REVIEW: WEEKEND RAISE WEMBLEY'S ROOF & REAFFIRM LEGEND STATUS
ONE-NIGHT-ONLY SHOW ADORNED TEENAGE NOSTALGIA, LAUGHTER & BARRAGE OF HITS



Picture it: London, 2025. The birthplace of the 21st century's biggest boyband. Their first show post-pandemic. Masses of fans of all ages and gender conglomerating in the United Kingdom's capital. A one-night-only event hosted by five of the most beloved and recognisable figures in the world. It's safe to say that the atmosphere was positively bombilating with excitement and anticipation. With a record-breaking, once in a lifetime cultural event encroaching on the clock, Wembley Stadium echoed a barrage of screams, shrieks and squeals before a single artist set foot on stage.

Online friends and fans of the band finally meeting each other in person, lifelong pals creating precious memories together, young mothers introducing their offspring to the heroes of their teenage years, and all those who cannot believe they'll soon be sharing space with the five men that mean most to them, regardless of how far back their seats may be - the overarching theme pulsating throughout the venue was one of love. Love and adoration. Handmade banners with heartfelt messages plastered across in the hopes of being seen, strangers applying face-painted emblems to one another and handing out homemade friendship bracelets, multiple merchandise stalls with clothing and items representing your favourite member. Are you a Riley girl? An Oscar boy? Doesn't matter. Everyone is seen, heard and catered to for the night. Despite the impressive capacity of the stadium, it's still an extremely exclusive event that a miniscule percentage of the world is lucky enough to witness and be part of. Every attendant seemed incredibly grateful thus far.



From 6:30 p.m., an hour's worth of music from carefully crafted playlist belted throughout Wembley in order to maintain the hype before the show started and while an absolute mass of people navigated the overwhelming structure to find their seats, nearest toilets and snap as many pics of their glorious outfits while the lights were still up. Blasting through the speakers was an onslaught of Weekend-adjacent artists that their fans were sure to appreciate. The biggest hits from partners and friends of the band rippled throughout the stadium, oftentimes causing singalongs among the crowd despite it being merely tracks from a Spotify playlist. Eilidh, SYNCO, Mandy Williams, Jennifer Armstrong, Orion, Atomic War Bride, The Stat Nerds, anyone who ever brushed shoulders with or outwardly supported the band was given their moment during the pre-show warmup.

7:30 p.m. strikes and the lights come down for the first time. The sound barrier practically breaks as a sea of the most guttural roars around the vast structure. The familiar opening chords of Jack Dunn's recent #1 hit "Silence So Loud" kick off as the man himself takes to the stage. While it's often the case that opening acts usually play to half-full venues as a bulk of people only care about the main event, Weekend fans are extremely eager and supportive. Dunn began his set with a full Wembley Stadium engulfing him and his relatively simple stage setup. While some audience members were simply there because they wanted to get to their seats on time, and some felt a loyalty to Riley Hamilton's friend, it was evident through the chanting and singing along throughout Dunn's set that the newcomer already has an army of supporters under his belt regardless of who is opening up for. It's worth noting that this was the night prior to Jack's successful UMA's sweep. Weekend may be the headline but there's no dismissing the fact that I, alongside 90k others, had the privilege of watching a superstar in the making before he catapults to an untouchable level.

Dunn performed a solid 9 song setlist comprising of his #1 hits, previously unheard tracks from his forthcoming debut album, as well as covers of some classic hits that have inspired and informed his own music. Interjected throughout the set was top-rate audience interaction peppered with Jack's signature Geordie charm. Dunn had the 90,000 strong crowd at ease, eating from the palm of his hands and all fired up for the spectacle that lay ahead. With his talent, showmanship and authentic, genuine connection with the group, I cannot think of a more perfect opening act for the historic night. Dunn raised the roof. A smart move on behalf of all involved.



• • • • •



Following on from Dunn's approximately 50 minute set, the lights come back on for a much needed interval. There's more merch stalls to pick clean, overpriced but essential thirst-quenching drinks to pick up in order to survive all the body heat, as well as time needed to decompress and mentally prepare for what lays ahead. Doors have been opened to Wembley for around two and a half hours by this point already, with tens of thousands of us being teased and drip-fed that dangling Weekend carrot, for lack of better phrase. Though, knowing the boys, that innuendo is a well suited comparison. The time slowly but surely ticks away. We all know what's ahead. What's about to insult all the senses and push us to a feeling of sheer euphoria seldom experienced in these mortal bodies.

8:45 p.m. The lights go down. If I thought the uproar surrounding Dunn's arrival earlier broke the sound barrier, the tsunami of exhalation and hurrah for Weekend defied all logic and scientific findings. The frenzied only continued and snowballed, even with no member of the band on stage at the time. Images of their handsome faces projected across the large screens while the lighting repeatedly turned shades of red, orange, green, blue, and purple - Weekend's individually assigned colours. The screams amplified in decibels with each change of hue as the audience rooted for their favourite corresponding member. The hype music from the live band builds to a crescendo before finally erupting into the introduction of "Victory", one of a slew of #1 hits for the group. Then...it happens. Oscar Ward, Dustyn Blue-Conners, Scott Wellington, Riley Hamilton and Billy Khan take to the stage, rising from a platform in the centre of the stage whilst surrounded by smoke like the enigmas that they are. The young woman beside me is already a red-face, teary-eyed wreck and a single lyric hasn't even been uttered.

After a small but mighty "HELLO WEMBLEY!" from Khan, the band waste no time in getting the night of nostalgia and megahits underway. Less than 15 minutes in and we've already been treated to three back to back chart-topping bangers that most acts would save for an encore but when you have a repertoire as illustrious as Weekend's, you churn some of these ditties out before you even break for the obligatory audience interaction. Tonnes of said chatter was liberally sprinkled throughout the show and I eagerly awaited to hear their jokes and tales as equally as I anticipated the next banger on the setlist. Natural raconteurs, Weekend were as much at ease on the mic while chatting and holding court as they were warbling down it. Khan and Blue-Conners in particular seemed to shine while sharing anecdotes.

Weekend assaulted us with an onslaught of iconic songs throughout the night, the mood and energy not daring to drop an inch at any moment. From start to finish, Weekend's one-night-only show was an upward trajectory. After bathing in the nostalgia of their earlier hits, they'd whip out a more recent chart-topper to remind us that they aren't a retro act. When they brought the acoustic guitars and spotlight out to make us sob, they'd then blindside us with a brand new, unreleased track and anoint us with the highest privilege of being the first in the world to hear it. For a band put together by answering an advertisement in a music magazine and initially seen as the industry's punching bag, they haven't half come a long way and stacked up the hits and credentials to back it up. Five ordinary guys having 90,000 people hanging on their every word and singing back every syllable for just over two hours is an incredible feat.

The mostly self-penned music wasn't doing the heavy lifting. Their showmanship, energy and cartoonish personalities pushed the show to new heights. We weren't just treated to a night of our favourite hits, we were experiencing Weekend at their ultimate. The banter between members was worth the ticket price alone. Oscar and Billy trading off jokes and cuddling each other in the flesh? Take my money now! While they aren't known for the traditional boyband trope of choreographed dance routines, Weekend still commanded the stage with their presence, outfits (I'll touch on THOSE later!), their zany, spontaneous moves and glass-shattering vocals. They jumped around, high-kicked, vocally shredded,

A few songs into the night, I realised that not only was I lucky enough to acquire a ticket to experience this event but also to witness one of the greatest bands of all-time in their prime. Vocally, they have never sounded better. Yes, even Scott, before you make a cruel joke! Wellington, while not possessing the same prowess of his bandmates, sounded the most confident and competent in years. Oscar Ward, who was initially the band's lead singer but had to take a backseat on account of vocal cord issues, exuded true frontman energy that we haven't seen from him in a while. Khan sounded as lush as ever and, most impressively, seemed subdued and on the same page as the others rather than making it "The Billy Show". Riley Hamilton, who also had an unexpected solo moment, has probably shown the most vocal growth over the years. Although always a decent singer, Hamilton was riffing, running and ad-libbing on that mic like nobody's business. Then there's Dustyn, one of the finest vocalists in the business today. His voice has only strengthen and grown richer over time. At one point, the cheeky Irishman jokingly paused to take a sip of water while effortlessly belting out one of the most extensive, impressive notes I've ever heard in a live show.

All either in their late-twenties or early-thirties, it's safe to assume that years from now this will be seen as their peak era. Looking incredibly handsome, in the best shape we've ever seen them, writing some of their best music and delivering vocals that sings rings around the teenage versions of themselves, we were all treated to a real spectacle. Not to sound too pessimistic after experiencing what may have been the greatest night of my life but, like everyone, they're only going to get older. Also, in the world of pop bands, there's also that inevitable split coming in the future. They've been a strong unit for almost 15 years but it's only natural that it will wind down one day. To witness Weekend in their ultimate form is a true blessing. While they may not be touring this year, hence the reason behind doing a one-off show, I hope they hit the road in 2026 or so, allowing more people to enjoy their splendour.

I wasn't the only one lucky enough to be part of the night. Every so often, either the boys or the cameras would highlight and bring attention to one of the plethora of celebrity friends in the crowd. Dallas Blue-Conners, Layla Sanchez, Erich Hess, Ellie-Grace Summers, Ryan Ross Hernandez, Andrea Mason, Keshia Love, Maliah Aguilar, Michelle Green, Amelle Fiore and Christopher Hudson were just a few that were spotted and mentioned throughout the night. Fellow performers Jack Dunn and Mercedes also returned to the VIP section to enjoy the rest of the show once their parts had been played. A true star-studded night for the ages.

• • • • •



Fresh off of some controversy just a few nights before (though what else would expect?), Billy was the name on most lips prior to the show. Embodying the craziness of what it means to be a Weekend member as well as being a bona fide star in himself, it's no wonder that the lobby was awash with purple outfits (Khan's signature colour) and his handsome face plastered over everything from hoodies, to tote bags. The screams he received upon arrival cemented his pulling power and the man did not disappoint. He was incredibly hilarious and entertaining on the mic. Being a London lad himself, Billy was well and truly at home. He's a natural when it comes to being centre of attention. As well as his comedic timing and natural allure, Billy was on top form vocally. His control and restraint is what impressed most. While doing all sorts of vocal acrobatics, he never came across as try-hard nor did he attempt to overshadow his band mates. Billy is a force to be reckoned with but receives even more kudos for being such a team player when he easily could've tried to hijack the night.



Oscar Ward was a revelation. This is without a doubt the best he has ever been. After suffering a few patchy moments during the middle of Weekend's run due to extensive vocal surgeries and a knock in his confidence, this was Oscar 2.0. Imagine the cocky charm of the naughty private schoolboy we were all introduced to back in 2012 but now with a refined, suave demeanour cutting through the bravado. He appeared incredibly confident and could charm the birds from the trees. While he spent the latter half of the 2010's sporting a much quieter and reserved aura, Friday night was Ward kicking back. Strutting around in figure-hugging jumpsuits, glittery cropped coats and blurting out the goofiest and most impressive vocal ticks and flips, it was apparent Oscar wanted to be seen and heard. Mission accomplished. I felt like a proud father watching him bounce back bigger and better than ever. With all the rumours and not seeming as close as the others over the years, seeing Oscar naturally play off of Billy was also one of the night's many key moments.



Riley Hamilton may have been the man of the moment, however. With his friendship with Jack Dunn, the opening act, and literally just bagging his first ever #1 outside of the band, the entire event was seeded by Hamilton's input and exponential rise in status as of late. Dropping a pop-punk collaboration with the nation's favourite socialite and creeping up to become one of the strongest singers in the band, Riley is seemingly the King of Subversion. What you think and what you expect will be flipped on its head by the unsuspecting Northern teddy bear. One of the biggest, loudest moments of the night was Riley's surprise solo performance with Mercedes when they whipped the crowd into a frenzy with "No Guts, No Glory". Ask anyone 10 years ago which member of Weekend would get a dedicated solo moment at Wembley Stadium and I could guarantee Riley would not be the name given forward. With powerful belts, an impressive range which encapsulates a high Bee Gees-esque falsetto and wacky, almost scat-singing ad-libs, Riley definitely earned more fans and admirers than he went in with at the start of the night.



Most people are expecting an ironic, passive-aggressive, meme-fuelled take on Scott Wellington's performance as that has sadly and cruelly become the norm for the star. Hate to break it to you but Scott was fantastic and those of us in the know have been aware of this for years. Wellington's online poking and prodding largely comes from those who have never been invested in Weekend, those who have seen an unfortunate clip of him, and those who are just mean. While not having the chops of his bandmates, who are four of the most impressive vocalists in the business, Scott held his own and sang with more gusto than he has in years. You wouldn't think this was a man with crippling anxiety around performing these days. His prominent vocal lead on the deep-cut "Animal" was a true highlight. SING that chorus, Wellington!



Undoubtedly the star of the show, however, was Dustyn Blue-Conners. I'm not being biased as a Dustyn boy. There's a reason why I am! The pen behind the majority of the hits, the old-fashioned crooning voice that'd melt the iciest of hearts, the shredding of his guitar that could rival the legends of yesteryear and the bubbly personality that can light up an entire stadium, Dustyn brought the house down with every opportunity he had. His giggly Irish voice alone had the entire crowd on his side before he even reached the punchlines of his hilarious jokes. His electric guitar solos took already bombastic pop hits to an entirely new level. The notes he was belting out with such ease had jaws on the floor and, not to sound shallow, the outfits? Let's talk about the outfits. Shaking his backside in a pair of tight leather trousers and then appearing shirtless for the latter half of the show to boast an impressive and unexpected muscular physique, Blue-Conners was the name on everyone's lips by the end of the night. Sheer magnetism and star power. Astounding legwork and gym routine too, I may add.



A Weekend show is a peculiar experience in that you're well aware you're in the presence of greatness while simultaneously feeling like you're just hanging out with five old mates. We've watched Dustyn, Billy, Riley, Scott and Oscar grow up in front of us. We've all been part of the memes, inside jokes, viral clips and iconic Twitter moments. Weekend have built an enormous community around them and, despite their star power and dizzying heights of fame, are still just as much part of this union. Weekend are still five local lads you'd bump into on a night out in town who just so happen to be some of the most incredibly talented performers of their generation. That's what makes them the greatest.



- Darren Cole