Just before he walks out to ear-piercing screams, in an all-white outfit set off by the same diamond chain he wore earlier that day, the last lines of the “My Way” chorus blare from the speakers. Without giving away too much, Usher’s grand entrance hinges on a sly, crowd-centric interpretation of the song for which the residency is named. To my left, standing nearly within reach of the stage, a woman in a silver monochrome outfit-sequined dress, metallic sneakers, princess tiara, and all-danced to Trap Beckham’s twerk-inducing “Birthday Bitch,” before pausing briefly to adjust the pageant sash draped across her chest, which proudly identified her as USHER’S #1 FAN. The venue seats just over 5,000 people, a far cry from the 20,000-plus fans who have piled into a sold-out Madison Square Garden to see Usher over the years.

“We’re getting ready to light this bitch up,” he said.Ī few hours after our conversation, in the giddy run-up to the show, I watched the crowd swell into the Dolby Live. He reminisced about the early days of planning the show.

He told me that without the burden of packing up a set, hopping onto a tour bus, and assembling it all over again across the country, he could run wild with My Way. This time around, he would have an even larger venue, and he wanted to do more than a standard concert. In July of 2021, he became the first Black male singer to hold court at the famed Colosseum at Caesars Palace. Usher was fresh from a full-body workout when we met. Much of his own family would be in the sold-out audience, along with fans who’d traveled from around the world to see him break into the famous “U Remind Me” shadow choreography, sway his way through “You Make Me Wanna …” in a satin robe and leather pants, and strip the set bare to let his “Can U Handle It?” falsettos float. That night was a big night for Usher, an unveiling of sorts: the first official performance of the new leg of My Way, his residency at the Park MGM hotel and casino in Las Vegas. It wasn’t until he removed his sunglasses midway through our interview that I felt the weight of his celebrity, his innate sense that any room he walks into is distorted by his magnetism. He strode into the room diamonds first, a thick chain around his neck sparkling against an all-black backdrop of sweat suit, sunglasses, and durag.

Into this uncanny scene walked Usher, the veteran R&B musician with a discography so obviously peerless that his only viable Verzuz competitor is himself. I waited for him on a couch in the middle of the afternoon, leaning back against gold-lamé throw pillows, feeling as though I’d stumbled into a therapist’s office decorated to look like a strip club. “The teal room,” as Usher and his team call it, is where the artist will later celebrate the spring kickoff of his new residency. Along the far wall, light strips flank the liquor-covered bar, illuminating a step-and-repeat covered with $100 bills bearing Usher’s likeness. The space itself, a storefront-size chamber tucked away from the Las Vegas stage where he would perform that night, is awash in an almost eerie, LED blue. I don’t mean that in a figurative sense, though the megastar certainly does luminesce in his own way. The room where I’m set to meet Usher is glowing.

My way usher chords