The Weeknd’s After Hours ‘til Dawn Stadium Tour is a crafted experience

Walking into BC Place for The Weeknd’s show, I could feel a buzz in the air before I even stepped inside. The energy was unreal. 

Tens of thousands of fans streaming in, decked out in black and red, XO hoodies, and sequined jackets, ready to witness the artist’s long-awaited return to Vancouver. It had been years since his last stadium show here, and from the first second, you could tell this wasn’t just another stop on the tour — it was an event.

The stage alone was something out of a sci-fi dream: towering cityscape silhouettes, dystopian red lights, and a long catwalk stretching deep into the crowd, drawing everyone in. Even before he stepped onstage, it felt like we were being pulled into another world — a place somewhere between the dark, lonely hours of After Hours and the surreal broadcast glow of Dawn FM.

That atmosphere only built as long-time producer and collaborator Mike Dean took the stage for his moody, synth-heavy opening set, which played out across the stadium and set a cinematic tone that would carry through the night.

When The Weeknd finally appeared, the crowd absolutely erupted. From where I stood, it was like a wave of sound and light crashing forward. He opened with “Take My Breath,” and it hit like a statement — dramatic, pulsing, and larger than life. His voice cut through the air perfectly, backed by production that was both over the top and strangely intimate. Flames shot up, smoke curled around him, and the massive LED screen turned every movement into a music video.

What surprised me most was how well the setlist flowed. There were the megahits, of course — “Starboy,” “Blinding Lights,” “Can’t Feel My Face” — but there was also real attention paid to emotional pacing. 

“Die for You” and “After Hours” slowed things down, offering breath-catching moments of intimacy, even in a stadium of around 50,000 people. The transitions were so smooth that it didn’t feel like we were watching a concert. It felt like we were being guided through a story. Every light cue, every visual, every beat seemed deliberate.

One moment that really stood out was when he performed “I Feel It Coming.” As soon as the opening notes hit, the crowd lit up their phones, and suddenly the entire stadium sparkled like a field of stars. It felt like time slowed down — just Abel Tesfaye, his falsetto, and this glow of shared experience. For a second, it didn’t matter where you were sitting or whether you came alone or with friends, everyone was locked into the same feeling.

The visuals were equally unforgettable. The red and black palette, punctuated by bursts of white light, created a post-apocalyptic Vegas vibe, especially when the cityscape behind him seemed to flicker and burn. At one point, it looked like the entire skyline was collapsing behind him, only to be replaced by digital fog and glowing moons. It was beautiful and eerie and somehow perfectly suited to the emotional duality of the music.

Beyond the performance itself, the logistics were smooth. BC Place handled the massive crowd with ease, entry was quick, merch lines were long but moved fast, and the cashless setup actually made things simpler. Even the sound quality was impressive, which is no small feat in a stadium that size.

Leaving the show, I had that rare feeling you only get after truly great concerts, like you were part of something. The Weeknd didn’t just play a set of hits, he crafted a full experience. He took us into his world, held us there for nearly two hours, and then sent us back out into the Vancouver night buzzing, dazed, and grateful. This wasn’t just another show, it was a memory stamped in neon, smoke, and sound.