Little Simz, Southbank Centre, Meltdown Festival, London review • DIY Magazine

Midway through Little Simz’s set at the Southbank Centre, she reaches out to fist bump Chris Cameron, conductor of the Chineke! Orchestra. He gives a thumbs up and turns back around. “I’m trying to spud him but he’s not getting it,” Simz says with a smirk. It’s one of the many moments of joy tonight between two musical forces.

A sense of occasion hangs in the air pre-show as dry ice plunges onto the stage flooded with the 42-strong Chineke! Orchestra; a collective who champion Black and ethnically diverse classical musicians. The evening also marks the finale of Simz’s own Meltdown Festival takeover, an honour typically reserved for artists of a certain vintage - think David Bowie, Grace Jones, Nile Rodgers, and David Byrne. Despite being just 31, Simz feels entirely deserving of the task. Not only has she worked with an enormous pool of talent, making her an ideal curator, but her journey from spitting bars at school and cutting her teeth at the city’s youth clubs to mainstream stardom is a London success story; the historical Thameside venue makes for a perfect setting.

Things kick off with the military snare roll of ‘Introvert’, and Simz slowly appears from stage left as the crowd simmers in flashing red lights. The song’s epic orchestral manoeuvres allow the huge ensemble to flex its muscles, and the results are impressive: here, the band and orchestra mix fluently, giving enough room for Simz to spit her statement of intent while the song’s hook (“Sometimes I might be introvert”) spells out the initials of her first name, Simbi. She manages to rile the seated audience into an arm bop, and it isn’t long until the theatre is on its feet.

New material from ‘Lotus’ - the latest addition to her already sparkling canon of work - chronicles Simz finding light in the dark after a dispute with close collaborator Inflo; Simz sued the producer back in January after he failed to repay a loan of £1.7m. Imagery of sharks and snakes stalk the songs, which manifest in the venom charging through Simz’s flow on ‘Thief’, bleeding directly into the thrilling industrial warble of ‘Flood’.

“I’m so pleased we can play this album for you tonight,” Simz says. “But first of all, let’s throw it back.” On her cue, the strings strike-up the doe-eyed ‘Two Worlds Apart’ which holds the audience accountable to some thrilling call and response; then, 'Marijuana' and 'Kendrick Lamar' are both belted out without restraint. The set shimmies between the light and dark at an expert pace. Pure joy erupts throughout the cathartic ‘I Love You, I Hate You’ and the double dose of guest Obongjayar on ‘Lion’ and ‘Point & Kill’. ‘Free’ and the hypnotic Latin shuffle of newbie ‘Only’ offers oxygen to the lighter moments, bobbing atop the orchestral flourishes rising behind her. These songs feel elegant, floaty and weightless in the live setting; it’s pure bliss.

The Queen Elizabeth Hall is a seated auditorium in practice, but the logic of a Simz show defies its purpose. As the band reset after a fierce rendition of ‘Venom’ - which starts off with Simz in the conductor box - a ripple of people start to nestle back into their seats. “What are you sitting down for?” she laughs, shaking her head as the groovy bars of fun throwaway ‘Young’ spark up. “Na na na, you’re not allowed to do that.” Simz is gifted at riffing with the audience, flitting between humorous and charming asides like these, to open-hearted vulnerability. “This song makes me uncomfortable,” she says ahead of the delicate ‘Lonely’. “Sort of like opening a letter in front of somebody it’s addressed to - but I think I can trust you guys,” she adds.

You catch the feeling that much of Simz’s catalogue is built for this specific grandiose set-up; a touch of theatrics always underpins her work, as is evidenced on the back and forth of ‘Blood’. Wretch 32 emerges from the corner of the amphitheatre as the pair play out a phone conversation between two siblings. They end up back-to-back, centre stage, as Cashh sings out the song’s hook and entrances the crowd into a sea of arm waving.

Judging by the darkness surrounding the new material (which drips with a loss in confidence, pain, and betrayal), it’s a wonderful thing to see Simz claw back what’s rightfully hers. The set caps off with the confessional lullaby ‘Selfish’, the anthemic ‘Woman’, and a thunderous rendition of ‘Gorilla’ - a triple threat if there ever was one. The latter sparks pandemonium, and in referencing one of her earliest bars penned aged 11 - “Sim, simmer, who’s got the keys…” - it marks a real full circle moment. Each thread loops back to the start of her career, sees her back in the city she has conquered, and finds her back at the top where she belongs. It's a spellbinding return.

Tags: Little Simz, Reviews, Live Reviews