Every so often, an artist comes along who is forced so intensely into the mainstream that their rise becomes inevitable. In 2024, that artist was Benson Boone, and his rise was all thanks to his hit single Beautiful Things. Everything that’s happened since has been nothing short of predictable, from his music and image to his unfortunate unique selling point – backflips. Because when you make music destined for shopping malls and car commercials, there must be something about you which people should remember. His second (yes, there is more) album American Heart attempts to capitalise on the massive year Boone had in 2024, however it fails to do so by a long shot.
Over the course of ten songs, ex-American Idoler Boone ticks all the boxes of a generic, major label ‘rock’ album, so much so that you can guess what’s going to happen next at every single moment. From the chord progressions to the words he’s going to rhyme with one another, American Heart could not be more phoned in. Lead single Sorry I’m Here For Someone Else could have been written by absolutely anyone else and you wouldn’t know, whereas fellow single Mystical Magical is Warner Music’s, sorry, Benson Boone’s attempt at sounding like the perfect lover. Instead, its chorus rips off Let’s Get Physical while the lyrics sound like they’re AI generated. It doesn’t get much better on Reminds Me Of You, on which Boone sings: “You’ve got a million different pairs of underwear spread out on my couch, ‘cus you left them there”. Just let that one sink in. Momma Song is a power ballad-slash-love letter to his mother, while I Wanna Be the One You Call juxtaposes a weird, twangy country sound and made-for-radio vocals. It just doesn’t work, none of it does. And while there is a swaggering beat on Wanted Man, it does little to save the rest of the song.
Of course, the production is slick throughout and every single second is meticulously planned out, but that’s also part of what holds it back from actually being a decent record. It’s all too safe, from the music to the marketing to the entire family friendly image Boone and his backflips try to maintain. He clearly wants to repackage the American Dream as something sexy and daring, but the final result is so far removed from this that, come final song Young American Heart, you’d be forgiven for completely forgetting who you were listening to. There is no identity beyond the overt Americanisms, forced bombast and his aforementioned backflips, and yet for some reason it seems to be working. There is an audience out there for this, but the less said about that the better. The kind of spinal cord injury you can succumb to from a failed backflip is more entertaining than this album.
Maybe in another lifetime, Benson Boone could be considered a groundbreaking visionary, but in this timeline his music is all American (over the top corporate radio ‘rock’ designed to be forced down our throats) but no heart. Not even a slither. If this is the sound of an artist who is currently backflipping his way into sold out arenas across the world, then the future is starting to look very bleak.
2/10
