Album: Benson Boone - American Heart

I first had a conversation about Benson Boone without realizing it was him we were talking about. It went something like: “Did you see that horrifying moment at Coachella when Brian May got onstage with some American guy, and no one knew who he was? HOW DO THEY NOT KNOW?!” We berated youth culture, blinked – and suddenly, Boone had released a second album.

Kneesliding into superstardom via TikTok, American Idol, and a few too many viral backflips, Boone’s debut Fireworks & Rollerblades had moments of pure algorithm bait. American Heart has that same ability to make you feel like the main character in an existential reel – even if you’re just waiting for your laundry to finish while questioning your life choices. There’s a stronger retro-Americana filter here, with echoes of Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel, most evident in opener “Sorry I'm Here for Someone Else,” about bumping into an ex. It's an air-punching, Cadillac-road-trip kind of track, complete with nostalgic drum flourishes that nod to classic rock’s golden era.

American Heart has equal amounts of ability to make you feel like you’re the main character, even if you’re just waiting for your laundry to finish and questioning your life choices. There’s a stronger retro-Americana filter with Echoes of Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel, prevalent in the opener "Sorry I'm Here for Someone Else" about bumping into an ex. It’s an air-punching Cadillac road trip track, complete with nostalgic drum flourishes that nod to classic rock’s golden era.

"Mr. Electric Blue", dubbed as an ode to Boone’s hard-working father with a dash of Ziggy Stardust, seems to me to be more of a broad-brush caricature of the Great American Dream: “He's a man's man / A good, hard-working American / But he ain't the guy / You'd wanna fight / he'll make you bite the dirt”. It’s super peppy, and just too kitchen disco to ignore. Then there’s the deeply divisive “Mystical Magical” that vibrates with the energy of Olivia Newton-John’s “Physical” and chirps with the kind of meme-sauce you’d associate with Pedro Pascale, in the lyrics “you kiss me like you want it, how rude, how rude”. The more I listen to this album, the more I think that perhaps Boone is one of those remarkable oddities – an American artist with a British sense of humour.

The album's wavers slightly with "Reminds Me of You," a Bruno Mars-esque slow jam about an old flame, and includes wince-inducing line: “A box of written letters on my nightstand, With a Polaroid picture of your chest”. But "Momma Song" soars – a dramatic ballad that is core-emotion-unlocked territory, already soundtracking countless teary TikToks. And the sentimental piano acoustic “Take Me Home” is another full-bodied standout.

There’s a twinkle of neo-glam rock in “Wanted Man”, and the album’s final flourish, “Young American Heart” encapsulates Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start The Fire” with a roadside stop dollop of youthful exuberance. I for one am pleased the generation he’s talking to has a bridge to the 80s in the form of a good old power grab.

Boone may have built his castle on TikTok sand, but there's something undeniably magnetic about his commitment to the bit. He’s a born showman with genuine vocal chops, reaching for something bigger – something timeless. American Heart pulses with nostalgic grooves, infectious hooks, and compulsive replay. Whether he’s the next Freddie Mercury remains to be seen. But for now, he’s owning the spotlight – and this summer, it’s his.