Idols, suddenly exploded in America and going viral for his performance of Changes at the Ozzy Osbourne tribute concert.12 years to finally become this overnight success…
But it’s a strange thing: he hasn’t really made total sense until this moment. As in, he was always a massive rock star who now finally has the massive rock star stages to strut around on. Previously - at least among snooty media - Yungblud was a curio. A highly likeable punk kid, articulate, outspoken about mental health, fearlessly political, funny, good-looking, he was too poppy to please the metallers, too much of a showman for slouching hipsters, and his teen appeal was just not the done thing; heavy forbid rock n roll, a music invented by and for teenagers, should actually have a teenage audience. And yet through sheer force of will, he has built and built his crowd, working hard, building his “family” and just making it happen - this was a guy who couldn’t get booked for festivals, so he simply put on his own; this summer the 3rd Bludfest takes place in Czechia.
Now a bone fide superstar, it has all come together for him. Opening with Hello Heaven, Hello, this prog-punk opera on record turns into a galloping, strutting epic of thunderous bravado. Quickly stripped to the waist, the man himself began a performance that combined the hip-swinging sexual exultation of Mick Jagger, the rabble-rousing huge insistence of Freddy Mercury, and the deranged oddball edge of Iggy Pop. This was not someone trying to play it cool, it was someone loving every minute, and saying “I’m going to give everyone of you the best night of your life!” You don’t get that with Geese.
Earlier support band The Molotovs had a similar approach – fuck staring at your shoes, if you’re playing, you’re going to give this 150%, jump about, dress outrageously, grab the audience by the balls and not let go.
Yungblud was this in excelsis. The Funereal was enormous. Fleabag, complete with audience member invited on stage to play guitar, just a joyous ode to being weird and outcast. Lovesick Lullaby is a brilliantly stroppy little rap-punk lairy layabout song which brought some Prodigy energy here that later rose up again in Lowlife.
It’s interesting to see Yungblud in the week of the David Bowie: You’re Not Alone show at the Lightroom opened. In that, Bowie is heard to say that always felt like an outsider and made music for other outsiders. And yet such was his commitment to that, in creating an alternative superstar for the outcasts, the mainstream was crashed nonetheless. Yungblud - Dominic Harrison’s own Ziggy - is entering this phase now.
He played Changes, he played his recent big rock hit Zombie, he hit peak after peak which, er, peaked with a spectacular Loner, and he did it all amid explosions, in very tight trousers, having the best night of his life, and yes, giving it to everybody else too.
This crazy kid is now a man beating all-comers, and look, with his messages of love and tolerance and togetherness, if you want an antidote to the toxic influence of Andrew Tate, Yungblud is it. Stick your children in front of him immediately...
