Review: Kendrick Lamar live at the First Direct Arena in Leeds

Thursday’s show at Leeds Arena began with the world’s biggest rapper sat solemnly at a piano before trudging to the centre podium and delivering rapid fire lines while contorting a ventriloquist dummy of himself to mime along, all before the crowd bellowed out the refrain of ‘I grieve different’.

Nope, Kendrick Lamar’s isn’t your average hip hop show.

The current Big Steppers tour takes place following the Compton MC’s seminal performance at Glastonbury, which saw him work through a chronological odyssey of his sublime back catalogue while cherry picking in between from his morose, deeply personal new record, Mr Morale And The Big Steppers

It was a compelling performance, not least with its biblical imagery and collective of impressionistic dancers, but stuttered at times and had a lack of cohesion that could be forgiven, being that it was his first full show after a long hiatus on the biggest stage going.

Kendrick Lamar at Leeds First Direct Arena

On this current tour though, the fine tuning has been put in place and rather than a show directed by the magnitude of the moment, it is one constructed diligently to encapsulate the current state of this uniquely perceptive and extraordinary artist.

The show maintained the striking elements of minimalist performance art that stood out at Glastonbury – most notably the dozen accompanying dancers that stomp, glide and gesticulate on a selection of tracks – but adds subtle props, lighting and stage dynamics to put the self-analytical tracks from Mr Morale… front and centre.

Kendrick’s dizzying ability is contrasted with his understated presence. One of the most arresting images comes during the second track N95 when a stone-faced Lamar conducts the opening singalong of ‘Hello new world, all the boys and girls, I’ve got some true stories to tell’, before rampaging through three scintillating verses.

The watertight 28-song performance is also assisted with the recorded voice of Dame Helen Mirren admonishing Kendrick for his vices to imbue the running narrative, which – like much of what defines Lamar – is not always clear but highly captivating nonetheless.

The condensation of so many tracks does see some favourites like DNA and Swimming Pools cut short, but with such a surfeit of outstanding songs it’s not long before any feeling of loss is gone.

Old tracks are given new life by the visuals, with Element and Money Trees benefiting from the monochrome imagery and m.A.A.d city and Humble seeing the dance collective using flashlights and pugnacious stomping respectively to add to the drama.

Startling visuals of Kendrick with arrows in his back and lights descending around him from the ceiling during Crown instantly captivate. However the decision to play Alright, which took on its own life as a protest anthem, immersed in a protective cube and after taking a mock COVID seems a particularly bold, if not questionable move.

Utilisation of props like a chair and bed add to the personalised feeling before Kendrick’s own cousin (and support act) Baby Keem arrives to dual with him through an electrifying family ties.

The pulsating Mr Morale, assisted with a good deal of pyrotechnics and his other support act Tanna Leone, and Saviour end the near two-hour set before Kendrick gives his thanks, having hardly stopped during the near two-hour set other than to reluctantly bask in the crowd’s understandable adulation.