Though there were some lulls in the overall flow of the stage show, and an 11 p.m. start time kept millennial fans up well past their Tuesday night bedtime, it was all worth it every time she gave a wink of those bright eyes and a flash of that big pearly white smile.
Fans showed up right on time for doors at 8 p.m. and the concourse halls of American Airlines Center swirled with concertgoers clad in their best pink fashions. Many took advantage of street vendors’ pink light-up cowgirl hat offerings, but most didn’t have to because they’d been planning their outfits for months. Some even made their own garments to adorn themselves head-to-toe in a completely one-of-a-kind look.
She has no problem carrying a show on her own, but Nicki Minaj fans (the Barbz, as they’re affectionately known to the world at large) bring a special element of enthusiasm and devotion to the mix. Though they’re rightly known to be an especially vicious online fandom who will go to far lengths to defend their queen, Nicki fans certainly know how to party.
The mood was high, the excitement was palpable and the vibe was convivial. When legendary New York hype man DJ Boof warmed up the crowd and instructed fans to look to their left, then to their right and introduce themselves to the people around them, it felt like shaking hands in the congregation pew at the most high-energy church service you could imagine. Everyone in the room was automatically bonded in the thrill of anticipation to see Minaj take the stage.
Back-to-back opening sets from Afrobeat artist Skillibeng and the trap-crooning model-slash-rapper BIA did well to get the crowd hyped as they filed into their seats. But third slot opener Tyga really brought the energy up with a set of his biggest hits.
Starting with his signature single “Rack City” and running through Chris Brown collaborations “Ayo,” “Deuces” and “These Hoes Ain’t Loyal,” Tyga had the audience singing along word for word. But the high point of Tyga’s set was the blast-from-the-past “Bedrock,” the Young Money ensemble record that harkened back to the early days of both his and Minaj’s entry point into the mainstream music world.
DJ Boof followed Tyga and kept the room on its feet with singalongs of millennial-era radio rap favorites from the likes of Soulja Boy and Keyshia Cole. (There’s nothing like the sound of thousands of people belting out the latter’s modern-classic R&B ballad “Love” in unison.)
Some attendees created their own custom looks for the Nicki Minaj concert in Dallas.
Vanessa Quilantan
After DJ Boof’s 40-minute set, the waiting game began. The crowd stalled with their faces in their phones for about a half hour before Nicki Minaj took the stage at 11 p.m. As the lights came down, the stage lit up with the image of a digitally rendered 3D likeness of Minaj helming a 757-size pink airliner and puffing a huge spliff. “This is your captain speaking,” her voice rang out over the venue, announcing an impending touchdown in Dallas.
The view of the plane descending from puffy pink clouds upon neon skyscrapers amid a sugary sweet surrealist urban landscape evoked the magic of Gag City, the fictional setting where Minaj’s Pink Friday 2 album lives. It’s a futuristic girly-pop world of glitz and glam — home to the Barbz of past, present and future. It’s Tokyo-inspired, but drenched in femme fantasy for the fanbase that’s granted the queen of rap the highest-grossing tour revenue of her 17-year music career.
Minaj started her set strong to uproarious applause. In a fire-red bob wig and a matching body suit that glowed green in the dark, she took the crowd through recent cuts “FTCU,” “Barbie Dangerous” and “Beep Beep.” The audience shouted along with her to the words, “High heels on my tippys, Dolce & Gabbana that’s on my titties!”
But after about four songs, Minaj left the stage for a costume and set change that lasted a little over three minutes. This was a recurring pattern through the first two acts of the show, cut with five different interlude pauses that felt too long to keep the evening’s flow consistent. Through the first hour of her performance, Minaj spent nearly half the time offstage.
Her looks were incredible, and she looked absolutely stunning after each break. But the visual packages during these pauses were not compelling enough to keep fans from sitting back down to check their phones, or head up and down the stairs for runs back and forth to the bathroom or the bar. The stop-and-start format did a disservice to what should have been a more immersive experience into the world-building that went into Gag City.
Nicki Minaj stunned the Dallas audience in head-to-toe Selena-purple custom Gucci.
Vanessa Quilantan
Act Two ended with a powerful collection of Minaj’s beloved rap ballads — her singular style of elegant R&B/pop fusion melodies and romantic hooks strung together by her incomparable rap prowess. It’s an approach to songwriting that she blazed a trail for from the beginning of her career, executed beautifully and doesn’t get enough credit for originating. Donning a gorgeous pink gown, Minaj cooed and smiled at her adoring fans through hits “Fallin 4 U” and “Right Through Me.”
The third act ran about 40 minutes without interludes, and closed out the show with a lively marathon of back-to-back bangers “Super Freaky Girl,” “Anaconda,” “Starships” and “Super Bass.” Minaj brought out her openers to perform the remix of “Whole Lotta Money” with BIA, a shortened cut with Skillibeng and a throwback to the 2009 Young Money single “Roger That” with Tyga.
Minaj ended her set with a rendition of “Moment 4 Life” that brought tears to the eyes of many attendees, and gave goodbyes on an energetic note to the bass-bumping “Everybody,” the up-tempo Pink Friday 2 track sampling Junior Senior's 2002 dancefloor staple, “Move Your Feet.”
Despite the lulls, Nicki Minaj lit up American Airlines Center with her joyful charisma, cheeky sex appeal and playful spirit. She may be controversial at times with searing social media rants, public overshares and loudly divisive opinions — but artists are supposed to be eccentric. That’s something we’ve forgotten as a culture in the age of internet respectability politics, where celebrities are so afraid to make waves and face blowback that it actually makes them terribly boring.
Nicki Minaj says herself of the overly sanitized climate of public persona and internet fan engagement on her hit single, “Chun-Li": “They need rappers like me / So they can get on their fucking keyboards / And make me the bad guy.” And she proved without a doubt last night at American Airlines that pop culture absolutely needs entertainers like her.
