Bon Jovi at MSG – Night 4: I Wanted to Believe…

July 14, 2026 – Madison Square Garden New York, NY

Okay, I'll admit it: I bought these tickets back in January with my stomach in knots. I've been a fan since Slippery When Wet—my first cassette, my first concert. When Jon went under the knife in 2022, I told myself I'd be okay if he never sang again. But then came the Forever album, then the tour announcement, and I caved. I had to see for myself.

So here I am, sitting in Section 115, Row 14, Seat 8, watching seven guys take the stage. The band: Jon, of course, plus David Bryan (keys), Tico Torres (drums), Hugh McDonald (bass), Phil X (guitar), Everett Bradley (percussion/vocals), and John Shanks (guitar). Solid players, all of them. But let's be honest—every time I look at Phil X, I see the ghost of Richie Sambora.

For those keeping score: the original Bon Jovi lineup was Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, David Bryan, Tico Torres, and Alec John Such on bass. Alec left in 1994, Richie walked in 2013. Now it's Hugh and Phil X filling those shoes, and it's just... different. That ghost haunted me all night.

One thing that did catch me off guard, though: Tico Torres. Man, the guy looks old. Up on the big monitor, he seemed almost crooked—hunched over his kit, face weathered, moving like he's held together by tape and stubbornness. But you know what? He impressed me. At 72, the guy still hits those drums with a precision and power that made me sit up straighter. He's not flashy, but he's the backbone. I found myself watching him more than Jon for a few songs.

They opened with a Beatles cover—"With a Little Help From My Friends." Cute. Inspirational. Also a little too on the nose, like they're begging us to clap for the comeback. I clapped anyway. Because I do want to help.

The setlist (21 songs, give or take):

1. "With a Little Help From My Friends"
2. "Beautiful Drug"
3. "We Weren't Born to Follow"
4. "Lost Highway"
5. "Who Says You Can't Go Home"
6. "You Give Love a Bad Name"
7. "Born to Be My Baby"
8. "Legendary"
9. "Whole Lot of Leavin'"
10. "In These Arms"
11. "Have a Nice Day"
12. "It's My Life"
13. "Livin' on a Prayer"
14. "Lay Your Hands on Me"
15. "Blood on Blood"
16. "Living Proof"
17. "This House Is Not for Sale"
18. "I'll Be There for You"
19. "Wanted Dead or Alive"
20. "Bad Medicine"

(Encore, obviously—they didn't leave us hanging.)

Now, the elephant in the room: Jon's voice. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. It's thinner. Wobblier. The high notes in "Prayer"? He didn't even try—just pointed the mic at the crowd and let us carry the weight. Smart? Sure. But also a little sad. This is the guy who once shattered glass with his pipes, and now he's leaning on a backing track's worth of help from Everett and David.

And yet—damn it—he still commands. The leg kicks, the winks, the way he leans into the spotlight like he owns it. He does own it. At 64, he's got more charisma than most frontmen half his age. I found myself smiling against my will during "Wanted Dead or Alive." The acoustic intro still gives me chills. But then I'd look at Phil X shredding that double-neck and think, that should be Richie. And the chills turned cold.

That got me spinning all night: does Richie even deserve to come back?

On one hand—absolutely, musically. The guy co-wrote "Livin' on a Prayer," "You Give Love a Bad Name," "Wanted Dead or Alive." Without him, these songs feel like karaoke. An insider once said 65% of Bon Jovi's sound was Richie's—honestly, that feels low. He apologized in the Hulu doc for how he left, even if he stood by why. Jon admitted he was "heartbroken." That's not nothing.

But then I remember: he walked out mid-tour. No warning. Left Jon scrambling. And just this month, he posted on X: "Are you deaf? It didn't sound good. He doesn't want me there. The surgery didn't work." He's trashed Jon's voice, said "there's no brotherhood left." Sources call them "oil and water." Jon went through hell recovering, and Richie's response was basically "told you so."

So does he deserve a hero's welcome after that? Honestly? No. Phil X has been there since 2013. He's earned his spot, even if he's not Richie.

But—and here's where I get emotional—when Phil X played that double-neck, I closed my eyes and heard Richie. That sound is Bon Jovi. And watching Tico look old and crooked up there made me realize: these guys aren't getting any younger. If they're ever going to bury the hatchet, the clock is ticking. Sometimes deserve has nothing to do with it. Sometimes it's just about what's right. And watching them apart just feels wrong.

Look, I'm not here to trash this show. It's a good show—tight, professional, the crowd ate it up like Communion wafers. But I'm not eager to call it a "victory lap." To me, it feels more like a farewell lap dressed up in optimism. Jon thanked us for "letting him have this," and I believed his gratitude was real. But gratitude doesn't replace the missing fire—and it doesn't make Tico look any less crooked up there, even if he's still got my respect.