How Usher Became the New King of Vegas

But the Usherssance fully washed over us last summer when he sang stripped-down versions of his hits for NPR’s Tiny Desk series. Usher was as warm and charming and perpetually youthful as ever, dressed like someone who had beamed back into the Matrix. The performance was ostensibly a celebration of his second album’s 25th anniversary, but really it was a celebration of one man’s continued dominance: Old music from Usher is better than new music from almost anyone else.

“I went to Tiny Desk and I literally sang my classic records,” says Usher. “And people loved it.” NPR listeners voted it their favorite Tiny Desk of the year, with 14 million views and counting. But it was his “Confessions Part II” flourish, framing his face with sideways peace signs and whispering “Watch this,” that was too extra to not go viral.

It’s—forgive me—10 o’clock, on the dot, and Usher and I are in an SUV cruising the streets. There’s a 40-foot-tall version of Usher in front of me on an LED billboard advertising 2023 dates for Usher: My Way, the Las Vegas Residency. The real human-size version is next to me, wistfully staring at the Bellagio fountain show as traffic slows to a crawl. “Singin’ in the Rain” plays as plumes of water burst into the sky, twirling and twisting in concert, and Usher just sort of mindlessly sings along.

You see, Usher believes in Las Vegas, like someone who saw the glamorous first hour of Casino but not the subsequent stressful two hours of Casino. For Usher, Vegas is a place of renewal, a place of rebirth. The healing powers of Vegas have baptized him and made him anew. “Las Vegas is very important because it actually speaks to my career, to be in a place where I can dream, where I can incubate ideas,” he says. “A place where I can be creative.” Onstage, that means that he’s putting on the biggest, most brazen show of his life. Offstage, nothing is off-limits: He’s riding his Vegas high and wants to pursue brand collaborations, restaurants, fashion, jewelry, skin care, makeup. Me, dumb, thinks it’s depressing to make every part of yourself consumable. Usher, smart, doesn’t see it that way. “You can do so much!” he says optimistically. “The question is: Is it aspirational? That’s the thing.”

When Usher speaks, his ideas unfurl in dreamy monologues, long stories, dramatic lectures. At one point, he talks about that frustrating period of his career, about how the industry was putting R&B in a box. “It’s not hip-hop enough, it’s not current enough, it’s not TikTok savvy, it’s not memeable,” he says. “That shit can be frustrating for an artist who is all about passion. I literally want to go and sing and perform for audiences.”

Middle age has made him more ruminative; doing the show made him more intentional about his purpose. “I’m feeling inspired again, to now launch new music and also to continue to keep this phenomenon going,” Usher says. “It’s just really been about celebration of entertainment, celebration of the standard that was set by these incredible guys”—names like Prince, Michael Jackson, Gene Kelly—“who inspired me.”