Yungblud
Aug. 2, 2026
Kemba Live!
Columbus, Ohio
By Robert McCune
Photos by Robet McCune and Tom Pallant
Taken under the bloody batwing of the late Prince of Darkness Ozzy Osbourne, young prodigy Dominic Richard Harrison, aka Yungblud, has had a meteoric metal uprising.
He has brought full arenas to their shaky knees with his shirtless charisma and his emotional energy. Four studio albums in eight years, topping U.K. charts and gaining ground fast in the U.S.
But as fast fame tends to do, it has come with often scathing scrutiny, from gatekeeping critics and self-ascribed music purists and afficionados. The most common gripe seems to be a perception that Yungblud is not original enough or authentic.
He rooster-struts the stage like Jagger, shirtless and frenetic like Iggy Pop, belting rock anthems like Ozzy. A rockstar possessed by the ‘Icons’ who inspired him.
But there’s no denying the rockstar he is, purely and unbridled.
On stage, he gives and bares all to the point where it’s hard to imagine there’s anything left to hide or any shadow in which to hide it.
His nonstop, full-out energy is reminiscent of comedians Chris Farley and Robin Williams, for whom the off-switch and volume knobs seemed to be broken or inextricably stuck at 11.
That maintenance takes a toll. Dominic Harrison has outwardly struggled with it, not shy about talking about his mental health and willing to give himself time and space when he needs it. This year, that’s meant cancelled festival appearances in the U.S., as he went home to reset. His fans have by and large been supportive through it all.
Days after a return to action on the Lollapalooza stage in Chicago’s Grant Park, capped by a collab with The Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan on “Zombie,” Yungblud was in Columbus, Ohio, for a “make-good.” This show on the outdoor stage at Kemba Live! was rescheduled from May, which itself was to be delayed gratification for some who had canceled tickets to see Yungblud the year before at Cleveland’s The Agora.
It also occurred just days before Dom’s 29th birthday.
The evening got off to a shaky start. Fans lined up for hours outside the venue for a chance to get close to the rockstar had to wait longer once inside due to a steady downpour. In the standing-room-only pit around the stage, once capacity was quickly reached, fans were discouraged even going to the bathroom by venue staff who couldn’t promise they’d be let back in.
The opener/supporting act, Los Angeles’s grunge metal Return To Dust, started more than an hour later than scheduled, and was underwhelming. Based solely on the set the band delivered, they were an egregious mismatch for Yungblud. They get some credit for trying, but maybe trying too hard, asking the crowd for gestures of enthusiasm that are best earned. An attempt to relate to something as relatable as death and loss fell flat.
And so when Yungblud finally took the stage, the crowd was soaked and a little sore and spent.
Ultimately, did it matter?
Not at all.
After a massive, if prolonged, intro, Yungblud burst onto the stage and made all good and well. His walk-out song, Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs,” got the crowd singing along. With “Hello Heaven, Hello,” the rockstar extended a welcome to rock.
Then, dancing at his “Funeral,” this performance reached iconic. The volume ratcheted up to 12. And a crowd on feet so sore as to not feel like feet any longer was dancing on the stubs.
The set as a whole lasted less than a typical 90 minutes, 11 songs including a two-song encore. But it never felt like less. It felt instead like everything. Everything Yungblud had to give, and everything the fans could give back.
By the final song, the arena-sized ballad “Zombie,” we all felt and maybe looked a little like zombies, and of course wanted more, but were satisfied that we had been treated to and experienced greatness.
Dominic “Yungblud” Harrison promised to be back, to the U.S., to Ohio, and to Columbus particularly every year from here on out.
We can only hope he keeps that promise.
Follow Robert McCune on Instagram (@Every_Thing_After_Photo) and listen to the “Every.Thing.After Podcast” on Spotify.
