From old-school soul and Latin rhythms to Silk Sonic and “Uptown Funk,” Bruno Mars reminded Foxborough that great pop music is still a craft.
There are few better ways to understand the scale of a stadium concert than by trying to leave one. After Bruno Mars finished the first of two sold-out nights at Gillette Stadium on September 5, it took more than 90 minutes just to reach the parking lots, where endless lines of fans wound through the dark toward Route 1. Nearly everyone seemed dressed for the occasion: red silk pajama sets, white hats and gold chains from the 24K Magic era, or red roses tucked into their hair as part of the organic “sea of roses” phenomenon that has become a viral tradition among fans on this tour. Even before Mars took the stage, it was clear this wasn’t just another concert – it was an event.
The combination of generations and eras felt especially appropriate for Mars. Since Doo-Wops & Hooligans introduced him to the world in 2010, he has built a career making unapologetically mainstream pop while pulling from doo-wop, soul, funk, disco, R&B, rock, and Latin music. His latest album, The Romantic, leans into another era of old-fashioned romance, complete with roses, red silk, and plenty of passion.
Bruno Mars doesn’t simply perform live. He puts on a show, in the classical sense of the word. Anderson .Paak warmed up the crowd as DJ Pee .Wee, trading his usual spot behind the drums for a DJ booth and showing off his considerable hype-man skills. When blood-red curtains finally opened, Mars emerged in a red silk suit embroidered with flowers, a gold belt buckle, white sneakers, and a red bandana. Stained-glass imagery, glowing reds, and deep blues gave the stage the feeling of a 1960s or 1970s lounge enlarged to football-stadium proportions.
Then Mars started singing. His voice remained remarkably clear as he danced with Usher-like precision and moved across the stage as smoothly as liquid. There were flashes of the entertainers who came before him: Michael Jackson in the movement, James Brown in the power stances and romantic cape, and Prince in the musicianship and swagger. Watching Mars kick his microphone stand perfectly back toward himself or seamlessly move from singing to dancing to playing an instrument – or all three simultaneously –, felt as though the tradition of the great pop showman was alive and well.
During “24K Magic,” live trumpets gave the song a richness and warmth beyond the recording. Mars spent large portions of the night shredding on guitar and at one point moved behind the bongos for what felt like his Tito Puente era. Later, the Latin rhythms became so infectious that even security guards could be seen salsa dancing in the aisles. Nothing felt like Mars was simply recreating songs everyone already knew. The music was alive around him, and his band seemed capable of following him anywhere.
Throughout the night, Mars created a different world around each song. During “Why You Wanna Fight?,” storm clouds gathered above the stage as simulated rain and thunder transformed the stadium. Later, a cherry-red Cadillac convertible with white pinstriping, wire wheels, and chrome rolled into view for “That’s What I Like.” Sitting on the hood, Mars slipped into doo-wop harmonies and pieces of classics like Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On.” Fireworks, guitars, choreography, and costume changes appeared constantly, yet none of it ever seemed to overshadow the music.
The evening shifted again when Anderson .Paak returned behind the drums for a Silk Sonic section. Together, Mars and .Paak transformed Gillette into a 1970s soul club, moving through “777,” “Fly as Me,” and “Smokin Out the Window” before Mars asked if the crowd wanted to hear “the song that started this whole Silk Sonic mess.” “Leave the Door Open” became something resembling a vocal sing-off, with each singer pushing the other further. .Paak was loose and playful while Mars was polished and precise. Together, they celebrated an earlier era of soul without making it feel trapped in the past.
Perhaps the most powerful reminder of Mars’ talent came when much of the spectacle disappeared. A black grand piano rose onto the stage for “Die With a Smile” as stars filled the screens behind him. From there came “It Will Rain,” “Talking to the Moon,” “Grenade,” and “When I Was Your Man.” Looking around Gillette, thousands of people belted out every word, each seemingly lost inside their own memory. Having this many global hits eventually means something beyond charts and streaming numbers. The songs become attached to people’s lives.
By the time “Locked Out of Heaven,” “Just the Way You Are,” and a fireworks-filled “Uptown Funk” brought the night toward its conclusion, the larger story had come into focus. Mars has been a working performer since he was four years old, when he joined his family’s Waikiki revue as a pint-sized Elvis impersonator. It wasn’t simply a childhood hobby. His family was unhoused for a significant portion of his youth, at times sleeping on rooftops and in abandoned buildings before eventually living for more than two years at Paradise Park, the shuttered bird zoo where his father had once worked. Performing as a mechanism for both love and survival was woven into family life from the beginning.
Decades later, that lifetime spent learning how to hold an audience was visible in how effortless everything appeared. There was a palpable muscle memory to it. Singing this well while dancing is extraordinarily rare and takes decades of practice to achieve, and playing multiple instruments while commanding a stadium is rarer still. Yet Mars moved between singer, dancer, musician, and bandleader without ever appearing to pause physically or mentally. on stage. He has practiced the craft for so long that it looked as natural as breathing.
Looking out over the crowd, it was clear that Mars has become something truly extraordinary in today’s fractured music landscape: a talent capable of bringing seemingly every generation and musical taste into the same stadium – the definition of pop(ular) music. Bruno delivered dead-on-center pop music, but there is nothing simple about doing it this well and nothing more difficult and ethereal than delivering real hits – songs that light up the world and then live in the air we breathe for the rest of our lives. Music isn’t just energy. It is also a craft, built through years of rehearsal, practice, and repetition until effort becomes instinct, confidence, and ease. On a late-summer night in Foxborough, Bruno Mars made it look effortless. Watching him, you couldn’t help but feel lucky to be in the presence of one of the greats.