Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.
A sold-out Frost Amphitheater set the stage for a night that felt like a full-circle moment — not just for Shawn Mendes, who revisited old but great hits at Stanford, but for the thousands of fans who showed up, many of whom grew up listening to him during their awkward teenage years. The crowd was a mix of students and the general public, bundled up against the October chill but buzzing with excitement as Mendes took the stage for the penultimate stop of his “On the Road Again” tour.
Kicking off the evening was Australian singer Eddie Benjamin, whose smooth, soul-leaning set included a few songs he helped craft for Justin Bieber’s “Swag” and “Swag II.” His falsetto-filled performance and polished production set the tone for the night — a preview of the intimacy and craftsmanship to come.
When Mendes finally stepped out in a long-sleeve shirt, jeans and lace-up shoes, the crowd roared. He greeted them with a grin that felt both familiar and new — the same charm that made him a star in the 2010s, but more grounded, more mature, with time and growth. Launching into “There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back,” he immediately had the audience singing every word.
What followed was an electric blend of nostalgia and evolution. “Wonder,” “Treat You Better” and “Monster” drew the loudest reactions, with fans shouting lyrics so loudly that Mendes could lean back, smile and let the crowd carry him. He played freely with the audience, too. During “Treat You Better,” he invited fans to sing the opening line, “I won’t lie to you,” before responding, voice low and teasing, “Yeah, you won’t.” The line sent Frost into a collective scream.
Throughout the set, Mendes took time to connect. Between songs, he spoke candidly about what inspired them — moments of heartbreak, losing loved ones, growth and rediscovery. Right before performing “Youth,” he tried to share what the song meant to him and how he was encouraged by this generation, before a handful of fans started chanting, “Take it off! Take it off!”, referencing his long-sleeve. Mendes laughed, shaking his head. “Haha, no,” he said with a grin. “It’s a bit too chilly for that.”
That mix of sincerity and playfulness defined the night. Mendes’ band members, whom he often brought to the front of the stage, radiated chemistry, their interactions effortless and genuine. Songs from his newest album, “Shawn,” like “Heavy” and “Heart of Gold,” showcased the collective artistry of the group. It felt less like a pop production and more like close friends jamming, the kind of comfort that only comes with real connection.
That said, the universal nostalgia still ran deep. Every pre-2020 hit — from “Lost in Japan” to “Stitches” — stirred something in the crowd. I found myself singing lyrics I hadn’t thought about in years, realizing just how much this music once meant to my awkward, daydreaming teenage self. Mendes’ voice, steady and soulful, made it feel okay to live in that memory for a while.
As fireworks burst during “In My Blood,” the night closed on a high that felt both personal and universal. It didn’t matter if you were a longtime fan or someone rediscovering his music, Mendes made Frost Amphitheater feel like one big, open-hearted singalong.
Even on a chilly fall night, with rain threatening in the distance (and eventually finding me on the walk home), the show felt bright, joyful, grounding and full of warmth. Shawn Mendes didn’t just perform at Stanford; he reminded us what it means to grow up with an artist and to meet them again years later, only to realize they’ve grown up too.
Walking out of Frost, I kept thinking about how certain artists linger — maybe not with their repertoire in constant rotation, but somewhere in the background of who you’ve become. For me, and for the thousands of voices singing along that night, Mendes is one of those artists. And for a few hours at Frost, we all got to relive the sweet nostalgia of our youth.