Waka Flocka Flame
Photo by Reid Rolls
Turn up better, Waka Flocka Flame
Lincoln Theatre, Raleigh
Saturday, June 27, 2015
A “Pyramid of Moisture” is exactly what it sounds like—a 5-foot pyramid stacked with many of the twerk-sweat-soaked women Waka Flocka Flame invited onstage for his large living room party on Saturday night at Raleigh’s Lincoln Theatre
. Waka loves the ladies, it seems, unless they pull out their smartphones while he’s trying to party with them. Then, they’re getting booted back into the crowd, as they were Saturday.
Admittedly, my Waka Flocka fandom only goes as far as repeated watches of the “Rooster in My Rari”
video. But the spectacle of a human-sized rooster dancing and hanging out in Waka’s Ferrari offered enough sensory overload that I never thought to listen. Supposedly, the song is about Waka having a woman in his car. But now I know better: The song is definitely about having anal sex on Xanax, a topic that surely would have made for an insightful discussion during Waka’s pre-show meet-and-greet on Saturday night.
Too bad for the suckers who shelled out the extra $25 for the private gab, though, as they could have just met Waka when he spent 20 minutes of his set moshing through the audience. I watched as the Flockaveli
rapper carved out a mole trail through the thicket of fans. He accepted their drunk hugs and pushes to the sound of Lil Jon’s “Turn Down For What” and Machine Gun Kelly’s “Wild Boy,” which features Waka.
Unless you knew Waka’s catalogue, though, you wouldn’t have known which songs were his, as he never actually performed much of anything. He rapped one or two lines from each number on his set list, favoring instead a mixture of derelict antics like ad-libbing fleeting segments of hits like “Hard In Da Paint” or violently shaking his dreads and throwing water into the crowd while “No Hands” played. At one point, Waka gave up doing a show altogether, choosing instead to sit in front his DJ’s Macbook and scroll through “old-school music.” He played Montell Jordan’s “This Is How We Do It,” stood there, looked at the crowd and began browsing his phone. He was as apathetic to the music he was supposed to be rapping as he was to his security detail, noticeably annoyed when they had to shield their star from the crowd’s overly eager Brick Squadians.
When you add up all of Waka’s concert shenanigans—the attention-deficit hyperactivity, the inability to perform a song, his all-play-and-no-work attitude—it computes that his Flockaveli 2
LP has been indefinitely postponed after two years of bogus release dates. Remember how Waka Flocka wants all of us to take his candidacy for president of the United States seriously?
If he can’t even deliver a full version of “O Let's Do It,”
what could he possibly offer at an inauguration speech?