2017 was a massive year for Solána Rowe, better known as the singer SZA. After almost quitting music and procrastinating so heavily that her record company confiscated her hard drive, her debut album, Ctrl, was finally released in June. It was worth the wait.
The album, an intimate and funny mix of R&B, hip-hop and soul, has been a phenomenal commercial and critical success, finishing the year among many “best album” lists (including ours) and seeing two of its singles certified gold.
The same year, she had a video directed by Solange; collaborated with Kendrick Lamar on a song for the new Black Panther movie; had Drew Barrymore appear in another film clip; and was called a “fluke” by Jay-Z, to her face – a characterisation she agreed with.
It is atop this wave of success that SZA played her first solo Australian show on Sunday night, at the Enmore theatre in Sydney.
Debate rages below clips of SZA’s live performances. One side says her frenetic stage presence, which can include dancing, high-kicks and jumping, comes at the cost of her singing. (“I feel out of breath for her. My chest hurts,” one YouTube commenter writes.) The other side is adamant that any loss of breathing control – any singing imperfections – is evidence of the artist giving it her all, and only adds to her charm.
SZA’s performance at Enmore puts the fears to rest. She is indeed hyperactive – bouncing, dancing, jumping her way around the stage – but the show is joyous, captivating and brimming with energy.
Although a little out of breath at times, she mostly sings with confidence and power, producing sublime moments especially in some of her slower songs. She also shows an impressive versatility, adding ad-libs and vocal runs and taking on Chance the Rapper’s verse from their track Child’s Play.
SZA’s frank and personal lyrics dwell on themes of insecurity, rejection and love, and the sold-out crowd – a lot of them young women – hang off her every word.
They swell in support when she dedicates her song Garden (Say It Like Dat) to her former self, saying that she felt that sometimes she didn’t recognise who she was from one day to next. They roar “yes!” when she asks “Do you guys wanna talk about pussy?”, before singing Doves In The Wind. Her younger fans manage to sing along while simultaneously dancing and filming her.
At just an hour, the performance is short, but given her limited discography – only two EPs and an album – that length made sense. All but two of the tracks she performs are from Ctrl and she acknowledges that’s what most people are there for.
Yet to tour extensively, SZA performs like someone who is not only thankful for but genuinely enjoys every moment on the stage, and the feeling is contagious. She shares anecdotes that inspired songs, offers wisdom (“please don’t do what the fuck you don’t want to do, and bring enough weed in case you have to do what you don’t want to do”), gives shout-outs to fans she has previously met and borrows one lucky person’s phone to record a selfie video.
SZA ends the show with one of her lesser known songs, which deals with the indecision and insecurity of being in your mid-20s. Heartbreaking and hopeful, and one of the purest examples of her vocal talent, it’s a fitting end to a performance that confirmed her as a brilliant entertainer as well as singer, and makes it almost laughable that she ever doubted herself.
