Make no mistake about it: you may look at Doja Cat, but you cannot touch. In the opening-night set for a string of UK arena dates, the LA-born artist raps, sings, twerks, and eye-contacts her audience into ecstasy, shrouded by flames and numerous hay bales apparently made from hair. And yet throughout it all, she remains at an artfully controlled distance, pausing only once to directly address her crowd. “I won’t sing Hilary Duff this time”, she quips, referencing her attempt at Manchester’s Parklife to rally a nonplussed Gen Z crowd into a nostalgic singalong. “I’ve learnt my lesson there.”
In the last few years, Doja’s rise to arena-level fame has been fraught with several teaching moments. She’s been outspoken about social media and mental health, about parasocial relationships with fans, and about her decisions to use her fourth album ‘Scarlet’ to show that whilst she can do ‘cash grab’ R&B-pop with the best of them, her heart – and talent – truly lies in rap.
In this spirit, her show begins with a pretty impeccable run. ‘Skull & Bones’, ‘Acknowledge Me’, ‘Shutcho’ and ‘WYM Freestyle’ blow most rappers’ entire pyro budget in a scene-setting 15 minutes. Before ‘Demons’, a giant braid descends from the ceiling, with a mic hanging from its end. She rips through the song with impervious venom; there’s more flames with a rendition of ‘Tia Tamera’ which somehow manages to go even harder, feeling more like something you’d see headlining Download Festival than Coachella, which she did in April.
A truncated version of ‘Say So’ is also dropped early. It’s the first and only time in the show where she lets her own vocal drop in favour of hearing the audience sing, breaking character to smile at what she hears. It’s a kindness to give us her biggest hit, but as she puts her game-face back on for ‘Attention’, it’s clear that more acerbic rap is the lane in which she truly feels like her most powerful self.
An easy, athletic performer, Doja doesn’t often get enough credit for how much technical presence she has. Even when navigating some of the most rhythmically complex songs in her arsenal, her timing and theatricality is impeccable. A kick of her white boots synchronises with flash of fireworks, and her eyes sarcastically widen and blink innocence in the split-second before a particularly profane punchline or guitar howl. In her white fluffy bikini and extra-long wig, the overall effect feels a little bit Midsommar-meets-WWE, equal parts feminine-horror and macho-camp.
To ration out her stamina, however, Doja does have to concede to her softer side. The boom-bap jazz of ‘Balut’ and ‘97’ go down well enough amongst committed fans, but there’s a noticeable lull in overall captivation when she delves into some of her more laidback tracks, particularly when she croons ‘Streets’ and ‘Often’ into a mic on a long braided stand. It’s a long, if necessary, lull but when ‘Ain’t Shit’ reignites the spark once again, she gets one of the biggest reactions of the night; ‘Paint The Town Red’, lit in the titular colour, is a home run, even if her vocals feel a little buried in a gloriously-wild, guitar-heavy stage mix that emphasises the melodic stems of the iconic ‘Walk On By’ sample.
All that is left to give is the final act. ‘Wet Vagina’, ‘Scarlet’’s breakout track, is possibly the most authentic that Doja Cat has ever been, a lewd rap-rock hybrid that somehow manages to feel both empowering and mildly threatening. There’s no encore, and there doesn’t really need to be; if you can send a pack of feral teenagers into the night chanting a song like that, you’ve clearly done something right.
With no special guests, costume changes, or elaborate VT interludes, something about Doja Cat’s performance feels quite knowing in its decisiveness, a way to enforce further boundaries by holding some things back. There is no ‘Best Friend’, no ‘Kiss Me More’, no ‘Woman’ – no real sense that Doja Cat is somebody with any interest in topping the singles charts or becoming a family-friendly household name. But what you do get from her is a seamless show trimmed of all the fat, one that aims to celebrate the lane of her own artistic satisfaction, unbothered by those who do not see her skill. When it’s working this well, why shouldn’t she do things her way?
Doja Cat played:
‘Acknoledge Me’
‘Shutcho’
‘WYM Freestyle’
‘Demons’
‘Tia Tamera’
‘Gun’
‘Piss’
‘Okloser’
‘Say So’
‘Get Into It (Yuh)’
‘Go Off’
‘Balut’
‘Attention’
’97’
‘Need to Know’
‘MASC’
‘Streets’
‘Often’
‘Can’t Wait’
‘Agora Hills’
‘Rules’
‘Ain’t Shit’
‘Paint the Town Red’
‘Wet Vagina’