Live Report: A spectacle of sex, synths and pop excellence with The Weeknd at Croke Park

The Weeknd has long since graduated from a cult R&B phenomenon to a global pop institution. In Ireland, his dominance is particularly difficult to ignore: tens of millions of streams, sold-out stadiums and a catalogue packed with chart hits from 'Can't Feel My Face' to 'Starboy' and, of course, 'Blinding Lights.' Yet, something has always felt slightly more subterranean about Abel Tesfaye's music.

Alternative R&B, dark pop and synthwave might not occupy the same commercial territory as mainstream dance or country in Ireland. Still, they have a devoted life of their own in clubs and independent venues. Tesfaye has spent his career bridging those worlds. Tonight, at a packed Croke Park, the result is less a conventional stadium concert than a full-scale descent into his peculiar, glamorous vision of the apocalypse.

As the first of two Dublin dates on the After Hours Til Dawn tour gets underway, dancers in red robes and eerie, gold, Eyes Wide Shut-style masks line the stage. Then The Weeknd appears, concealed behind an equally sinister black mask, amid bursts of flames and pyro.

The production is enormous and carefully considered. At its centre stands a gold statue of a woman, designed by Japanese artist Hajime Sorayama and inspired by his signature "Sexy Robot" series. A burning architectural structure forms another focal point, creating a cathedral-like backdrop for the evening's various chapters. Everything is drenched in darkness, gold and fire; an appropriately theatrical setting for music obsessed with isolation, nightlife, sex and purgatory.

DUBLIN, IRELAND - AUGUST 22: The Weeknd performs at Croke Park on August 22, 2026 in Dublin, Ireland. (Photo by Charles McQuillan/Getty Images for Live Nation)

There are echoes of almost every era of The Weeknd here. The murky atmosphere of House of Balloons - heavy reverb, slow tempos and bruised vocals - hangs over the production, while the sharper pop instincts of Beauty Behind the Madness and Starboy provide the huge hooks. More recently, After Hours and Dawn FM pushed Tesfaye towards an intoxicating world of '80s new wave, disco and synth pop.

'Baptised in Fear', one of the standouts from last year's Hurry Up Tomorrow, is an early highlight. Its transition into 'Open Hearts' is so seamless that the two tracks dissolve into one. On 'Wake Me Up', the combination of heavy synths, R&B and pop becomes almost overwhelming.

He remains elevated on the main stage while his masked dancers take centre stage, circling the golden statue. The effect is distinctly post-apocalyptic - a ruined city populated by beautiful, anonymous figures. If this is what gigs will look like at the end of the world, bring it on.

For all the spectacle, however, there is initially a distance between Tesfaye and the crowd. Attempts at singalongs are met with varying degrees of enthusiasm - until 'Starboy' detonates across the stadium. Suddenly, the stands are alive. The mask comes off, revealing a huge grin beneath it. The transformation is striking: the terrifying figure who emerged from the flames gives way to something much more human.

DUBLIN, IRELAND - AUGUST 22: The Weeknd performs at Croke Park on August 22, 2026 in Dublin, Ireland. (Photo by Charles McQuillan/Getty Images for Live Nation)

From there, the performance loosens. By 'Can't Feel My Face', he's clearly having fun, moving around the stage, dropping down towards the crowd and throwing in a brief crip-walk. The choreography becomes less rigid, the energy more spontaneous.

Tesfaye has never been particularly interested in traditional lyric complexity. His strength lies elsewhere: in atmosphere, vocal texture and the ability to make desire, loneliness, and hedonism feel cinematic. His soaring falsetto is perfectly suited to songs about romantic devastation; he makes whining and moaning about love feel genuinely transcendent. His best songs are his songs of longing. Starboy? Loverboy, more like.

His sonic palette is similarly indebted to pop history. There are flashes of Daft Punk-style synths and distortion in 'Take My Breath', alongside beats that recall late-prime Michael Jackson in 'I Feel It Coming'.

'Timeless' and 'RATHER LIE' bring another jolt of excitement, with opener Playboi Carti joining Tesfaye on stage to the delight of the crowd. By now, the evening feels less like a concert and more like a giant after-party. There were plenty of actual after-hours events advertised around Dublin tonight, but judging by the exuberance pouring out of Croke Park, there is little reason for anyone to go anywhere just yet.

Then Lana Del Rey's 'Stargirl Interlude' plays, an elegant signal that the night is beginning to draw towards its conclusion.

And inevitably, there is 'Blinding Lights'. Six years after its release, the song remains one of the most effective stadium anthems of the modern pop era.

Its omission from the 2021 Grammy nominations remains one of the more baffling decisions in recent awards history (Tesfaye responded by publicly calling the Grammys "corrupt" and announcing that he would no longer submit his music for consideration). Standing inside Croke Park as thousands of people erupt into the opening notes, it's difficult not to wonder what exactly the Recording Academy thought it was missing.

The Weeknd has built an entire universe out of darkness, desire and excess. Tonight, that universe fills Ireland's biggest stadium - and for a few hours, Croke Park feels less like the home of GAA than the final nightclub on Earth.

DUBLIN, IRELAND - AUGUST 22: The Weeknd performs at Croke Park on August 22, 2026 in Dublin, Ireland. (Photo by Charles McQuillan/Getty Images for Live Nation)