LOS ANGELES, CA- I’ll be honest: for years, I found myself leaning toward some of the criticism surrounding YUNGBLUD.
In certain corners of the internet… particularly Reddit and Justin Hawkins Rides Again… Dominic Harrison was often dismissed as a manufactured industry plant, a carefully packaged provocateur whose punk-pop aesthetic felt more calculated than authentic. Fair or not, I understood where those criticisms came from. Maybe it was the fluorescent hair. Maybe it was the collision of pop hooks and rock attitude that seemed designed to appeal to multiple audiences simultaneously. Maybe it was criticism from critics who questioned whether modern production techniques were doing too much of the heavy lifting.
Whatever the reason, I never fully bought in.
Then came Idols.
Something about this latest chapter feels different. At 28 years old, Harrison appears to be growing into himself, both artistically and personally. The songwriting feels more confident. The performances feel less concerned with proving something and more focused on expressing something. The result was an album that compelled me to give YUNGBLUD another chance.
The endorsements didn’t hurt, either. When artists like Steven Tyler and Ozzy Osbourne publicly embrace a younger performer, it naturally commands attention. These are artists whose reputations were built on authenticity, rebellion, and commanding stages around the world. Their support suggested there might be more substance beneath the image than some of his detractors were willing to acknowledge.
Still, records are one thing.
The real test is the stage.
Before YUNGBLUD would have his opportunity to answer that question, however, the evening began with a performance from The Warning.
And before the first note had even been played, it was obvious that many people had arrived specifically to see them.
While working in the photo pit, I found myself speaking with several fans camped directly against the barricade. Some told me they had spent more than $600 to secure those coveted front-row positions. Wanting to avoid obstructing their experience, I assured them I’d do my best to stay out of their way while photographing the show.
What struck me wasn’t the amount of money they had spent. It was what that investment represented.
These weren’t concertgoers arriving early for a better view of the headliner. These were dedicated fans who had come specifically for The Warning.
For anyone who has followed the band’s ascent over the past several years, that level of devotion isn’t surprising. The Villarreal sisters have steadily evolved from one of rock’s most promising young acts into a legitimate international attraction. Their performance at the Greek only reinforced that reality.
Opening with “MORE” and “S!CK,” the trio immediately established an aggressive tone before tearing through favorites including “DISCIPLE,” “Sharks,” “EVOLVE,” and “Automatic Sun.” They also treated the audience to “Ritual,” their latest single and a promising glimpse into the band’s next chapter.
Watching the crowd respond, it became increasingly difficult to view The Warning as merely an opening act. They felt more like future Greek Theatre headliners receiving an opportunity to demonstrate exactly why they belong on stages of this size.
Then came YUNGBLUD.
For the first few songs I photographed from the pit, one thought kept repeating itself in my head:
This kid is a rock star.
Not a social media personality. Not an influencer. Not a carefully curated brand.
A rock star.
And what ultimately convinced me wasn’t the music.
It was the complete lack of self-preservation.
The Greek Theatre is a massive venue. Most performers attempt to conquer a space that large through production, giant video screens, or carefully choreographed stage movements. Harrison attacked it the old-fashioned way: by refusing to stay on the stage.
Throughout the evening, he repeatedly plunged into the audience, transforming the entire venue into his playground. At one point, he worked his way into the terrace seating, climbing the walls and railings while security personnel scrambled behind him to ensure he didn’t fall. Watching the scene unfold, I couldn’t help but think of the larger-than-life frontmen who built their reputations before social media ever existed—performers who treated every concert as if it might be their last opportunity to win over a crowd.
The further he ventured into the audience, the more chaotic the scene became.
Fans desperately reached toward him from every direction. Some tried grabbing at his clothing. Others stretched their arms out in hopes of a selfie, a photograph, a brief touch, or a video to commemorate the moment. Yet Harrison never appeared uncomfortable. If anything, he seemed energized by the chaos.
What struck me most was how naturally he handled it.
For all of the discussion surrounding YUNGBLUD’s image throughout his career, there was nothing manufactured about what I witnessed at the Greek. You cannot fake that kind of connection. You cannot manufacture thousands of people simultaneously hanging on your every movement. You cannot choreograph the electricity that occurs when an audience genuinely believes the person in front of them belongs there.
And that’s ultimately where my skepticism began to fade.
I’ve seen technically superior vocalists.
I’ve seen better guitar players.
I’ve seen performers with bigger productions.
What I haven’t seen very often is somebody who can walk into a venue as large as the Greek Theatre and make every person feel like they’re participating in the show.
That’s a rare gift.
The irony is that after years of hearing arguments about whether YUNGBLUD was authentic, the answer revealed itself in the most obvious place possible: the live performance.
Authenticity isn’t a haircut.
It isn’t a wardrobe.
It isn’t a genre.
Authenticity is whether people believe you when you’re standing in front of them.
On this particular evening, thousands of people believed every word.
The only disappointment of the night came from a personal standpoint. Having noticed that “Suburban Requiem” had appeared at other stops on the tour, I was hoping Los Angeles would get the song as part of the set. Unfortunately, it didn’t make the final cut. While its omission hardly diminished the evening, it was the one moment I found myself wishing for more… and that’s a good thing.
Still, by the time YUNGBLUD closed with “Zombie,” that felt like a very small complaint.
I arrived at the Greek curious whether Dominic Harrison had finally grown into the artist his supporters always claimed he could become.
I left convinced that he has.
The songs on Idols suggest an artist maturing. The live show confirms it.
And if this is the version of YUNGBLUD we’re getting moving forward, rock music may have found one of its next great frontmen.
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LIVE CLIPS
YUNGBLUD's Idols Tour Stop at The Greek Theatre Was a Star-Making Performance
