Once upon a time, there was a boy named Justin Bieber, with a sweet voice, shy look, and slicked hair who, at the age of 13, exploded with My World 2.0 one of the wildest musical careers of the 21st century. That boy - discovered on YouTube by Scooter Braun, an executive who saw in him the future of global pop and many zeros behind - soon became a massive phenomenon. His singleBaby oxygenated charts, ignited hatred and passions, and sowed a legion of beliebers around the world.
What followed with Justin Bieber, as almost always happens with teenage idols, was a roller coaster of success, excesses, image changes, and finally, a forced pause. Number one songs, scandals filmed by paparazzi, and a cascade of personal crises — from arrests and addictions to the collapse of his physical and mental health under public scrutiny —, to an abrupt tour cancellation in 2022 due to a neurological disorder that caused facial paralysis. It seemed like Bieber's story was about to become a melancholic fable of contemporary pop. The media tic-tac of "and now... what will happen to JB?" was almost a journalistic genre in itself.
His musical silence lasted four years, months marked by rumors, conjectures, and contradictory versions about a star clearly in decline. And then came Swag. Without previous singles or promotional videos, just an image on billboards, Bieber released his seventh studio album in July 2025. An album with a mix of sophisticated R&B, 80s synthetic textures, and an unexpected intimacy that forces the listener to listen carefully, beyond the radio hit.
With Swag and its sequel, Swag II, Bieber not only broke streaming records - on its first day on Spotify, listens reached around 75 million - but achieved what few veteran artists achieve: making headlines again. The reactions on social media were not only from fans: many saw in this release the maturity of an artist who has learned to coexist with his shadows.
But if there is a gesture that encapsulates this cultural phenomenon, it is this: in mid-December, Justin Bieber posted a video on Instagram from Lucky Strike Lanes, the bowling alley in Los Angeles where the music video for Baby was filmed 15 years ago. There, dressed in an oversized gray t-shirt, he sang a capella the chorus of the song that launched him to stardom. The clip went viral and unleashed a wave of global nostalgia: not only did it bring back memories of entire adolescences, but, above all, it showed an artist who does not shy away from his roots but embraces them with affection and a sense of humor.
That scene sums up why Bieber remains a generational icon today. Few contemporary figures condense so many milestones of pop culture in their collective biography —from posters on walls to ironic memes on social media— like him. His voice accompanied puberty, breakups, and graduation parties. Quite something.
In 2026, the anticipation surrounding his career is presented with a different tone than before. It is no longer just about chart-topping hits, but about an artist who knows how to handle his public narrative: from rehearsals and sessions on platforms like Twitch, to his confirmed presence as a headliner at the Coachella festival, one of the most coveted stages. Meanwhile, speculations about a world tour in the new year continue to grow, although he recently confessed to "not feeling ready" to do more than one show or two in a selection of countries.
Bieber himself has spoken in numerous interviews about his internal battles, his imposter syndrome, and the struggle to find "peace and dignity" outside the spotlight. After marrying model Hailey Baldwin and becoming a father, he seems to have reached a point of creative and personal serenity by incorporating faith and family into his healing journey. In his recent Christmas posts, the artist appears rehabilitated and with an explicit desire to change the industry from within. We will see if that's the case.