SerpApi.Org
Bruno Mars may just be the canniest male pop star of his generation. Having risen to prominence in 2010 with a series of radio-friendly, reggae and R&B-infused pop songs (Grenade and Just The Way You Are, among them), he now attracts more monthly Spotify listeners than anyone in the world; thanks largely to his enduring knack for earworm melodies and numerous well-chosen collaborations (among them: Mark Ronson for Uptown Funk; and Lady Gaga, Die With a Smile). Now, he has sold out six nights at Wembley Stadium, a feat that puts him in a similar league to Bad-era Michael Jackson, who performed just one night more.
On Saturday night, Mars received a hero’s welcome from some 80,000 fans. He swaggered across the stage in an immaculate suit, displaying a certain sort of old-school charm; at various points he played guitar, piano and percussion, and delivered soaring vocals – backed up by a faultless, brass-heavy backing band.
Mars, now 40, expertly weaved together close to two decades’ worth of material into three sets; the second of which saw him pair up with collaborator Anderson Paak for the deliciously smooth retro-soul of their Grammy-winning superduo, Silk Sonic, while the third offered a nostalgic journey through his biggest hits.
The first of Mars’s three sets relied heavily on material from his newest album, The Romantic – a risky move given that that album is yet to produce a truly mega-hit. But this didn’t affect the charged atmosphere – this is a man who could set an insurance company’s annual report to music and somehow make it entertaining.
Mars luxuriated in all the indulgences reserved for a musician of his magnitude; from bringing an old-school Cadillac on to the stage to fireworks, flames and confetti cannons and various other dazzling visual effects. It was silly, but strangely sincere and only worked because Mars is among the vanishingly few, superbly theatrical performers who could make such an OTT display seem justifiable.
In an age of pop music where “vulnerability” is prized above all else – resulting in a steady stream of male stars who glumly sing versions of the same sad song again and again over their acoustic guitar – Mars is an ever more refreshing star. He certainly doesn’t take himself too seriously, which was best illustrated at Wembley when he returned from a momentary interval in an England football scarf and Union Jack bucket hat while clutching a Paddington Bear, as if he just ransacked a London tourist gift stall.
Mars ended his set with reliable crowd-pleaser Uptown Funk, its bravado providing a fitting final note from one of pop’s slickest, suavest frontmen.
Until July 28; tickets: brunomars.com
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