Review: Justin Bieber clocks into London’s O2 Arena

Thousands of screaming girls loved it, but did our reporter come down with Bieber Fever?

HE’S not one for lateness is young Justin Bieber.

The teenager may have reportedly found a fan in his hotel bedroom earlier in the day, but he was still right on time for his O2 show on Monday night.

Of course, it helped that the arena had a countdown clock, building his young female fans into a frenzy of screams that would make your ears bleed.

By the time he arrived on stage in a caged sphere, Justin could probably have sat in silence for two hours and his fans would have walked away happy.


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Being the cynical, jealous old hack that I am, perhaps that may have been preferable.

It’s just difficult to see the cause of this manic adulation for Justin, whose skinny arms and high-pitched voice are a constant reminder that he is, after all, a child – albeit one with supreme and rather terrifying self-confidence.

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Is he even that good looking? There were probably at least five lads at my school who could have matched him if they had an expensive haircut and airbrushed features.

With more than a knowing nod to Michael Jackson and Justin Timberlake, he bounded around stage with a swagger and fluent dance moves.

But there’s no substance, nothing to stick in the memory – his songs became like background music after a while as my eyes passed onto the masses of camera flashes and glow sticks.

The show itself was good fun for the teeny-boppers. He flew over the stage in a caged heart, strumming an acoustic guitar pleasantly enough (especially considering he was hovering 20 feet in the air) and dedicated one ballad to a girl on stage, who bizarrely looked rather uncomfortable with the whole experience.

Even more strangely, British singer Craig David pitched up for a duet, performing to a crowd who may never even have heard of Bo Selecta.

For those expecting unforgettable words from the Bieber, they were disappointed, with Justin only offering the odd insincere word on how pretty British girls were.

By the end, the crowd had screamed themselves hoarse and Justin’s team had no doubt cashed another eye-watering cheque (anyone buying a programme at �15 needs their head examining).

The audience loved it, and that’s ultimately the main thing. I didn’t come down with Bieber fever, but as a 28-year-old man, I’m probably immune.

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