(House of Blues, Lake Buena Vista FL) On the final U.S. stop of The Great American Roadshow, Shaboozey turned the House of Blues into a sweaty, smiling celebration of genre-blending country — part honky-tonk, part hip-hop bounce, wholly his own. The October 16 set leaned into the theatrical and the intimate at once: big production numbers for the room-shaking hits, mixed together with quieter and more vulnerable moments that made the crowd lean in.
The set moved smoothly between stomping party tracks and slow-cook storytelling. Opening with the plaintive, character-driven “Last of My Kind,” he rode through fan favorites — “Anabelle,” “Blink Twice,” “Tall Boy,” “Drink Don’t Need No Mix,” “Vegas,” and “Highway” — before several emotional peaks: the duet “Move On” (with Kevin Powers), a surprising and affectionate cover of Hank Williams Jr.’s “Family Tradition,” the prayerful “Amen,” and the runaway singalong “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” that still commands the room. The Orlando set closely matched the tour’s running order fans have been sharing online.
Between songs he balanced humor with depth. Rather than canned stage patter, Shaboozey kept returning to personal threads — the immigrant grit and work ethic of his Nigerian parents, the long, winding route he took to feel at home in country music, and gratitude for audiences who’ve followed him from small rooms to arenas. Those moments felt genuine and grounded the bigger showmanship, turning applause into a shared story rather than mere fandom. Reporting on his recent interviews and features confirms he frequently uses onstage moments to talk about family and roots.
He also didn’t shy away from conversation about country music’s history and who gets to sit at its table. In the last year he’s been vocal about the often-overlooked influence of Black musicians in the genre’s formation — a topic that bubbled up in social media moments earlier in the year and that he has addressed publicly. Onstage in Orlando, that translated into gentle but pointed calls for inclusion and acknowledgment, delivered between songs with both warmth and urgency.
The audience in Orlando was refreshingly mixed: younger and older fans, a visible cross-section of races and genders, and a boisterous group of longtime country listeners standing shoulder-to-shoulder with folks who discovered him via viral clips and pop radio. The room’s energy suggested Shaboozey isn’t just pulling from different musical influences — he’s pulling a broader, more diverse crowd into country rooms.
Musically the band was tight — tasteful pedal steel and twang where the songs demanded it, drums and low end that could pivot into trap-informed grooves when a track called for it. Lighting and set dressing leaned vintage-roadshow Americana (appropriate for a tour called the Great American Roadshow). Live recordings and festival appearances from 2025 show a similar balance of roots instrumentation and high-energy staging.
When he touched on historic topics, the set occasionally flirted with sermonizing; some audience members loved the politics-meets-praise-sing vibe, others were there purely for the party. That tension is also part of his appeal: he’s not making disposable hits only — he’s starting conversations from the stage.
Shaboozey’s House of Blues run was an effective snapshot of why he’s become a lightning rod and a bridge-builder at once: undeniably charismatic, commercially potent, and increasingly thoughtful about the cultural conversations his platform can host. The Orlando crowd — diverse and enthusiastic — felt like proof that his music is transcending the old boundaries of country audiences. If anything, the show left you with the sense that his biggest trick isn’t genre-mixing or a viral hook, but making a room that looks different from usual country crowds feel completely at home in a honky-tonk singalong.
The set moved smoothly between stomping party tracks and slow-cook storytelling. Opening with the plaintive, character-driven “Last of My Kind,” he rode through fan favorites — “Anabelle,” “Blink Twice,” “Tall Boy,” “Drink Don’t Need No Mix,” “Vegas,” and “Highway” — before several emotional peaks: the duet “Move On” (with Kevin Powers), a surprising and affectionate cover of Hank Williams Jr.’s “Family Tradition,” the prayerful “Amen,” and the runaway singalong “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” that still commands the room. The Orlando set closely matched the tour’s running order fans have been sharing online.
Between songs he balanced humor with depth. Rather than canned stage patter, Shaboozey kept returning to personal threads — the immigrant grit and work ethic of his Nigerian parents, the long, winding route he took to feel at home in country music, and gratitude for audiences who’ve followed him from small rooms to arenas. Those moments felt genuine and grounded the bigger showmanship, turning applause into a shared story rather than mere fandom. Reporting on his recent interviews and features confirms he frequently uses onstage moments to talk about family and roots.
He also didn’t shy away from conversation about country music’s history and who gets to sit at its table. In the last year he’s been vocal about the often-overlooked influence of Black musicians in the genre’s formation — a topic that bubbled up in social media moments earlier in the year and that he has addressed publicly. Onstage in Orlando, that translated into gentle but pointed calls for inclusion and acknowledgment, delivered between songs with both warmth and urgency.
The audience in Orlando was refreshingly mixed: younger and older fans, a visible cross-section of races and genders, and a boisterous group of longtime country listeners standing shoulder-to-shoulder with folks who discovered him via viral clips and pop radio. The room’s energy suggested Shaboozey isn’t just pulling from different musical influences — he’s pulling a broader, more diverse crowd into country rooms.
Musically the band was tight — tasteful pedal steel and twang where the songs demanded it, drums and low end that could pivot into trap-informed grooves when a track called for it. Lighting and set dressing leaned vintage-roadshow Americana (appropriate for a tour called the Great American Roadshow). Live recordings and festival appearances from 2025 show a similar balance of roots instrumentation and high-energy staging.
When he touched on historic topics, the set occasionally flirted with sermonizing; some audience members loved the politics-meets-praise-sing vibe, others were there purely for the party. That tension is also part of his appeal: he’s not making disposable hits only — he’s starting conversations from the stage.
Shaboozey’s House of Blues run was an effective snapshot of why he’s become a lightning rod and a bridge-builder at once: undeniably charismatic, commercially potent, and increasingly thoughtful about the cultural conversations his platform can host. The Orlando crowd — diverse and enthusiastic — felt like proof that his music is transcending the old boundaries of country audiences. If anything, the show left you with the sense that his biggest trick isn’t genre-mixing or a viral hook, but making a room that looks different from usual country crowds feel completely at home in a honky-tonk singalong.
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