The future hasn’t caught up with Missy Elliott. Nearly three decades after she released her solo debut, the hip hop pioneer brought her first-ever headlining tour to a packed Allstate Arena on Thursday for the opening salvo of a two-night stand. For nearly 75 minutes, Elliott performed as if her life depended on surpassing the energy mustered over the past few days a few miles down the way at the Democratic National Convention.
Pretty remarkable, considering the 53-year-old artist revealed late in the concert that she battled a migraine before hitting the stage and, during the same brief speech, claimed the headache prevented her from being at her best. If true, the breakneck pace and lyrical control she maintained were even more impressive. Elliott also deserves credit for truth in advertising. Dubbed Out of This World: The Experience, the jaunt — which culminates with the Chicago dates — lived up to the lofty promises implied by its name.
The highly visual event presented a series of environments — outer-space galaxies, inner-city streets, rural cornfields, underwater regions, loud circuses, celebratory parades — that Elliott, a squad of 20 dancers, a hype man and a narrator/jester navigated with vibrant flair, panache and color. Did everything make sense or seamlessly connect? No, and nothing suffered because of it. Indeed, the opposite was true. The wild, imaginative leaps only elevated the sense of wonder and delight.
True to her history, Elliott promoted the allure of unlimited possibility and unrestricted creativity. Those facets encompassed a fascinating assembly of inventive costumes. Glitter-encrusted tracksuits, umbrella hats, fluorescent faux-fur trim, graffiti-scrawled jackets, blonde wigs, arm-length gloves, a coat with exaggerated puffy bags and a long train that any bride would envy: Designer fashion shows have nothing on Elliott or her entourage.
Even when sporting a wraparound visor over her eyes or a variation on a motorcycle helmet on her head, Elliott channeled her emotions in the form of glowing smiles that no accessory or dim lighting could conceal. The rapper radiated pure joy and indomitable confidence. She embraced every moment, and carried herself not as a contented legend but as a visionary still eager to prove her merit.
Since hip hop evolves at such a rapid clip, and because Elliott last dropped a full-length LP in 2005, it’s easy to forget the outsized impact she registered on contemporary music and style in the late ’90s and early aughts. That influence began before she issued her first album. Following an initial stint in an all-women group, she took on songwriting and production roles for several leading R&B talents, including Aaliyah, who she remembered from the stage Thursday. Elliott leveraged her behind-the-scenes success to land her own record imprint on a major label — an unheard-of feat during a male-dominant era.
Beginning with her 1997 “Supa Dupa Fly” record, the Virginia native spent the next decade redefining hip hop and breaking glass ceilings. Her singles, albums and videos seemed to emanate from a distant universe. She exploded creative boundaries, advanced avante garde elements, welcomed humor and espoused feminine, sex-positive and healthy body-image concepts largely absent from the mainstream. Elliott dared to be different and, by extension, gave everyone permission to be comfortable with their own identity.
Though the solo records stopped arriving nearly two decades ago as Elliott contended with Graves’ disease, she continued collaborating with contemporaries and adding to a stacked legacy. An array of Grammy, MTV and BET awards preceded a high-profile outing at the 2015 Super Bowl halftime show. The phenom also known as “Misdemeanor” later became the only female rapper inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame. She replicated that accomplishment last year with her induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
That honor often implies the feted artist is ready to settle into the victory-lap phase of their career. Elliott gave no such indication such a thought crossed her mind. Save for one short DJ interlude, the concert unfolded akin to a thrilling roller coaster that feels like it lasts for just a few dozen seconds before coming to a halt. And then, all you want to do is ride it again. No matter when or where you looked onstage, movement ensued. Out in the audience, where LED bracelets — handed to patrons at the entrances — pulsed in sync to select beats.
Elliott and company barely allowed anyone time to process what they saw before another track started or a different setting emerged. A large, curved backdrop screen handled a bottomless grab bag of multimedia visuals that referenced lyrics, advanced loose narratives or nodded to the past. Five ovular lighting rigs doubled as video screens that often projected live footage. A variety of risers, lifts and props provided depth and surprise. For “Gossip Folks,” Elliott floated above the crowd on a circular platform. On “Beep Me 911,” she spun on the mobile equivalent of an ottoman.
Those marked the rare occasions where Elliott appeared somewhat contained. Aside from standing off to the side and admiring the efforts of a Chicago footwork crew that supplied an apt prelude to a cover of “Up Jumps Da Boogie,” she remained in constant motion. Elliott bounded, pranced, strolled, strutted, swayed, shook, swung, stepped. Her vigor mirrored the feverish transitions at hand. She abbreviated a majority of songs. Though focusing on snippets tends to give material short shrift, Elliott used the approach to her advantage by underlining her strident swagger and crafty phrasing.
Syllabic and smooth, crisp and clear, rolled and rhymed: Elliott’s deliveries landed as direct hits to the hips and head. Distinct from a wide swath of younger rappers she influenced, Elliott relied on skill — not bared skin. She wore pants for the entire show and refrained from now-ubiquitous twerking, going as far as sending up the contagious “WTF (Where They From)” as a thinly veiled dig at the cheapening and co-opting of techniques she helped standardize.
Elliott put on a clinic not just with her choreographed interactions with the tireless dance team, but with hypnotic flow that juggled clever onomatopoeia, backwards lines, off-balance rhythms, sing-spoken passages and hyper-speed shifts. She fully backed the braggadocio of cuts like “I’m Really Hot,” “She’s a Bitch” and “Cool Off.” On “Sock It 2 Me,” “One Minute Man” and “Meltdown,” she flipped the traditional script of erotic fantasies to that of a woman’s perspective.
To amplify the party atmosphere and pay homage to her roots, Elliott brought three of her longtime friends — Timbaland, Busta Rhymes, Ciara — along as openers and, later, as guests at the end of the show. Yet Elliott required no further assistance. Visions of her as a space cadet, queen of an underworld and leader of men functioned on an entirely different, and superior, wavelength. Ditto her subtle blending of cues from “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory,” “The Wizard of Oz,” “Mad Max” and familiar theme parks to help orchestrate refreshingly original, whirlwind adventure through the world’s coolest club.
Long may her freak flag fly.
Bob Gendron is a freelance critic.
Setlist from the Allstate Arena in Rosemont on Aug. 22:
“Throw It Back”
“Cool Off”
“We Run This”
“4 My People”
“Sock It 2 Me”
“I’m Really Hot”
“The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)”
“I’m Better”
“She’s a Bitch”
“Gossip Folks”
“All N My Grill”
“Get Ur Freak On”
“Lick Shots”
“One Minute Man”
“Hot Boyz”
“Beep Me 911”
“DripDemeanor”
“Meltdown”
“Bad Man”
“Ching-A-Ling”
“WTF (Where They From)”
“Work It”
“Pass That Dutch”
“Up Jumps Da Boogie” (Timbaland & Magoo cover)
“Touch It” (Busta Rhymes cover)
“Lose Control”
