Just when you thought B’Day couldn’t get any louder, a couple hundred people file onto the dance floor at the Brooklyn venue Baby’s All Right for a 20th anniversary celebration of Beyoncé‘s seminal second album. The space is tiny and tightly packed. When the dance break in “Get Me Bodied” hits, there’s barely any space for people to drop down low and sweep the floor with it. The crowd complies, anyway, clashing against each other as the song instructs them to let their hair touch the floor, wind it back. This was always going to be the legacy of “Get Me Bodied,” a vigorous dance mandate on an album meant to be played loud.
Over the past two decades, B’Day has reinforced its longevity. Sure, people can dissect and study the intricacies of Lemonade and Cowboy Carter on a visual and lyrical level, or how she shifted the digital landscape with Beyoncé. These are all records that cemented her as a master of her craft and reinforced her skillset tenfold. But B’Day did it first. It’s the most defining Beyoncé album —— and it came long before it was standard practice to try to define Beyoncé.
On the floor at Baby’s, you can feel the bass in your bones when the sirens blare at the start of “Ring the Alarm.” There are 20 lifetimes worth of anger, betrayal, frustration, and disbelief in the way the room screams out each lyric. Their emotions bubble up and boil over as DJ Miss Milan, who helmed the night alongside Byrell the Great, mixed “Ring the Alarm” into “Hold Up,” the Lemonade standout where Beyoncé asks, “What’s worst, lookin’ jealous or crazy? Jealous or crazy?” “Ring the Alarm” has the lyric “the thought of you just touchin’ her is what I hate most” in one verse and “you ain’t never seen a fire like the one I’ma cause” in the next. She’ll take jealous and crazy.
The transitions across the first half of the set weave a web between eras. “Naughty Girl” is spliced with teases of “Green Light” for just a moment, before switching into the Beyoncé remix of J Balvin’s “Mi Gente” and dropping fully into “Green Light.” The funk-fueled record was produced by the Neptunes, the now-defunct production duo of Chad Hugo and Pharrell Williams. For B’Day, Beyoncé assembled an army of some of the best producers in pop, hip-hop, and R&B at the time — from Darkchild and Stargate to Swizz Beatz, Sean Garrett, and Rich Harrison. Beyoncé works best when she’s putting everyone else to work, challenging them to challenge themselves.
Williams shows up again on “Can I Watch You,” a previously unreleased track that appears on the 20th anniversary extended edition of the album. A few of the added songs were bonus tracks available only on CDs purchased at Best Buy or Circuit City, or versions sold exclusively overseas. After living and growing with the same set of songs for two decades, introducing new material into a remixed and remastered edition should naturally feel slightly disjointed. It’s going to take some work to get used to the new version of “Welcome to Hollywood,” and the disappearance of “World Wide Woman” will likely never be explained. But the blaring “Lost Yo Mind” slides so seamlessly into the track list that it feels both new and nostalgic.
But the deluxe release is a true testament to the consistency Beyoncé has established throughout her career. There’s a solid throughline created by her voice and perspective across each new and original track. Beyoncé has never been the kind of artist to lose her way for an era or two and later find her way back with some necessary reset or return to form. Her vision is too distinct, even in instances like I Am… Sasha Fierce and 4, which added about a dozen more classic hits to her catalog without being particularly strong top-to-bottom records.
There’s no “Diva,” “Ego,” or “Sweet Dreams” without “Upgrade U,” “Kitty Kat,” and “Freakum Dress.” There’s no “Countdown” without “Get Me Bodied.” There’s no Beyoncé as we know her today without B’Day. The record established and embraced her perspective shift between arrogance and confidence; reveled in the intensity of flustered passion; and in the rare instance that she toned it down for a ballad, contrasted those same feelings with an edge of softness and sensitivity. There would have never been so much pearl-clutching around “Bow Down” or so much inquisition around the events that inspired Lemonade if people had listened more closely to the narrative Beyoncé laid out so clearly on B’Day.
B’Day doesn’t make up much of the music Beyoncé performs live these days — the “Déjà Vu” and “Freakum Dress” fakeouts on the Cowboy Carter tour were agonizing teases. This would be a tragedy only if she hadn’t immortalized her tour for the album on The Beyoncé Experience Live, an essential release in the anthology of films Beyoncé has used to archive her decades-long career. It’s a master class in performance built on the strength of songs that were made to define the present moment, but also live far beyond it. B’Day sounds as exciting now as it did 20 years ago, when Beyoncé took over 106 & Park on her 25th birthday in celebration of its release.
Earlier this year, Swizz Beatz told Billboard, “Sometimes timing and hype can make albums feel more prolific and sonically epic, but when that fades away, how does that music look when people move on to different things? B’Day has stood the test of time.” So much of what existed during the initial B’Day era is gone now: 106 & Park, the Jay-Z-owned 40/40 club where Beyoncé partied for her birthday, Circuit City, the MTV channels that would play the entirety of the B’Day anthology video album. But the spirit of the album is completely divorced from trends in consumption, or whatever direction pop was heading at the time. B’Day was built to last.
It’s why hundreds of people will pack into a sweaty club on a Friday night to celebrate its enduring legacy — not just in New York, but also at parties in Los Angeles, Montréal, Nashville, and more cities across the world. DJ Miss Milan dedicated the second half of the night at Baby’s to running through B’Day from top to bottom. Some of the tracks had already played earlier in the night, but playing them in their intended original order lit a fire in the crowd. “Deja Vu” set the tone, “Get Me Bodied” dialed it up, and by the time the set reached “Check On It,” they were screaming every lyric and ad lib at a decibel so piercing it could rival the first five seconds of “Freakum Dress.”
It’s exactly how B’Day is meant to be consumed — as loud as possible for as long as possible.
