My name is Malaika and I have a question. I've heard that the first step in getting over an addiction is to admit that you have an addiction. It starts out small and harmless. Beyoncé released her seventh solo studio album, Renaissance, last summer. I was hooked almost immediately.
Beyoncé's international tour for the album was just as exciting, making it a very expensive habit. I didn't get to see her once. This is multiple. Somehow, I went from trying to grab a ticket to see their first North American show live in Toronto to my third show to get closer and closer to this musical icon.
As I rushed through the Atlanta airport to catch a last-minute flight to Tampa, with nothing but prayers and the essentials in the pockets of my high-waisted jeans, I realized I had entered another level of frenzy in the hive. How did I get here?
It starts with the Renaissance album itself.
As Beyoncé celebrated her 20th anniversary as a solo artist, I marveled at her evolution. While most artists stagnate in their later years, the Houston native just keeps getting better. her singing. your experiment. She is dedicated to black musical arts and subcultures. All this culminates in the gift of the Renaissance.
She writes songs that geographically and sonically elevate every corner of black music, drawing on genres we love, from house parties and HBCU homecoming to picnics and queer dancehall, from Washington, D.C. to queer dancehall. to Detroit. She brought them to the world stage, regardless of their potential for commercial success.
For a month I only played this album. There is always a new melody, a new sample or a new sound effect waiting to be discovered. Songs are constantly rotating with new favorites. “Renaissance” is an infectious energy injected into our veins after two years of fear and despair in a world shattered by pandemics and police brutality.
R&B goes dark and minimal, melding with our shared TF stay-at-home energy. Then there's Beyoncé, whose maximalist way of freeing us from her chrome horse brings us every sound from the sweatiest dance floor. She begged us to hang out like the neighbor's best friend urges you to play when you're home. I am not enough.
Fortunately, even some friends don't feel like it's enough. After learning that Beyoncé was going on a Renaissance tour, we devised a strategy: We each signed up for tickets in different cities to increase our chances of getting to just one show. Miraculously—that is, a friend bought a ticket to Toronto—we ended up there.
R&B takes a darker and more minimalist turn, reflecting the collective mood of staying at home. And then there's Beyoncé, with her extravagant approach, delivering every imaginable sound from the wildest dance floors. She implored us to hang out, much like a childhood friend enticing you to play when you're home alone. But sometimes, it just doesn't feel like enough.
Thankfully, I'm not the only one who felt this way. When we heard that Beyoncé was embarking on a Renaissance tour, my friends and I hatched a plan. Each of us registered for tickets in different cities, hoping to increase our chances of attending at least one show. Remarkably, one of my friends secured a ticket for the Toronto concert, so that's where we ended up.
There was a time, right after finishing graduate school, when I seriously considered abandoning my plans to attend law school and pursuing a career as a full-time dancer. During those two years, the background image on my cellphone featured Beyoncé and her iconic duo of dancers from her Sasha Fierce era. It was a mobile vision board, guiding me toward what most dancers consider the pinnacle of their professional journey.