Tyga

02 Academy, Bristol | May 30th

The theme of tonight’s stage design is ancient Egypt. It’s decorated with plastic statues of a Jackal-headed sphinx and an LED-lit pyramid that’s miniature in size, presumably in proportion to the 5”6 rapper who’s about to arrive. On the backdrop, the visuals projections show gold painted bikini clad babes with AK-47s diving out of flames, along with footage of hysterical teenagers swearing that Tyga is the hottest rapper in the game right now.

It’s an awesomely grandiose, unintentionally hilarious intro. But can the Young Money star really sustain the hype for an entire hour? Analytical rap critics have slammed Tyga for his shallow lyricism, wafer-thin persona and scoffed at the credibility tarnishing skeletons in his closet (listen to his Pete Wentz produced mall-rap debut from 2008 at your own peril). But it’s an accepted universal truth that his breakthrough twerk anthem Rack City is a fucking banger. He knows how to ride over a ratchet-style club beat, and it’s the sparse, 808 handclap-heavy tracks from his new album Hotel California – Dope, Switch Lanes, Get Loose – which dominate the powerful first 20 minutes of the set.

When the DJ switches from party tunes to mellower material, Tyga swaps the thematic trinity of women, drugs and money for introspective lyricism while sat on a white leather bar stool. It’s an undeniable mid-set droop. Luckily, that classic DJ Mustard beat drops, signalling that it’s Rack City time, although understandably, Tyga looks like he’d rather never hear the track again. Right now, the ‘Molly rap’ gimmick looks like it’ll seem about as cool as Nelly’s cheek plaster in two years time. But judging by the rapturous crowd response to his ecstasy-worshipping set-closer, Tyga has succeeded again in making the spotlight turn his way.

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Words: David Reed