Glorious, For Real: GloRilla at The Novo 4/15
Image Description: Rapper GloRilla poses with one hand in the air, a mic close to her month, and eyes closed. She is wearing a black one piece suit and fury knee-high boots. Lights beam behind her.
There was not a stiff body in sight at GloRilla’s concert in Los Angeles. There exists a lot of discourse regarding the lack of dancing at concerts and how that motionless energy contributes to an awkward environment, making concerts a less enjoyable experience. What people often fail to realize is that you have to actively create the vibe you seek. GloRilla’s concerts are a safe and liberating space for us to dance. With empowering lyrics for a predominantly female audience and catchy beats, she pushes you to bring out the most confident and unabashed version of yourself.
As someone who listens to many female rappers, I’ve made conscious decisions to see them live. It’s time for female rappers to be recognized for the impact they’ve had on the culture. Many of the ‘slang’ terms we use today were popularized by female rappers – like “cake,” “munch,” “chill,” and “lit” – and TLC gave us “scrub.” However, we must acknowledge that these ‘slang’ terms are appropriated from African American Vernacular English (AAVE). AAVE isn’t slang, it is a dialect with a complex history that is appropriated by people online. Seeing everyone rap along at this concert proved the significant historical impact that Black female artists have had on American culture.
She opened with “Tomorrow 2,” which personally impacted my vocabulary one summer – I called everyone “twinem.” All my friends suddenly became my “twinem,” which I used as an endearing term. “HOLLON” is the revenge anthem, and GloRilla’s aura during this performance was energizing and powerful; it felt like she was joining me in a battle against an enemy. If you’ve ever been afraid to make a risky decision, then listen to “LET HER COOK,” and you will feel so seen. When the crowd chanted, “LET HER COOK,” I felt like I was amongst all my messy ride-or-die friends, who are essential in our youth and friendship connections. Her performance of “Sticky” from Tyler, the Creator’s “Chromakopia” album was reminiscent of the same marching choreography, with the lighting and screens turning green. I absolutely lost my mind because GloRilla comes in so strong – her verse in the song isn’t praised enough. It’s a reminder of the disproportionate amount of artistic recognition between male and female rappers. Then my favorite song to play on Fridays, “TGIF,” blasted through the speakers. I thoroughly enjoyed this setlist; it was incredibly fun, as evident by the playful crowd.
Image Description: GloRilla stands at the top of stairs singing into her mic and is wearing a full black bodysuit with gold embellishments.
Every song felt like an opportunity for you to have your own moment, especially when paired with the flashing lights behind GloRilla. Her set was designed to ensure the audience had a great time. She had multiple costume changes, resisting the policing of female rappers’ outfits and bodies. Conversations about female rappers often center around their bodies and so-called “scandalist” outfit decisions, overshadowing their artistic expression. The choreography and dancers added to the energy. Hip-hop dance celebrates Black culture and acts as liberation from systems that continue to marginalize BIPOC communities. Historically, hip-hop provided a haven and artistic outlet for Black individuals who were excluded from or had limited access to dance studios due to costs or scheduling conflicts. I also want to point out that her dancers were mainly women, along with two men, and they were dark-skinned. It’s powerful for an audience to witness this kind of representation, especially when colorism significantly subjects BIPOC female artists to hate and racism. Musician FKA twigs’ relationship with Robert Pattinson is a clear example of colorism – people couldn’t handle seeing a woman of color with ethnic features dating a White man or being publicly celebrated. Racism wants Black women to conform and be silenced. However, GloRilla basqued in decisions that others look down upon because she refuses to be silenced by racism or suppress her artistic visions.
Image Description: GloRilla sings into her mic on stage at the end of a line with her five dancers pointing at her. They are wearing sweats and a cropped sweatshirt, while the male dancer next her wears striped overalls.
GloRilla also took time in between her set to remind her mostly female crowd to leave abusive relationships. She told everyone, “never let that man put a hand on you,” and calls out domestic violence in her song “I AIN’T GOING.” Black women have historically been at the center of violence; GloRilla rejects these cycles of oppressive violence and uses her platform to remind her female audience that abuse should not be normalized. She is protecting and empowering her audience.
GloRilla’s performance was energizing and empowering. If you are able, please see female rappers live, not just in your car or at a pregame; their artistry deserves more credit than that. If you need to hype yourself up, there’s a good chance GloRilla is delivering those words of encouragement to you.
Dismissing the talent of Black female rappers, specifically, has contributed to the rise of misogynoir – misogyny towards Black women. Online, we can see a disproportionate amount of hate comments policing Black female artists. There was even an increase in men supporting Tory Lanez for shooting Megan Thee Stallion because of the glorification of hate towards Black women. Celebrating these hateful acts is rooted in normalizing acts of violence against Black women.
By choosing to remain silent about your appreciation for Black female rappers, you are enabling these oppressive systems. So go see them live; stop hesitating to loudly celebrate this aspect of Black culture.
