Poor Benson Boone.
The internet has decided he’s public enemy number one, and I’m not convinced half the people making fun of him even know why. Scroll through TikTok or X for long enough and you’ll eventually find someone admitting they “don’t even know why” they hate him—it just feels right. That’s not criticism. That’s a group project.
Because here’s the thing: Benson Boone can sing. Really sing. He’s got a three-octave vocal range, a Grammy nomination, sold-out tours and Beautiful Things has racked up over two billion streams. Even an Old Gold & Black article defending him admits his songwriting is still developing, but argues his success is built on genuine talent, not some elaborate industry conspiracy. It also concedes his music is often called formulaic, but argues that’s simply because ballad-driven pop is one of the industry’s most successful sounds — noting Shawn Mendes, Lewis Capaldi and Dean Lewis faced identical criticism early on.
I agree.
Which is exactly why Benson Boone worries me.
Not because he’s ruining pop music, but because he’s exactly what pop music rewards now.
Rolling Stone recently described songs like Beautiful Things as sounding less like pop songs and more like auditions for The Voice. Once you notice it, you can’t unhear it. Quiet piano. Vulnerable verse. Then, almost on cue, comes the massive octave jump. Rolling Stone argues this has become part of a recognisable blueprint—songs are engineered to reach their emotional climax within the first minute, just long enough to hook listeners before they scroll away.

Sweety High, ITV
It’s not just Boone, either. Alex Warren does it. Teddy Swims does it. Every second emotional pop hit suddenly feels like it’s performing for an invisible panel of judges sitting somewhere inside the TikTok algorithm.
And that’s the problem.
We’ve become so obsessed with music that grabs us in the first 45 seconds that we’ve forgotten some of the best songs aren’t supposed to. They grow on you. They surprise you. They take risks. Boone doesn’t lack talent—if anything, he has enough talent to escape the formula. Instead, the formula keeps finding him.
The weirdest part? Beautiful Things has now become a go-to audition song on The Voice, with contestants copying Boone’s vocal delivery almost note for note. Somewhere along the way, authenticity became something you could replicate.
None of this is really Benson Boone’s fault. If the industry keeps rewarding songs built for algorithms instead of albums built to last, why wouldn’t artists keep making them?
Benson Boone isn’t ruining pop music.
He’s just the clearest proof that pop music stopped asking to be ruined a long time ago.

Benson Boone flipping, Billboard