Kendrick Lamar and SZA have some of the biggest songs in the world. Kendrick played the Super Bowl after icing out the other biggest rapper in the world. SZA is the co-star of a hit movie, to go with her musical success. Their joint Grand National Tour, which began on April 20, feels like the next logical step toward world domination. But stadium tours are different—like touring on God mode—and, after years of arena shows, it’s the first time they’ve each played the country’s biggest venues. Last night, they welcomed a small city’s worth of fans into New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium to see if they’re up to the task.
The throughlines between SZA and Kendrick’s dual headline sets were power and control, shown through their strong, acrobatic vocal performances, and flamboyant, highly intentional set designs, spread over the course of three hours. Kendrick was a mad scientist, a Broadway-level showman who switched his fits every few songs like a true pop star. (Sometimes he was casual—dirty Timbs, a black beanie, and baggy jeans with intricate patchwork—at other points aggressive in all-camo.) The live show emphasized the theatricality of songs like “Reincarnated,” as he rapped awash in black and white, as if in a classic 2Pac video. As he performed his other very heady GNX song, “Man in the Garden,” with such deep focus, perched atop a Buick Grand National Experimental, I looked around the stadium and felt like it was a miracle that such inward-looking hip-hop could make it to a platform so massive.
If Kendrick’s stage design aspired for realness, SZA’s felt genuinely out of this world. “My ride is here. Say hello to Anthony,” she said after performing “Garden (Say It Like Dat),” as a massive ant emerged from the floor, riding it for a couple more songs. She was just marvelous live, sometimes hitting runs that she might do well to bring to some of her studio recordings. From my vantage point, she outdid her tourmate as far as audience participation, although she certainly had the home field advantage as a Jersey native. A few teenage boys near me yelled, “Oh my God!” whenever she hit a mesmerizing run or impressive dance move on the floor—and she was on the floor a lot.
Those same younger fans didn’t connect as much to Kendrick’s earlier hits. I felt very old rapping along to “Money Trees” and “Poetic Justice” and seeing some blank expressions around me. As much as I enjoyed them, those beats, beautiful and languid, didn’t quite translate to the scale of a stadium. His harder songs were much more effective, namely “DNA.” and “TV Off.” (“MUSTARD!!!!” chanted in unison felt like some sort of ridiculous war cry.) Kendrick’s takes on these songs were fascinatingly all over the place. He rapped “M.A.A.D City,” for instance, over a flip of Anita Baker’s “Sweet Love” and effortlessly blended “Count Me Out” with “Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe,” a good tactic to get through more songs while reimagining them live.
