Post Malone opened his stadium tour Tuesday night in Salt Lake City — the place he calls home.
Red rock desert landscapes glowed on giant screens, but it felt less like a stadium show and more like a backyard hang with friends — and there was no doubt that Malone was here for a good time.
When he transitioned into his country songs, his hips swayed freely and his bashful party boy personality was larger. The crowd roared and matched his energy to the twang — more so than during the chart-toppers.
He’s a modern rock star unbound, doing only what moves him — and in doing so, the joy he brought to the stadium was enthusiastic and profoundly contagious.
Jelly Roll opens the night with heart and sets the tone of hometown warmth
Jelly Roll opened the night with a quiet confession. “This is the most nervous I’ve ever been before a show in my life,” he said before kicking off his set.
His unease was endearing and mirrored the sincere energy both he and Malone carried into their first stadium tour.
Later, Malone echoed the sentiment, admitting, “I am scared ... but the fact that everyone came out means the ... world to me.”
Their candor was redolent of the good vibes they were bringing to the party — and was just one of the reasons the pair brought ease to Rice-Eccles Stadium, full of nearly 45,000 fans.
The sense of friendship and familiarity was sprinkled throughout the three and a half hour show as both artists paused between songs to offer unfiltered gratitude.
Post Malone brings backyard comfort and friendship to the whole stadium
Donning his “Ramblin’ Rose” shirt tucked into a belt buckle and a baseball cap on his head, the 29-year-old, self-styled party boy showed none of the nerves he’d admitted to.
He opened with “Texas Tea,” and from the first note, the stadium lit up — not just with music and energy, but with fireworks and bursts of flames that made the night feel more like the Fourth of July than a concert.
But Posty didn’t just perform for the crowd — he became a part of it and leaned into his warmhearted people-person from high school persona. The stadium became less a venue and more a backyard gathering, with Malone crouching down to the eye level of fans, snapping selfies, borrowing hats, sunglasses and jewelry.
The best-friend energy didn’t end there. Known for wearing his heart on his sleeve and leaving his ego at the door, Malone welcomed Jelly Roll back to the stage with an introduction that reminded everyone they belonged, “I’m dedicating this song to anyone who has felt like an outcast or a bit of a ... weirdo. I just want to say that you’re not ... alone. And I had the opportunity to bring one of my favorite ... weirdos in the world on tour.”
Jelly Roll and Malone sauntered down the long runway for a duet of “Losers.” The camaraderie between them was genuine and made the audience feel an even closer connection to the tatted-faced pair.
They ended the song with an embrace that was far from a performative act and simply a moment between old friends — and, naturally, marked by another round of fireworks.
Malone once again shrunk the stadium down to the size of a living room when he picked up his guitar for the ballad “Feeling Whitney.”
After a first attempt he wasn’t satisfied with, he paused, took a few sips of encouragement from his red Solo cup and said, more to himself than the crowd, “I can do it. One more go.”
He tried again, this time an octave lower.
The mood shifted and the stadium was still as his raw voice filled the space. No fireworks were needed this time.
Post Malone’s country turn strikes a chord in tour kickoff
Like Beyonce, Malone traded in his beats for boots with the release of his album “F-1 Trillion,” marking his move into country. Onstage, he wove his new twang-heavy tracks into a set list that still honored the hits that built his name.
But when he leaned into the country, something shifted. The former SoundCloud artist seemed to come more alive.
The crowd matched his energy, not just following along, but really leaning in — singing louder, kicking up dust and getting loose.
And though they still cheered for the decade of hip-hop, rock and rap anthems, it was the country songs that drew the loudest response.
But the fireworks may have had something to do with that.
As the night drew to a close, Malone reappeared high above the crowd, perched inside an old billboard at the back of the stadium, singing “Congratulations.”
Then, once again, he pulled everyone in for one more honest chat: “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I remember at the beginning, um, everybody called me a one-hit wonder. They said, you’ll never be in a billboard in Salt Lake City at Rice-Eccles Stadium. They said that specifically. And I just want to say that, the love that you all have shared (with) me, and the gift of your hearts that y’all have shared (with) me is the most amazing thing that I‘ve ever experienced in my whole life. And I‘ve wanted to do this for as long as I can ... remember.”
He continued, “I guess what I’m trying to ... say is don’t give up on your ... dreams.”
It wasn’t rehearsed, but ragged and raw. He opened the night with awe and gratitude, and by the end, it felt less like a concert and more like a heart-to-heart talk with a life-long buddy from college.
When the final bows were taken and the lights came up, Malone didn’t vanish backstage like most rockstars do.
Instead, he jumped straight into the crowd for more selfies, more hugs and more memories. Not with fans, but with friends.