THE PEOPLE’S SETLIST: EMINEM’S 2026 WORLD TOUR LEAVES ONE MAJOR HIT BEHIND, AND FANS ARE SAYING, “YEAH, THAT TRACKS”
OP-ED: Planning the setlist for a legacy artist’s world tour is a high-wire act of nostalgia, relevance, and personal sanity. You have to play the hits—the songs that are the very reason thousands of people are paying to see you. But what happens when one of those massive, undeniable hits is a song the artist himself has grown to… well, *dislike*? That’s the scenario unfolding for Eminem’s upcoming 2026 world tour, as a fan-voted poll has solidified the “Must-Play” list (we all know ’em: “Lose Yourself,” “Stan,” “Not Afraid,” “The Real Slim Shady”), but with one glaring, fan-driven omission that Em himself just confirmed: Justin Bieber’s “Love Yourself,” which he famously co-wrote. And his explanation for its absence wasn’t an excuse; it was a mic-drop of artistic integrity that left the fanbase nodding in unanimous agreement: “Yeah, that tracks.”
The fan poll was a masterstroke of engagement, a way for Eminem to ensure his stadium shows are a direct reflection of what his dedicated base wants to hear. The results were as predictable as they are exhilarating—a greatest-hits package that reads like the tracklist of *Curtain Call*. These are the anthems that defined a generation, the lyrical marvels that cemented his legacy.
But nestled among his own classics was a curious entry: “Love Yourself,” the minimalist, acoustic pop smash by Justin Bieber that dominated the airwaves in 2015. The song is a open secret in the music industry; co-written by Eminem (under his real name, Marshall Mathers) along with Bieber and Ed Sheeran, it’s a testament to his versatility as a songwriter. Fans, proud of their hero’s behind-the-scenes success, have often clamored for him to acknowledge it live, perhaps in a stripped-down, humorous interlude.
This week, Em addressed it head-on. In a typically blunt, no-BS video message to his fans, he said:
“Look, I saw the poll. I appreciate the love for that song, for real. It’s dope that y’all know I had a hand in that. But c’mon. We’re in a giant stadium. You’re gonna mosh to ‘Till I Collapse,’ you’re gonna lose your minds to ‘Without Me,’ and then you wanna hold up a lighter to me singin’… that?” He paused, letting the absurdity of the image sink in. “Nah. That’s Justin’s song. He killed it. That’s his lane. My lane is… well, it’s a different kind of highway. We’re here to rage, not to gently sway. It wouldn’t be right. It’d be… weak.”
The response from the fanbase wasn’t disappointment; it was a wave of respect. Comments sections were flooded with versions of “He’s 100% right” and “I’d be low-key embarrassed if he did that.”
His explanation was perfect because it was utterly authentic to his brand. It wasn’t about dismissing the song’s quality; it was about respecting the context of his own show. An Eminem concert is a cathartic, aggressive, high-energy experience. Inserting a gentle, introspective pop song he didn’t even perform on would be a tonal wrecking ball. It would feel like a gimmick, a distraction from the raw power of his own artistry.
By leaving it off the setlist, Eminem did something crucial: he protected the vibe. He prioritized the cohesive, explosive energy of the live experience over a cheap, crowd-pleasing novelty act. He reminded everyone that while he can write a pop hit for someone else, an Eminem show is for the songs that could only ever be performed by Eminem.
And the fans, who understand the difference between a songwriter and a performer, agreed completely. Yeah. That tracks.
