Little Simz Review – A hip-hop visionary who exudes Gallagher-level swagger | Little Sims

pPop stars often stumble along the fine line between confidence and arrogance (see Taylor Swift’s latest work), but North London rap visionary Little Sims seems to have the perfect balance. If anyone decides to challenge the songwriter’s self-confidence – or as she calls it in the hit single, her “heritage ego” – back-to-back concerts this week prove that her hard-earned place at the forefront of black British music is well-founded.

Before she walks on stage, ’90s baby pictures of younger Sims flash on the pull-down screens, before we’re transported through the years to an eccentric but adorable teenager with her first guitar. All of which brings us to the present, where tonight she is an honorary gentleman in a khaki coat, swinging her arms behind her lower back with exuberant Gallagher bravado: “I missed you!” She radiates joy and gratitude, but the live show doesn’t shy away from her life experiences, confronting the fallout from a messy public financial dispute with menacing metaphors and subtle revenge that easily slide off her tongue.

Enough is a solid highlight, with a stunning, ESG-tinged Factory Records groove driven by bass maestro Marla Keather, whose fluid bass lines and signature bantu knots draw the focus away from Simz for a good few minutes. Acid green strobe lights streak across the arena for Venom, a fan favorite, until grumbling feedback signals a DJ booth to emerge from underground.

Simz switches gears and heads to the decks to perform songs from her EP Drop 7, headphones dangling from one ear and friends gathering around her to hype her up, instantly turning the space into a late-night club. Mood Swings is filled with Drexciya and Detroit techno vibes, as spectators grind and twist with strangers-turned-dancers against 80s music and underwater installations. It’s exciting: few artists can take an entire arena from soulful sing-along to sweaty Boiler Room in the space of just two songs.

The encore features this year’s signature Glastonbury gorilla, scratching and rewinding in classic Yardie sound system style, until Simz really feels like the audience is ready to feel the beat. When a trumpet sample swells, even those sitting down have no choice but to jump to their feet. “Remember one time I didn’t hook up?” Simz screams and laughs in her final closing lyric. It is an assertion that no one here can dispute.