Azealia Banks @ O2 Academy Glasgow, 18 Sep

Azealia Banks? I sure hope she does. Crammed into Glasgow’s sweaty O2 Academy, the crowd anxiously waits for Azealia Banks, one part queer icon and one part problematic political commentator. Banks is a proponent for some of America’s most unsavory political figures, giving a ringing endorsement for Donald Trump both this year and in 2016 and espousing some highly questionable views about transgender people. Yet Banks’ music still remains ever popular with those who appear to embody her political antithesis. Much like the incongruent nature of her own image in pop culture, Azealia Banks delivers a night of highs and lows. 

After a wait of over an hour past her scheduled stage time, the crowd erupts into an ear-splitting cacophony of screams and whistles, putting far larger venues to shame. Perhaps a product of her delayed appearance, or of the venue’s acoustics, Banks’ opening words are entirely indecipherable over the noise. 

Backed by a display featuring a waving Scottish flag riddled with flickering artefacts and screen tearing, Banks begins to run through her extensive list of club classics. From last year’s single New Bottega to decade-old bangers like Liquorice, Banks brings an unparalleled relentless energy to Glasgow. Only pausing to wipe the sweat from her face in between tracks, Banks is keen to remind us what she’s known for in her unwavering intensity.

Banks refuses to leave whether she is lip-syncing to speculation, introducing a variety of tracks with an a capella rendition, flexing her vocal skills and teasing the crowd with what is to come. This is done to great effect with the set’s final spin – 212. The crowd sings the track’s opening bars as the beat kicks in and the venue vibrates with everyone in attendance jumping up and down in ecstatic joy. 

Despite Banks’ late start, poor acoustics, and admittedly low budget visuals, such technicalities become trivial in comparison to the experience as a whole. The set is short but sweet, not even breaking the hour mark, but this brevity is compensated for by Banks’ discography of infectiously catchy and sexually gratuitous rap bangers. Banks’ performance mirrors her aesthetic: rough around the edges and unapologetically herself, whether for better or worse, and that is something you cannot fault when the end product is still so good.