logo
Justin Bieber's Behaviour Backstage at SZA Concert Was ‘Erratic,' Claim ‘Sources'

Justin Bieber's Behaviour Backstage at SZA Concert Was ‘Erratic,' Claim ‘Sources'

Yahoo27-05-2025
Last week, during SZA and Kendrick Lamar's Grand National tour, joined the 'Nobody Gets Me' singer on stage in a show in Los Angeles. The Canadian singer surprised fans by giving an electrifying performance on a rendition of his and SZA's popular collaboration, 'Snooze.'
However, as reported by The US Sun, 'sources' claimed that the 'Peaches' singer, who has been finding himself at the center of several speculations lately, appeared to be 'not fully himself' at the show.
Justin Bieber reportedly showed inconsistent and cryptic behavior at the recent Los Angeles show as part of SZA and Kendrick Lamar's Grand National tour. Per The US Sun, 'sources' told them that throughout the night, the Canadian singer looked 'erratic' and 'disconnected. He was allegedly 'not fully himself.'
In the meantime, a member of the crew from the LA show's production informed the news outlet that Justin Bieber appeared to be 'a ghost walking around.' The person further claimed that the 'Yummy' singer often had conversations with himself and said things that 'didn't make much sense.'
The 'insider' also said to the news outlet that Justin Bieber was having drinks and also 'smoking' right before he placed his foot on the stage. The person went on to claim, 'The kisses at the end felt forced.' They continued, 'like he was doing it to grab attention.' The 'source' further said, 'Backstage, a lot of us were surprised.'
The person continued, 'It felt like the wrong moment for that kind of display, especially with everything going on in his life.' They added, 'Honestly, when he left, we all looked at each other like—this guy needs help.'
Another 'source' close to Kendrick Lamar and SZA's team said, 'It wasn't the Justin we know.' The person continued, 'He kept asking the same questions over and over, like if he had said hi already ten times.' 'He just seemed out of it, like his mind wasn't there,' the insider added.
Originally reported by Nikita Nath on Reality Tea.
The post Justin Bieber's Behaviour Backstage at SZA Concert Was 'Erratic,' Claim 'Sources' appeared first on Mandatory.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Justin Bieber impersonator dupes Las Vegas nightclub, sings on stage
Justin Bieber impersonator dupes Las Vegas nightclub, sings on stage

Yahoo

time2 hours ago

  • Yahoo

Justin Bieber impersonator dupes Las Vegas nightclub, sings on stage

Justin Bieber joined a popular DJ onstage and performed at a Las Vegas nightclub. Except that he didn't. Gryffin, a San Francisco-born DJ and music producer, was performing at the XS Nightclub inside the Wynn Las Vegas hotel on Aug. 16 when he was told that Bieber was at the venue and wanted to perform, he said in a video posted on his Instagram. "His 'team' said he wanted to perform 'Sorry,'" a text overlay on the video read. "Little did I know I was about to be sorry." The Bieber on stage with Gryffin was not the Grammy award-winning singer, but rather an impersonator. The DJ's video added that the look-alike performed on stage for several minutes and "sounded like Justin Bieber." "biebergate2025," the DJ captioned his post. Nightclub says impersonator carried out 'elaborate' dupe Wynn Las Vegas said in a statement to USA TODAY that the impersonator duped the club's staff. "After an elaborate and multi-step ruse by him and his advance team, a Justin Bieber impersonator was granted access to the XS stage," the statement reads. "As soon as the error was recognized, he was removed from the resort and denied future entry." In Gryffin's video, a man with a buzzed haircut, tattoos and sunglasses is seen performing Bieber's hit song, "Sorry." "Bieber in the house, y'all," Gryffin says into a microphone. Following the performance, the video shows Gryffin saying, "That was insane," before someone puts their arm around him and breaks the news that the singer on stage was not the real Bieber. "No way," Gryffin says, to which the individual responds, "Swear on my life." Justin Bieber impersonator denies trying to dupe club In a series of social media posts, a French Justin Bieber impersonator named Dylan Desclos confirmed that he was the onstage performer. Desclos's manager, Julien Colas, said in a written statement to USA TODAY that he went to the club as an impersonator and someone asked if he would like to perform. "We did many performance as impersonator," Colas said. "What have we to won by saying we are the real one? That's not our way to work. Cause, yes, it's a job. We don't want to hurt anyone." Melina Khan is a national trending reporter for USA TODAY. She can be reached at This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Justin Bieber impersonator dupes Las Vegas club, performs on stage Solve the daily Crossword

Jean Dawson: An Interlude
Jean Dawson: An Interlude

Hypebeast

time2 hours ago

  • Hypebeast

Jean Dawson: An Interlude

Jean Dawson is typically in the studio every day from 7 p.m. through 7 a.m., so an 8 a.m. call time fell right in the middle of his REM sleep. 'Waking up today kicked my ass, but it was great. I need that sometimes,' says Dawson, who finds humility in the mundane. Waking up early isn't a foreign concept for a now 29-year-old Dawson, who grew up as David Sanders. He split his time between San Diego and Mexico, having to wake up before sunrise to walk to the bus to the U.S. border, where he and his younger brother Jerome would then wait in line for hours to cross into the States, where they went to school. This was the protocol for four years up until Dawson was in middle school; he's always valued sleeping in after that. He tells me it's a marker of success. It's similar to why the musician values hot showers so much. He didn't always have a water heater in Mexico, so he and his brother would heat water on the stove to bathe. The son of a U.S. Army father, local to Long Beach, and a Mexican mother who divided her days between multiple jobs, Dawson was raised by his mom — who relocated the family to Spring Valley, California, when Jean was 12 — alongside Jerome and his 'chosen brother' and now manager, Nico Hernandez. 'I still remember sitting in the hood on his doorstep smoking Newports in the middle of winter, telling him, 'One day we're gonna see the world,'' Dawson recalls, now just a wall away from Hernandez, who is seated at the front of the studio with their French Bulldog, Mala. The day prior, Hernandez and Dawson saw Swan Lake together, chuckling at the audience members who side-eyed the all-black-wearing, face-tattooed 6'2' guys sitting in orchestra seats at the ballet. Hidden by the facade is Dawson's deep admiration and knowledge of classical music, but he still invites everyone to form their own opinions. Because ultimately, he could not care any less about them. 'Judge me. Perceive me, because that opinion lives and dies with you.' Other people's perceptions have never really plagued Dawson. He knows his discography is so diverse that it's almost confusing. He knows his voice sometimes sounds like he's screaming. He knows other times it sounds like he has a woman's voice — if the multi-instrumentalist could trade one of his talents, it would be to swap out his singing voice for that of a woman's. He has no desire to fit in any box, except that of his own skin. He prefers the in-between. 'When someone asks me what kind of music I make, I just say, 'You tell me.' Whatever you decide is what I am.' It's Dawson's own opinion that keeps him up at night. He reflected heavily on this sentiment the last time we caught up with him, back in October of 2023, fresh off the release of his 'NO SZNS' collaboration with SZA and the end of his European tour with Lil Yachty. His own worst enemy and loudest critic, Dawson is still working on speaking more kindly to himself. Admittedly, it's a work in progress, but he feels like, lately, he's been learning more about himself 'in passing as a result of it.' After putting his sonic fluidity center stage on his debut studio album Bad Sports in 2019, Dawson landed early collaborations with A$AP Rocky on 2020's Pixel Bath and Earl Sweatshirt on 2022's CHAOS NOW* , and a coveted co-sign from Rick Rubin. Dawson, the duality-drenched, highly self-aware polymath he is, never let the big-name endorsements or credits get to his head, continuing to instead continue to exist in his own enigma. He's also been in the cut with Hypebeast and Hypetrak for a while now, first taking us along for a raw and unfiltered first look into his creative process in an introspective installation of Hypebeast: Diaries in early 2023. Donning a vintage RAF Simons 'Altered Reality' work jacket, Dawson took the team to an observation deck in Lincoln Heights, where he did a lot of his early writing, drawing, and lots and lots of thinking — not all of it productive. Today, Dawson is prioritizing the productive thoughts, the positive ones, the needle-pushing ones, and posing to the negative ones: 'Who do you think you're talking to?' He's also donning the same RAF Simons work jacket — but this time, it's not styled quite the same way. How are you? I'm good. I'm in an interesting place. I'm learning a lot about myself in passing. Things I didn't know about myself are now becoming very clear. The things I want to convey have changed, and the way I want to convey those things has changed. How are you approaching making music these days? I feel a sense of wonderment that I haven't felt in a long time, like a kid, where everything is still interesting and making me wide-eyed. The work we do can make you jaded, and I've kind of just stopped caring — in a helpful way. The act of caring for me is very specific; I'm very intentional with what I spend my time caring about. What are you spending your time on now? A lot of different things that I'm passionate about. I'm always making more music, but there are new things that are making me feel a different sense of excitement. I'm writing some film scripts, which has been fun. The other night, when I was falling asleep, I remembered this quote that's been informing everything I create. I forget if someone said it to me or if I made it up, but it goes: 'I feel like I'm everything because I already was by the time they said I couldn't be,' and that has been ringing true to not only my music and my outlook, but the fluidity of me as a person. By the time someone tells me I can't be something, I've already done it. What are your current thoughts on genre and people trying to box in your sound? If I had to give my music a genre, I'd call it ghetto pop. But I've never belonged to any 'genre' in music. I've never belonged to the punks. I've never belonged to the rock kids. I've never belonged to the hip-hop kids. I've never belonged to the jazz kids. I've never been in a clique of things. Because I can migrate from thing to thing, by the time someone tries to box me in like, 'You make rock music,' I'm already onto the next thing like, 'Oh really? Cool!' Whenever someone asks me what genre of music I make, I say, 'You tell me,' because whatever they decide it is, is what it is. One day I want to do Janis Joplin, then the next I want to do The Temptations, and then the next I want to do Jodeci. My music changes because I change. I respect artists who find a sound and can keep pounding at that. I think that's noble and strong. I'm not strong in that way. I get bored. I can't just color with orange. I need black in there. Is it weird having to tap back into past sounds when you're so far past that point in life? Imagine waking up and the only clothes you have in your closet are from high school… It's like that. So I just do my best to put on those clothes that not only don't fit the same, but also just look funny now. A lot of people found me on an album I dropped in 2019, and I had to get comfortable with the fact that that was a time I'll never be able to replace for them. How do you not let the outside noise affect you? It's not that it doesn't affect me. I feel like the only thing I can provide is a smile and a hug, and being a decent human being to those around me before anything else. I heard something special not too long ago: 'Stop acting like the person next to you isn't your brother or sister.' That's how I'm trying to look at the world and myself. I still can be pretty mean to myself, but I've started to defend myself from myself. It keeps me in check. My favorite thing to say is, 'Who do you think you're talking to?' Or I'll think about the child version of myself. 'You wouldn't talk to seven-year-old you like that. So shut up.' One of my favorite sentiments of yours that we discussed in our last chat was 'Your opinion of me lives and dies in your head.' Is that still your mentality? It's that with more care. It's less punky of an idea and more of an acceptance of self. I know who I am, and whether or not someone sees me the same way is up to them. In the grand scheme of things, I think I'm insignificant — and not in a negative way at all. Insignificant in the scheme of everything good and bad in the world, and that principle allows me to explore my creative freedom. What are some things that hold significance to you today? The sky. The ocean. Babies. This is our first time here (that we know of), and I want to treat it as such. I want to stumble. I want to fall. I want to experience things for the first time. This naive, childlike perspective of 'Oh yeah, I can try this' has given me so much room to gallop. Your sound has changed with every project, yet they all still feel connected. Walk me through getting from your first studio album, Bad Sports , to your most recent, Glimmer of God? From Bad Sports to Pixel Bath , that was me going from crawling to walking. From Pixel Bath to CHAOS NOW* was a jog. CHAOS NOW* was the first album I wrote for myself. Every one before that was for my dad. The stars in the track names are fireworks; I didn't want to end my sentences with periods because everything on that album is meant to be continued. It's supposed to feel like a bunch of run-on sentences written in crayon. Then we get to Glimmer of God , which is me speeding up to where I am now. With that album, I wanted to do something I hadn't done. I wanted to start singing for real. So I locked myself in the house and practiced singing. Before that album, I was just shouting. That album is my ode to truth. And my truth was realizing that I'd been mean to myself for a long time, and that project is me letting that go and starting to be kind and sweet to myself. The deluxe version, Rockabye Baby: Glimmer of God , is the end of the story. It's different, but it's informed by everything I've done. What is it that ties all of your projects together? They're all connected by the same throughline. Little secret: pretty much every song on each album connects to a song on the next album. Every album is a more mature version of its predecessor. On Pixel Bath , I had 'Pegasus' and on CHAOS NOW*, I had 'SICK OF IT*'. Those are the same song; one is just better. What was the guiding principle behind Glimmer of God ? The album is about me embracing my duality. I want to embody beauty and grace in music. It's something I think Prince has done best. It's subversive and it's sweet, but it's also strong and masculine. The things I'm learning about myself have been very informed by my ability to bend like that. There's this anime you should watch called Berserk . One of the male protagonists is named Griffith, and he's gorgeous. His hair is always flowing, and he speaks very calmly. Conversely, the other main character is named Guts, and he's the total opposite. He's a warrior. But both characters are essentially the same person, just two sides of the same coin. That's what I wanted the album cover to feel like: glamorous but don't fuck around. Don't play with me. Where does your innate adaptability come from? It all comes from my mom. She let me be everything I was supposed to be. I was very fortunate to have that. One of my biggest life goals is to open an institution where kids can learn instruments. If they attend enough classes, they can keep their instrument and return whenever they want to refresh their skills. Once they graduate from the program, they can come back and volunteer to teach the kids. You don't know where the next Freddie Mercury might come from. He, she, or they might come from Milwaukee. Or East LA. But when they don't have the opportunity to explore their talents, they'll never know. What are some things you feel privileged to experience today? My favorite thing that I get to do is wake up when I'm not tired. That's my marker of success. Also, being able to travel the world with my brother, Nico. I still remember sitting in the hood on his doorstep smoking Newports in the middle of winter, telling him, 'One day we're gonna see the world.' Now, we're sitting in front of the Eiffel Tower. Yesterday we saw Swan Lake . We're just two colored boys with face tattoos from the hood going to see Swan Lake . People were looking at us like, 'What are they doing here?' Don't get it fucked up. I know more about classical music than you do. Judge me. Perceive me. That thought lives and dies with you. But we can watch Swan Lake together. You designed some of the pieces you're wearing today, like the bedazzled hats and the studded Rick Owens Ramones. Has fashion always been something you've tapped into? I've been making clothes since I was a kid. My mom would take me shopping at the thrift store for clothes. I'd always find skinny jeans in crazy colors, but they wouldn't fit, so we'd bring them down to my aunt in Mexico to tailor them. For every pair I gave her, she charged me a dollar, just to keep me responsible. She'd always try and take me to Foot Locker, and I knew we couldn't afford it and would be like, 'Mom, we can go to Walmart.' I'd get these Starter sneakers and would ask her for colored shoelaces. Then we'd go to Joann Fabrics to get gemstones and glue, and I would spend hours designing my shoes. To this day, I'll buy some Balenciaga and fuck it up. Those hand-studded Ramones took me so long to do. Making music doesn't always calm me down, but fashion is something that calms me down. What does making music feel like today? Making music feels like a long kiss. There's something romantic about being lost in it, and there's something romantic about stepping back and observing it.

Many towns are unprepared to handle train derailments and hazmat spills

time4 hours ago

Many towns are unprepared to handle train derailments and hazmat spills

A train derails and spills at least 1,000 gallons of hazardous materials in the U.S. about once every two months. Nearly half of those derailments resulted in evacuations; more than a quarter resulted in a fire or explosion since 2015, an analysis of federal derailment data showed. And many communities along the rail lines aren't prepared to keep people safe when it happens. That's the finding of an investigation by the University of Maryland's Howard Center for Investigative Journalism that reviewed hundreds of rail safety documents and reports and interviewed dozens of industry professionals and first responders. The Howard Center also obtained unprecedented access to rail data collected by a network of AI-enhanced camera sensors, which allowed reporters to track shipments of hazardous materials along 2,200 miles of rail lines between the U.S.-Canadian border and West Texas. That data, provided by a private company called RailState LLC, showed that over the last six months at least 130,000 rail cars displaying placards for hazardous materials moved along sections of rail lines stretching from Blaine, Washington, to Amarillo, Texas. Those cars passed the homes of at least 2.5 million people living within a mile of the tracks, along with more than 1,000 schools and 80 hospitals, the analysis found. 'I think it's fair to say that most communities are probably not aware of what chemicals are going up and down the railroads in their backyard, day in and day out,'' said Jamie Burgess, a hazmat training director at the International Association of Firefighters. First responders often lack the information, training, equipment and detailed planning needed to safely respond in the immediate aftermath of a hazmat derailment. Fewer than one in five fire departments nationwide have their own team of hazmat specialists, according to the U.S. Fire Administration. Confronted with a catastrophic hazmat derailment, local firefighters rely on a web of mutual support — from nearby departments, regional hazmat teams, state and federal officials, and railroad contractors — for the expertise and equipment they may lack. Yet those teams might be hours away, leaving firefighters to handle the unfolding crisis on their own. After a Norfolk Southern train derailed in East Palestine, Ohio, in 2023, it took more than an hour for firefighters with specialized hazmat training to arrive at the scene. 'It's usually the first time that they've ever dealt with something like this, and they're overwhelmed in the beginning,' said Paul Stancil, who recently left his job as a senior hazardous materials accident investigator with the National Transportation Safety Board. 'That was a problem in East Palestine. It's a problem in almost every site.' In 2024, railroad industry-funded hazmat training initiatives reached at least 80,000 first responders, according to industry estimates. But this represents just a fraction of the estimated 1 million career and volunteer firefighters in the U.S, according to U.S. Fire Administration numbers. Jessica Kahanek, a spokesperson for the Association of American Railroads, said rail is the safest way to transport hazardous materials over land, adding that U.S. railroads safely carried more than 2 million hazardous material shipments in 2024. The Howard Center analysis of federal data found 57 derailments in the last decade that resulted in the release of at least 1,000 gallons (3,800 liters) of hazardous material. Twenty-six of those derailments resulted in evacuations; 16 caused fires or an explosion. When such derailments occur, firefighters called to the scene often face a critical problem: Many don't know what chemicals are on board the train and what the exposure risks might be. And federal regulators have delayed the requirement to immediately supply that information. In a letter to federal regulators this month, East Palestine Fire Chief Keith Drabick criticized the delay and urged regulators to enforce a stricter timeline on railroads. 'The 2023 East Palestine derailment in my village highlighted a critical lack of timely communication with public safety about hazardous materials information involved in rail emergencies,' Drabick wrote. Without strict enforcement by regulators, he added, 'I am concerned that the derailment in my community could be repeated.' When communities are unprepared for a hazmat spill, the consequences can be dire. In 2012, a derailment in Paulsboro, New Jersey, sent several tank cars carrying vinyl chloride — a highly toxic and flammable chemical — plunging into a creek. One of the tank cars broke open, spewing a cloud of toxic gas that engulfed the surrounding area. Local police and volunteer firefighters, initially confused about the chemical released, approached the wreck without breathing protection — even standing in the cloud. The initial evacuation area was too small, investigators later found, and many nearby residents spent hours in the exposure zone. More than 700 residents and responders reported symptoms of chemical exposure. A subsequent NTSB report found the poor emergency response contributed to the severity of the accident. 'We've never experienced anything of this magnitude in my entire career,' said Chris Wachter, Paulsboro's police chief at the time of the derailment. 'We were untrained for it. We were ill-prepared for it.' Paulsboro fire officials declined to be interviewed for this story. Emergency officials for Gloucester County — which includes Paulsboro — also declined an interview but said in an emailed statement there has been 'significant improvement' in the capabilities of the county's Hazardous Materials Team and relationships with municipal first responder organizations. Vinyl chloride represents just a fraction of the hazardous chemicals that move regularly on the rails. A Howard Center analysis of RailState's data found that, excluding petroleum and alcohol, the top hazardous chemicals moved by train include sulfuric acid, chlorine, hydrochloric acid and ammonia — all highly toxic, and potentially lethal in high concentrations. Vinyl chloride is a key ingredient in PVC plastic, used in construction and packaging materials. Chlorine is a widely used disinfectant and is used in water treatment plants across the U.S. Sulfuric acid and ammonia make fertilizer used on farms. Many hazardous chemicals can move more than a thousand miles by train from manufacturer to end user, the Howard Center analysis found. Though the disasters in Paulsboro and East Palestine prompted calls for improved hazmat preparedness for firefighters, many departments don't have the resources. Federal funding is a major source of training and equipment for fire departments, but it increasingly falls short of the demand. Money given out by grant programs has dramatically declined in recent years, even as costs have gone up for fire departments, said Sarah Wilson Handler, vice president for grants at Lexipol, a firm that provides consulting services to police and fire departments. In fiscal year 2024, fire departments across the country requested nearly $4 billion in funding from the Federal Emergency Management Agency's Assistance to Firefighters Grant Program, but the agency only made $291 million available. Port Huron, Michigan, can't afford to skimp on emergency preparedness for toxic chemical spills. Located on the Canadian border, the city of 30,000 sits across the St. Clair River from what locals call 'Chemical Valley,' where dozens of chemical plants and oil refineries are clustered in Sarnia, Ontario. Many of these chemicals are exported to the U.S. According to the St. Clair County emergency operations plan, it's the second-most highly trafficked border crossing in the country for toxic chemicals. Over the last six months, RailState data showed an average of 450 train cars with hazardous material placards passed through a mile-long tunnel that runs under the St. Clair River between the U.S. and Canada. A placard indicates the car is loaded with hazardous material or contains hazmat residue. In 2019, a Canadian National train derailed inside that tunnel, spilling over 12,000 gallons (45,400 liters) of sulfuric acid. The response counted on a web of support from local and state agencies, railroad hazmat specialists and Canadian authorities, all under the direction of the Environmental Protection Agency. But the future of federal support — including the grant money the county hazmat team covering Port Huron relies on — is uncertain. President Donald Trump has repeatedly questioned the future of FEMA, and the federal disaster agency has seen severe cuts and staff departures in recent weeks. Port Huron Fire Chief Corey Nicholson said federal dollars ebb and flow, but he's worried about the potential for funding cuts. When grants dry up, spending on hazmat gear and training gets harder. 'Do I spend my money on the single-family dwelling fires that I know are going to happen that are high risk, high frequency? Or do I spend money on a bunch of equipment that I'll probably never use?' Nicholson asked. 'There's so many mouths to feed and there's only so much money to do it with.' ___ Aline Behar Kado, Paul Kiefer, Alaysia Ezzard, Ijeoma Opara, Menna Ibrahim, Molecule Jongwilai, Marijke Friedman, Josephine Johnson, April Quevedo, Tiasia Saunders and Declan Bradley of the Howard Center for Investigative Journalism contributed reporting and data analysis for this story. ___

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store