What will a BTS fan do for the band that they love?
They will fly 22 hours to see them perform. They will queue all day to drop hundreds of dollars on merch. They will postpone their wedding date to accommodate the band’s “ARIRANG” tour schedule, as one woman’s homemade sign revealed.
They will also brave hours of torrential rain.
By the time I walked through Rogers Stadium’s gates on Saturday night, the downpour was relentless. Thunder crashed in the periphery, and every flash of lightning elicited screams of dread from the tens of thousands of fans waiting for the venue to confirm their fate: would BTS have to cancel the show altogether?
After a weather delay required folks to clear the metal grandstands for safety, many huddled for cover in Terminal 81, a tent that had been converted into a massive BTS merch store. Trudging through puddles and mud, the stadium’s “Fan Plaza” was now a mess of ponchos and umbrellas turned inside-out by the wind.
And yet, packed together and soaking wet, throngs of fans were joyfully singing along to the terminal’s BTS playlist as if the show had already started. It was an optimism perhaps borne from years of anticipation. The last time the South Korean sensations performed in Toronto was in 2015, before they had become a global phenomenon. Back then, they played the 1,350-capacity Phoenix Concert Theatre. In 2020, they had a Toronto date scheduled, but the tour was cancelled because of the pandemic. In 2022, the band went on hiatus so that each of its seven members could complete their mandatory service in the South Korean military.
Now, after reuniting and releasing their fifth studio album “ARIRANG,” the band had scheduled two sold-out nights at the 50,000-capacity Rogers Stadium. This would be the only Canadian stop on their 88-date worldwide tour, and it seemed that BTS fans, known as ARMY, simply wouldn’t entertain the idea of another cancellation.
At 7:45 p.m., 15 minutes before the show was supposed to start, a wave of screams erupted across the Fan Plaza. “Good News,” Rogers Stadium flashed a message on its screens, “the show will continue as planned.” Pandemonium followed as lineups bottlenecked and hoards of fans rushed to their seats.
By the time BTS walked on stage at 8:25, rain was coming down in sheets over the open-air stadium. “It’s cold, but it’s not like, cold, cold” one fan told their concerned mother over FaceTime. “At least we get to see Jung Kook soaking wet,” another told their friend. There’s that ARMY optimism, for you.
Flanked by dozens of dancers and dressed in characteristically runway-worthy outfits, Jin, RM, Suga, Jimin, J-Hope, V, and Jung Kook brought the elation to a fever pitch as they kicked off a two-hour, 23-song set list. They wove rap, funk, R&B and electronic music into their distinct K-pop tapestry, punctuated by pyrotechnics and world-class visual direction.
It should come as no surprise that a band that has built so much intimacy with their fans through screens — reaching every corner of the world via vlogs, social media and livestreamed performances — has mastered the art of reaching every corner of such a massive stadium. There was a robust camera setup, each member nailing every angle and cue for the jumbotrons as much as they were connecting with the fans directly in front of them. Whoever was in the director’s chair leaned all the way into the ARMY ecstasy, often pausing on a member’s face for a seconds-long beauty shot. A wink, laugh or kiss blown to the camera was enough to evoke Beatlemania-level decibels of euphoria.
On paper, BTS crosses every item off the boy band checklist: irresistible pop hooks, impeccably tight choreography, model-like looks, a frenzied fandom. But their live show is a reminder of their reputation as industry disrupters. The first Korean act to top the Billboard 100, they’ve continuously challenged long-held, misguided notions of English-language dominance in the pop world. Fresh off boycotting the Grammys for the addition of a Best Asian Pop Music Performance category, they’ve proven their self-sufficiency and influence in the industry. And on Saturday night, they got Rogers Stadium to reconfigure its setup with a 360-degree stage, for the first time ever. As each of the seven members spread out across the stage’s four runways, it was an effective visual reminder of the way the band has always written its own rule book for fan connection.
And their fandom was a main character of the evening. Their official name, ARMY, stands for “Adorable Representative M.C. for Youth,” and they’re considered by many to be the biggest and most organized fandom in music.
If you’re wondering who ARMY is, the cameras turned on the audience at the end of “IDOL” to reveal the breadth of that answer. Children held up signs about this being their first-ever concert. Seniors cheered for their “bias” (a K-Pop term for your favourite member in the group). One couple held up a sign that read: “Astronomers Love BTS.” A woman danced along with her elderly parents. A baby sported noise-cancelling headphones.
But along with their diversity, ARMY might also be among the kindest of modern fandoms. As a journalist, I’ve been fortunate to attend some of the biggest pop shows in the world — Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Bad Bunny, Lady Gaga. But I’ve never seen the level of community and camaraderie that was on display at Rogers Stadium.
“Are you alone, too?” a young woman from Quebec City asked, inviting me to join her and another solo concertgoer she had met in line. From the moment I stepped onto the subway, there were fans offering BTS key chains, band member playing cards, and handmade souvenirs.
Perhaps it’s a result of excessive ticket pricing, or a symptom of social media’s main character syndrome, but general show etiquette has degraded to the point that Olivia Rodrigo and Noah Kahan are asking fans to not soil themselves, and spoil the show for others, in order to keep their spot in line. Within this context, it’s especially refreshing to be surrounded by more community-driven fan values.
It’s certainly a reflection of the friendship modelled by the BTS members themselves. While there wasn’t a hair out of place throughout the show — quite literally, Jimin’s blond locks somehow seemed impermeable to the rain — the band left room for moments of silliness and connection with each other. During “Body to Body,” they shared laughs between dance moves. As they walked around the stadium for “IDOL,” they’d sling their arms around each other with ear-to-ear smiles. When it started to pour, once again, during their two surprise songs (“Outro: Wings” and “Dope”) they erupted in a chorus of “It’s Raining Men.” As performers, they strike an impressive balance between meticulous and playful.
They also struck the Toronto and Canadian chords just right. Not only did they nail the “Toronno” pronunciation, but in the final leg of the set, members rocked various nods to Canada. V wore a cap with the Canadian flag, Suga had a flag patched onto his shirt, and RM wore a Maple Leafs Jersey, affectionately referring to Toronto as “Maple City.” He told the crowd that some “Toronto Maple Leafs legends” had taught him and Suga how to play hockey, and that a local boat captain had given him the hat that he was wearing after a lake cruise with J-Hope. Every local anecdote was met with enthusiasm.
Planes flying overhead could’ve looked down at a sea of coloured lights, all moving in unison throughout the evening. When you think about the fact that each of those lights came from a $69 light stick, you start to understand why experts are putting ‘ARIGANG’ spending in the same conversation as the FIFA World Cup.
For their final goodbyes, the members mostly spoke in Korean, with a translator helping to bridge the language gap. Many of them echoed the same things: ARMY appreciation, a love for the rain, concern that their fans might catch a cold. (Cue the “awws” from the crowd.)
“Nice weather, ain’t it?” RM joked.
“We’re going to never, ever forget this night.”
As rain poured down on the crowd, and on each of the seven members of the biggest band in the world, everyone with smiles of gratitude across their faces, you couldn’t help but believe him.
