A$AP Rocky’s Xfinity Mobile tour stop was a Hollywood-style production.

A$AP Rocky was always primed for stardom.

In his 2011 breakout “Peso,” the Harlem-bred rapper declared his love for Raf Simons and Rick Owens couture, but also flashed a sound that shed the regional barriers that once confined hip-hop artists.

The song’s Southern chopped-n-screwed coda over early cloud rap instrumentals, combined with the lo-fi distortion of Memphis’ underground ’90s sound, ushered a new wave of New York rap that favored nuance over boom-bap traditionalism.

Rocky also looked the part. His camera-ready smile, coated with polished gold grills, and his brash arrogance mirrored the likes of fellow Harlem rap legends Cam’ron and Mase.

That showmanship has remained unchanged, as was evident on Thursday night as the lights flickered around 9 p.m. inside Xfinity Mobile Arena on the Philadelphia stop of the “Don’t Be Dumb” tour. Fans jetted to their seats, pulling out their phones, and aiming it at the stage to anticipate Rocky’s arrival.

It was all a ruse. Rocky was never going to open his show on that stage.

Instead, he came down from a prop helicopter suspended in the middle of the arena, and landed on a makeshift helipad adorned with the Tim Burton-designed cover of his 2026 album, Don’t Be Dumb.

The mosh pit went into a tizzy as a crew of actors dressed in military gear stood as a barricade between Rocky and his fans at the arena’s center.

He kicked off the show with “Grim Freestyle” and “Highjack” in the crowd, then disappeared into an exit. He reappeared perched atop a platform hovering above the crowd, with a mic lodged inside a speakerphone, performing rave-fueled tracks like “Helicopter.”

He finally marched onto the stage, backed by his faux militia of ski masked guards, to perform “A$AP Forever” and “Stop Snitching,” before simmering things down with the slow jam, “Playa.”

During the slight break in the high-intense action, Rocky apologized for shoving one of his fans earlier in the pit.

“I got made mad because one of y’all was recording me, and I pushed you. My bad, little bro. You’re good,” he said.

Through the show, Rocky fully leaned into large-scale SWAT and military-themed theatrics, decked in all-black tactical wear, with zipper-lined cargo pants, an AWGE-branded puffer vest, and a ski mask. The stage’s LED screens acted as a live feed of his performance, and beaming search lights and chopping sound of helicopter blades added a menacing sense of being surveilled.

It’s a nod to the reality Rocky now faces.

His high-profile romance with Rihanna, Met Gala appearances, roles in blockbusters, and brushes with law enforcement have made his life a source of inescapable intrigue despite his attempts to maintain a veil of privacy.

To drive the point further home, he had banners that read “Big Brother is Always Watching” hanging from the stage’s wall.

Rocky is well-versed in the language of stardom, and the drawbacks that come with it, but he’s most comfortable when his artistry is at center. And Thursday’s show was a Hollywood-style production with Rocky in the director’s chair.

“I want to get to some turnt up s—. I love this energy. Philly, are y’all ready? Let’s start a riot,” Rocky ordered before performing “Riot (Rowdy Pipe’n).”

While most of his performance focused on Don’t Be Dumb, the setlist included some tracks from his 2011 mixtape, Live. Love. A$AP, and some more recent creative undertakings.

The crowd, largely comprising teenagers and mid-20-somethings, rapped along to “Trunk” and “STFU,” and swayed to the smoother R&B cuts like “Stay Here 4 Life.”

His two-hour set was a marathon of solo favorites like “Goldie,” “F—’ Problems," and “Praise the Lord (Da Shine),” but he also snuck in posse cuts from his Cozy Tapes days in 2016 and 2017. He dove into A$AP Mob collaborations like “Hella Hoes” and “Yamborghini High,” a song that was followed by a moment of silence to honor Rocky’s beloved friend A$AP Yams, who died from a drug overdose in 2015.

A$AP Twelvyy joined Rocky on stage soon after.

Don’t Be Dumb comes eight years after the lukewarm response to 2018’s Testing, and seven years since A$AP Rocky last hit the road on tour. His fans have often questioned if Rocky still had music in his sights.

Thursday night’s show proved that his artistic ambitions have gone nowhere, but only magnified.

He made the entire night look effortless, except for the noticeable moments when his temper flared when “American Sabotage” was prematurely cut short. While the brief audio issues frustrated Rocky, who’s headlining his first tour since 2019’s “Injured Generation” tour, it didn’t halt the momentum or action.

Before the night ended, Rocky left the crowd with a M. Night Shyamalan-style plot twist.

He seemingly “ended” the show with a message of wisdom for his fans.

“Don’t have unsafe sex. Don’t drink and drive, and don’t be dumb,” Rocky said before performing his newest title track, “Don’t Be Dumb.” Even adding a “I’ll be back soon, Philly. I promise. I ain’t talking out of my ass or gassing y’all. I want to thank y’all for supporting me.”

As fans began walking toward their exits, Rocky pulled off his last trick.

“Oh, y’all didn’t think I was done, did you?”

He performed “Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye 2,” sealing the show and proving that this wasn’t his hallowed return to form. Because he had never left.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Review: J. Cole brings 'the Ville' to Xfinity Mobile Arena

What’s a “fall-off” exactly?

In the NBA, it’s when a player loses his burst or first-step. Eventually, the player’s statistics dip, injuries pile up, and the calls for retirement become unavoidable.

Rap superstar J. Cole, whose latest album is called The Fall-Off, loves the sport. His music is coded with basketball references, begging comparisons between an athlete’s dedication on the court to Cole’s in the studio. He, being a basketball player himself, understands how the game can force you to hang up your jersey, even when you feel there’s more to give.

The same rules don’t apply to the rap game, and Cole knows that. At 41, Cole made a brief pro basketball run in China in April, when most athletes his age have either retired or are in the twilight of their careers.

Sure, his new song claims “the fall-off is inevitable,” but unlike an aged NBA star, there’s nothing that points to Cole’s musical decline.

His first of two shows at Xfinity Mobile Arena on Monday night for “The Fall-Off World Tour” was enough proof.

Despite his initial claims that The Fall-Off would be his last studio album, the man isn’t showing signs of retiring. He’s relishing the moment, enjoying the ride he’s taken with his fans since 2007’s The Come Up, and occasionally taking personal detours along the way. And to his fans’ delight, he doesn’t let his foot off the gas.

Cole’s journey to the Xfinity Mobile Arena stage began amid the crowd. Dressed in an unassuming black sweatshirt, he appeared sitting in the stands, in the middle of an arena spotlight. . A video of him appeared on the stage’s LED screen; a title card identified Jermaine Lamarr Cole as the director of the show we were about to witness.

With “39 Intro” blaring in the arena, Cole walked through the crowd shaking hands with everyone in his path.

The battered Honda Civic that Cole has kept from his college days, and later drove across the country to promote The Fall-Off’s release, descended onto the stage.

From then on, Cole was in the driver’s seat.

With a replica of Fayetteville, N.C.’s historic Market House in the background, he transitioned to hard-hitting odes to his hometown.

When he performed “Two Six,” a reference to the 26th county in North Carolina where his city lies, the crowd swung their tour-branded towels in the air like fans at an NBA playoff game.

“We’re only a few songs in, and I can tell this [is] one of them ones,” Cole said less than 10 minutes into his setlist, before breaking into “Safety,” followed by a five-minute monologue about Disc 29, the first half of The Fall-Off.

These moments allowed Cole to delve deep into his creative choices and concepts, but it was at the expense of the show’s momentum. He halted tracks like “Life Sentence” to express how much he wants his fans’ marriages to succeed, all to little effect.

Those lengthy spiels aside, the sequencing of his songs provided a window into Cole’s mind. And with every changing record and shift in the emotional weight, the stage backdrop changed hues — from bright amber on “Two Six” to deep blues and violets on “Poor Thang.”

The smoke intensified as Cole bounced from 2014’s “A Tale of 2 Citiez” and “Fire Squad,” before pausing to ask the crowd for a quick favor. “Philly, I know y’all don’t play about your sports teams … Whether you’re from PA, Philly, or Jersey, can y’all pretend y’all from Fayetteville for this one song? Is that cool?”

It didn’t take much convincing.

He broke into “Old Dog,” and the crowd obliged – erupting as the booming record sprung into rotation.

As a note of thanks, Cole played a medley of one-off singles and collaborative hits, including “MIDDLE CHILD” and “a lot,” his Grammy-winning collab with 21 Savage.

He polled the audience to see which of his fans could spit his verse on Benny the Butcher’s “Johnny P’s Caddy,” and one lucky Altoona, Pa., native was handpicked to join him on stage.

Cole then moved to early mixtape favorites like “Lights Please” and “In the Mourning” before leaping to radio jams like “Work Out” and “Nobody’s Perfect,” all with seamless execution. .

The crowd rose to their feet for “Wet Dreamz” and hoisted their phone lights to “Love Yourz.”

Then, after singing “Power Trip” and “Planez,” Cole proceeded to spoil the show’s end.

“I can’t lie, I have two more songs left,” he declared. “The second is a selfish one. It’s for me.”

The first was “No Role Modelz,” a track accompanied with an AI video of Cole dressed as former President George W. Bush misstating a common proverb during his 2002 visit to a Nashville high school.

“Fool me once … shame on you. Fool me — you can’t get fooled again," Cole rapped, repeated the former president’s words. The obviously doctored video briefly amused the crowd (and Cole).

The final song of Cole’s performance was “Quik Stop.” Another personal detour, but a welcome one, no doubt.

“It’s not a hit record. So, if you want to leave to beat traffic, I get it,” he said. “I got to do this song.”

Fans barely budged as Cole closed the two-hour show with a record that encapsulates how one encounter with a fan reminded him of his musical existence.

That closing record was reflective of Cole’s delivery throughout the show.

He isn’t one for onstage theatrics, synchronized pyrotechnics, or elaborate LED graphics. It’s just him and a microphone, a direct exchange between him and his fans with a few monologues thrown into the mix.

As it stands, Cole hasn’t lost sight of that connection, and he certainly hasn’t lost his musical touch or command on stage.

There’s no “falling off” here, only falling forward. Cole is still commanding the rap game, as a great point guard controls the flow of offense.

And neither he nor his Honda Civic has met its last stop yet.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Tired of X, rapper Meek Mill now has a LinkedIn account. We tried to find out why.

We’re not the only ones updating our LinkedIn profiles, scrolling through workaversary posts, and flying through “easy-apply” applications.

Last week, Grammy-nominated artist Meek Mill joined LinkedIn, and has already shaken up things on the world’s largest professional networking platform.

The “Dreams and Nightmares” rapper and North Philly native said he’s done with the saturation of AI bots, deepfake slop, and “gossip people” on X.

“We basically in a deep matrix trapped between Instagram, x …, TikTok, snap, etc. we have millions of fans, we can’t even get real data on them, that’s where the bots live, free to control narrative,” Meek tweeted.

So, he decided to join … LinkedIn?

That’s a surprise and perhaps bit of a disappointment for anyone who has followed his unhinged and unintentionally hilarious tweets, including his memorable rap beefs with the likes of Cassidy, Wale, and Drake. But the Dream Chaser Records CEO said he’s ready to showcase his “true potential.”

And he thinks LinkedIn is the perfect platform to do that.

“For too long, others have spoken on my behalf, but now I am taking the reins and speaking for myself, supported by a strong team,” Meek wrote in his first LinkedIn post, last week. “I will be posting more content and business ideas to demonstrate the strength of the brand and my process.”

In his bio, the rapper wrote he’s “looking to build out and make business connections that’s aligned with meek mill, dream chasers & bikelife brand.” He added that he’s looking to connect with criminal justice reform advocates, and that he’s “nice at creating tech ideas.”

From the looks of it, those connections are already happening.

Since joining the platform, the rapper, born Robert Rihmeek Williams, has made posts looking to explore business partnerships and collaborations with music labels, AI programmers, and video game developers.

Meek’s recent foray into LinkedIn, and his calls for business collabs and partnerships, comes months after he announced his musical independence and broke away from recording labels.

In a June 2025 appearance on Philly-based content creator Raud‘s stream, Meek talked about only receiving 13% of his earnings for the first 13 years of his career. Now, as an independent artist, he said he’s getting 100% but keeping an open mind about future partnerships.

“I’m about to do something else, something they’ve never seen before. I’ll talk about it when we do it,” he said during the stream.

Maybe that explains the LinkedIn pivot.

He is the cofounder of the nonprofit Reform Alliance, which launched in January 2019. Through it, Meek has advocated for legislation and policy changes around parole and probation laws. The inspiration, as he explained in a LinkedIn post, was the wrongful conviction of a childhood friend who, according to Meek, was sentenced to 20-40 years for a crime he never committed, and was released only three years ago.

Meek also expressed an interest in making a documentary, building a clothing brand, and establishing his own beverage company.

LinkedIn users have commented on his posts.

“Very inspiring Mr Mill, I have followed your career rather closely and look forward to seeing your impact on the platform. I strongly believe you can certainly make a difference in the community and strengthen the culture,” one LinkedIn user wrote.

“I’ll automate your whole business for you Meek give me a dm,” another user commented.

He has replied with a “let’s work” to several of these comments, but clarified on Monday, “Please ensure you have a proven track record.”

Seemingly, Mill’s not the only artist to have made the jump to LinkedIn. Last week, a profile claiming to be Claire Boucher, the birth name of Canadian singer-songwriter Grimes, also appeared on the platform.

Even on the new platform, Meek hasn’t abandoned his old social media ways of bringing folks to task.

In a Sunday post, he called out an unnamed group in Albany, N.Y. who he claims has mounted “a noticeable smear campaign against my name.” But, he insisted, he wants to “focus on the positive. I am eager to collaborate with tech and marketing companies to elevate my brand to new heights.”

As Meek gets used to the lay of the land on LinkedIn, he hasn’t forgotten his X account.

On Saturday, he wrote a post on X describing the connections he’s made on LinkedIn before issuing a caveat: “... I don’t want the gossip people to follow me to LinkedIn just business...”

Meek’s plans include everything from a documentary chronicling the DVD era, to implementing AI courses in public schools and underserved communities, to finding a “long term meek mill supporter” who’s invested in a future tech startup.

He even added a music collaboration with J. Cole to his wish-list.

“I need j Cole on my project wassup bro let’s get it in the studio!!!!!,” he wrote.

Meek said he’s been using AI platforms like Claude to organize his music and business verticals, all thanks to “some tech youngbull” he met on LinkedIn who gave him a template to use.

“It’s moving my business forward at a high rate!” he explained on X.

Beyond his calls for partnership, Meek also hinted at a possible project this summer. And that nothing, not even “algorithms,” are going to “stop the soul” in his music from reaching his listeners, he said.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Leon Thomas III Talks Unleashing 'Mutt' And Pushing R&B Forward

Leon Thomas III has had a big year. Following a Best R&B Song win at the 2024 GRAMMYs for "Snooze" and a three-month stint in Florence, Italy to produce Ye and Ty Dolla $ign’s Vultures series, the R&B singer and songwriter is ready to see his own name atop the marquee. 

When he’s not penning chart-topping songs or producing for the likes of Ariana Grande, Post Malone, Drake or Chris Brown, the former child actor is adding notches to his own musical utility belt. Since joining Ty Dolla $ign’s EZMNY Records as the imprint’s first artist in 2022, Thomas has evolved into a R&B fixture. His debut album, 2023's Electric Dusk, showcased his slick lyrics, free-flowing melodies, and anthem-made ballets in full form.

Now, the Brooklyn-born artist is set to build on his newfound momentum with his sophomore release, Mutt. While the project may seem carefully curated, Thomas says the album and his artistic journey is loosely-tailored by design. 

"There are parts of this that people may think are calculated, but I’m just flowing," he tells GRAMMY.com. "I’m just glad people are resonating with everything I’m doing naturally. It’s a journey."  

Mutt unites Thomas' love of jazz icons like Art Blakey and Miles Davis with neo-soul and rock acts like Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin to forge sleek jams with a contemporary edge. Album cuts "Vibes Don’t Lie" and "Yes It Is" are a baptism in neo-soul vocals, evoking  innovators such as D’Angelo, Musiq Soulchild, and Maxwell

The album is as lyrically rich as it is sonically expansive. On the sultry "I Use To," Thomas recounts the sorrow of a lost love that once enriched his soul; "I Do" is a piano-laden tale of the hard-fought lessons that ushered in a new romantic endeavor. Throughout, the singer/songwriter is intensely vulnerable. "God and losing you is the only two things I fear," Thomas sings. 

The rock-inspired "Dancing With Demons" is a foot inside the deep end of fame while "How Fast" offers a flash of braggadocio. "Hold on, I’m a visionary. This s– getting kind of scary/ So addicted to the top, it’s always missionary." And "Answer Your Phone" is a crowd-swaying tune set to enliven fans on Thomas’s first solo tour.

Like Thomas’ life, the album shows the "Socialite" artist embark on a one-way ticket to the top of the musical landscape. He’s no longer satisfied with playing the background. Thomas has embraced the weight of being a headlining act on Mutt, and he’s prepared to weather the uncertain storms and visible weeds he’s set to experience on his broader musical pursuits. 

Thomas spoke with GRAMMY.com about his studio sessions with Ty Dolla $ign and Ye, the new generation of R&B crooners pushing the genre forward, and how his dog Terry inspired the album title. 

This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity. 

How does it feel to release your second album?

It feels special, but I was super nervous. Dropping music in 2024 is an interesting process because you’re fighting the waves of so many social media moments and distractions. But it’s great to see my music cut through and for people to hear me. It feels like some of my best work, and I’m just excited for people to see all of the different ways I’m putting music together. This is going to be a journey. 

What inspired the album title?

I got a dog three years ago. His name is Terry and he’s a German Shepherd and Husky mix. He’s such a sweetheart, but he’s always getting into stuff. I recognize the face he makes when he’s in trouble. I make the same face when I’m about to go through a breakup or something. 

I felt like that correlation was an interesting process. I wanted to talk about the element of control between men and women when you’re trying to get your partner to act right. It seems to be a common theme in this generation, so I wanted to talk about it. 

What sound were you trying to capture on Mutt?

For me, jazz is the root of who I am. My grandfather was really cool with Art Blakey back in the day, and he always played Miles Davis and John Coltrane. I try to find ways to implement some of the chord progressions that I hear in my head into my music. That will always be adjacent to neo soul, but I don’t necessarily want to do a whole live jazz album as a 30-year-old right now. 

A lot of decisions that I made are also rock influenced as well. I was listening to a lot of Black Sabbath, the Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin during the making of the album. I’m finding ways to sneak in my influences, even though I know I’ll lock in on these R&B charts. 

How did the production come together? Did you handle most of it?

I outsourced. There were a bunch of different guys that worked on the production. I think being around Ye and Ty Dolla $ign for the Vultures I album helped. I spent three months in Florence, Italy before I finished [Mutt]. I came back with a different taste level for how an album can play from top to bottom and how tricky we can get with the production. I started adding little pieces here and there to really elevate the sound of it. It’s definitely my symphony, and I’m trying to put it all together.  

How is it working with artists like Ty Dolla $ign, Ye, Chris Brown, and SZA? Are you inspired by their work or studio sessions?

I think I’m inspired by osmosis. I don’t feel like there’s any specific style that I’m using that’s theirs. I’m just putting my neck out there and daring to be different. I’m not doing basic concepts or attacking basic instrumentals. I feel like I’m doing my best to push the genre by taking chances and experimenting. I’m just hoping that it’s received because I genuinely love the R&B genre. I want to see it grow and evolve, and I want to be a part of that process. 

What’s your views on the current state of R&B?

I think we’re in a really amazing place. There are singers that fill that craving for the golden era of the 1990s. There are others with really solid vibes that feel like the '60s. And then there are people like myself who are blending genres and time periods while having fun, not giving a s— about the rules. 

I think that’s a positive thing, but it’s abrasive to people who only see R&B as a linear thing. There’s a broad range in what it can be in its true definition, and I’m excited to see where we go in the future. There are so many artists playing instruments and singing their ass off without a lick of autotune. I’m definitely a fan of the genre, and the next generation is going to be nuts. 

Do you feel this album will fill any perceived holes in the genre?

I’ll be honest, I create selfishly. I’m just going into the studio to chase some chills. I don’t really care about the holes in the R&B genre. I just feel like that’s a big boulder to carry on your shoulders. I’m just trying to tell my story. I’m doing my best to put these records together, to get them mixed on time, and to shoot these music videos. 

When penning music for artists like SZA, Chris Brown, and other greats, was there a point where you were like, I got to do this for me?

Yes. It’s hard to be selfish, but the more reading I did and the more I learned about myself, it just felt like it was time to prioritize something that means so much to me. 

Writing these records and working with these big artists is such a blessing, but I want to hit stages and see the world through my music. I want to collect furniture from all the different countries. I feel like the best way to do that is through my music, so this is me putting my music and my dreams first. And I’m just really excited about it all. 

Did you ever have a moment of hesitancy, especially with you starting out as a child actor?

Yes, it wasn’t always easy. I think internally, I know who I am. I know who God made. I don’t need outside people to validate what I know to be true. Sometimes you have to be patient to allow people to grow with you. 

It’s like being a Coca-Cola or a Pepsi. They met me as an actor and they know I make music, but they saw me in a certain light and as a certain brand. It takes time to transfer over and introduce new flavors to the consumer. I’m being patient with my fans, and I’m being patient with myself. I’m working harder to make a product that’s going to be acceptable and will allow me to continue making music I want to make. 

You’re a multi-hyphenate. An artist, actor, producer, and songwriter. Do you ever get overwhelmed by it all? 

When it comes to scheduling, I get overwhelmed. But I’m doing more to prioritize my mental and physical health without taking anything away from myself or my art. That balance is something I will continue to perfect over time. It’s like a muscle, and I’m still figuring it out. I want to do everything, and I know I can. I just think certain industries I’m involved in are a three-month season, rather than all 12. 

How did it feel to win a GRAMMY for SZA’s "Snooze"?

It’s really surreal. I’ve never been one to put too much energy into awards, but that GRAMMY felt different. That was a special thing. I don’t have a college degree or anything, but this is the closest thing I can say to my pops that, "Hey, I’m validated here." He obviously sees the work I do with all these big artists, but him coming to my house and holding my GRAMMY was an interesting moment. Seeing someone who’s always believed in me hold something that validated his belief was such a beautiful moment.

Do you feel like you’ve found your voice, or is something you’re still exploring? 

I feel like an artist’s work is never done. There’s always something to explore. I sat in a studio session with Babyface. He’s still exploring new things and he’s a lot older than me. The fact he’s still writing new songs and experiencing the world through his music lets me know it never ends. And I’m cool with that because this is a really awesome job. I feel like my voice is present and my voice is formed. It’s just all about packaging it so people can help me better. 

Are there future collaborations or goals you have in mind down the road? 

I definitely want to continue to make music, and I want to be rich enough to give back as well. I have a lot of initiatives and nonprofits I want to put together when I hit that $100 million mark, and I think it’s all possible through music. That’s why I fight so hard for my artistic journey because the brand itself can really uplift my own community. 

When will your day-one fans see you go back to acting?  

I’ve been ignoring self audition tapes for three years because it’s been insane trying to produce big albus and build these albums out in preparation for tours. But I’m looking forward to the release of this album and my tour to get back into acting class. I’m really a fan of the artform, so I want to shake off the cobwebs and really get back into the acting gym. I want to give [my fans] a performance that’s an elevation from everything they have seen from me before.

– Grammy.com

Alien Superstar: We caught up with the Philly Beyoncé fan whose costume earned a shoutout from the singer

The BeyHive was buzzing Wednesday night at The Linc for Queen Bey’s arrival.

Before Beyoncé's first U.S. Renaissance World Tour stop in Philly, fans spent weeks mapping out their pre-show plans and piecing their outfits for the 2 ½-hour spectacle.

Yes, there were Philly celebs in the audience: We spotted Questlove and Jazmine Sullivan. But one unearthly audience member caught Beyoncé's attention. Newark, N.J.-native Tameer Peak, 27, embodied his inner alien superstar, wearing a six-pound UFO mask, as a nod to the “Renaissance” song. His otherworldly outfit even received an onstage shoutout from Beyoncé herself: “Hey alien superstar ... alien in the house,” the singer said to the sold-out crowd. “I really accomplished everything I wanted tonight,” Peak tweeted on Wednesday night.

“I’ve seen the concert three times now, and this was the best concert of all three,” Peak said to The Inquirer. He attended two other shows in London. “America was better because it’s been long-awaited. People had more time to prepare, and because of the section I was in, being so close to Beyoncé made it even more spectacular.”

Peak said one security officer stopped him from entering the BeyHive B area. “It almost failed horribly,” he said. “But once Beyoncé’s team saw me, they instantly loved it and helped me.”

The BeyHive pits are located on either side of the main stage while Club Renaissance ticket holders get to stand in the circle pit at the end of Beyoncé's runway.

Longtime fan Michael Ramirez, 25, arrived 12 hours before Beyoncé hit the concert stage to grab a prime spot at Club Renaissance. And to be that close to the superstar, he said to The Inquirer, was truly a moment to behold.

“She’s famously private, so the chance to get that close to her was really a treat,” Ramirez, who turned up at The Linc at 8 a.m., said. “And based on what she said about this album and [the ‘Renaissance era’] — it releasing all the stress and worries, and the dance floor being your freedom — I really feel like it was very much the vibe of that section.”

While Ramirez’s outfit of shiny button-down shirt, silvery shorts, and rodeo hat was (relatively) simple, the Harlem resident said he plans to go “fancier” when he attends the singer’s New Jersey, Atlanta, and Houston tour stops.

So far, Ramirez’s planned outfit includes a fringe-tipped jacket, black chaps, and matching cowboy boots, in line with the tour’s unspoken dress code.

Philly-native Trev Vanzant, 29, was surprised to see how spacious Club Renaissance was, leaving enough room for her and others to enjoy the “visually stunning” concert experience.

“I don’t think that visual aesthetic can be topped,” she said. “As far as a show at The Linc, there’s an amount of intimacy that can’t happen in a stadium like that.”

While Beyoncé put on a stellar performance in South Philly, Peak had a controversial take on who the real star of Wednesday night was.

“Irrespective of what anyone else thinks, Blue Ivy IS THAT GIRL,” Peak said. “The crowd was enamored by her stage presence. She ate her mother up. [She’s] a true star.”

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Keke Palmer Gets Raw On 'Just Keke': How The Multi-Hyphenate Reclaimed Her Narrative & Entered Her "Awareness Era"

Keke Palmer has made the evolution from child star to Hollywood empress look seamless. Whether it’s on set of a blockbuster movie, along the red carpet, or in the podcasting space, the actress, author, and entertainment mogul has remained the same Keke she’s always been.

For more than two decades, Palmer has been steadfast in her pursuits and intentional with her public image. She’s taken on bigger and more mature roles as an actress and launched KeyTV, a Los Angeles-based digital network that produces scripted and non-scripted shows starring other industry talents. As she’s expanded her horizons and ping-ponged from one big budget project to the next, she hasn't taken her sights off music.

Palmer has continuously poured into her music career. Beginning with 2007’s So Uncool to her newest release, Just Keke, the pop and R&B singer has gradually found her artistic footing. With the release of her latest album, Palmer has  shed the immeasurable weight of perfection that she carried for so long on her shoulders. 

Palmer has effectively abandoned the charismatic Hollywood persona reflected in her TV and movie roles and hilarious viral quips. Rather than disguise her anger, confliction, or heartbreak harbored since her last project, 2023's Big Boss, Palmer shed her previous "mask" in exchange for a mirror. Just Keke reflects the most authentic parts of Palmer's Hollywood star and Lauren, the girl from Harvey, Illinois who’s outgrown the small talk, lingering hangovers, and romantic drama. 

Released on June 20, Just Keke is Palmer’s rawest musical project to date. The album, and accompanying visual album, explores Palmer’s family life, her journey as a new mother, and her very public breakup. Throughout the album, she addresses her contentious split with Darius Jackson, and how her seconds-long dance with Usher at his Las Vegas residency in July 2023 placed an irreparable wedge between them. Rather than address it on social media, Palmer was compelled to put it to wax. 

Along with the pain of heartbreak, Palmer swats down the rumors and misconceptions that circulate online, and illuminates how motherhood and her recent experiences have made her an even firmer protector and believer in her future aspirations. GRAMMY.com spoke to the multihyphenate about her musical journey, how her role in an upcoming Boots Riley movie inspired her to get back into the studio, Issa Rae’s advice to go "Off Script," the honor of being memed, and her hopes to take her son, Leo, on tour for the album. 

The interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

Between movies, TV shows and your podcast, how do you have time for music, especially a new album?

The conversation always leads you, meaning I don’t always have something to say for an album. I feel like in order to put an album out, you have to have a topic. A lot of the other things I do are collaborative projects, so it’s somebody else's words or it’s a role, or even hosting is just a curiosity of life. 

But with [Just Keke], it’s like me putting all of my thoughts together — everything that I feel like I’ve learned or I want to reflect from society. It really guides me. Once I feel that feeling, then I make the time to put that project together. Otherwise, I kind of allow myself to keep living until that itch comes back. 

You even recorded Just Keke while filming a new film. What was that balancing act like?

It was something I needed because, as I said, that itch came back. I was working on this project for a while, and I was working on [the Boots Riley film, I Love Boosters]. I think being in that energy I was like, I think I’m ready. I should start trying to get my words out

Every night after I was on set, or on the weekend before I went back to start my week, Tayla Parx and Ispent about four days working on the project. And it just gave me that break that I needed. Sometimes when I’m doing one thing for a long time — whether it be a TV show, a movie, or my podcast — I need to mix it up. I needed to do something different, and it happened to be music. I was also ready to tell my story for this time period of my life. 

It’s been two years since Big Boss. How was your approach different this go around?

Well, I think I'm a way different person, and my conversation is different with myself. People say this is my most personal album, and I agree. Not because I was being fake on the other ones, but because anytime that you are deeper with yourself, it just changes the way you speak and communicate with others. It’s like a lived experience that just evolved me in a way that I didn’t even know I could evolve to. It just opened up a different perspective for me that you hear in the music.

This album was a peeling back of the layers and showing the world an insight into the life of Keke the entertainer, and Lauren the person. Were there any moments you thought might have been a bit too close to the chest?

Yes, and that’s the reason why I wanted to work with Tayla on the project because she was somebody that I trusted; not just because she’s so skilled, but because she cares about me. 

My [relationship] with my audience is communal. I’m a Black girl, I’m a Black millennial, and I’m a young person — I take all that seriously. That’s how my parents raised me with my platform. But at the end of the day, I’m a human being. People saw me, in the most public way, go through a very human experience. So, as a person and as an artist, not to address [the public breakup] would be a halt in my growth as a person. I didn’t want to exploit myself, but I wanted to talk about how this has impacted me… how the relationship impacted the way I perceive myself, and all the other ways that I needed to grow and heal.

It was kind of the inciting incident that allowed that barrier of feeling, that weight of perfection to kind of crumble. 

You dug deep on "My Confession." Was there a moment where you thought, Damn, maybe I went too far?

There absolutely was. And by the way, we went through that with every song, damn near. From "Off Script" to "Misunderstood" and "Expose." We went through that multiple times, but definitely with "My Confession," especially with the family line. I was thinking, Well, how much can I say? How were we going to say it?

The way [Tayla] produces projects, it’s not just what I’m saying. It’s also how I’m saying it, the inflections and the vibe. You really get to tap into the energy of how I feel that I’m confessing. I’m truly getting this s— off my chest that I need to get off, and it hurts to get it off my chest because I’m not trying to make nobody look crazy or look bad, but it’s part of my life. And I need to own my truth. 

It was very much a back and forth type of thing where I’m thinking, Damn, is this too messy? But music is your diary. Music is a big, deep expression for any artist that’s trying to be true. Again, it wasn’t that other projects I wasn’t trying to be honest. I didn’t have these experiences to realize that. The music went further on Just Keke because I further as a person. 

How would you define this new personal or artistic era you’re in?

I think this is like an awareness era; a true observational era in moving from just being the performer to also presenting to my audience that I'm the architect. Like, this is what Keke Palmer the brand is going to be talking about this season. 

With Just Keke, it’s clear that I’m talking about fragmentation, integration, and what it means to be a product. I’m talking about becoming who you are in front of the world. I'm talking about your love life and your love story not turning out the way that you want it. But I'm doing it with artistic awareness, while I also take you through the journey as the business and the creative person behind it. I put this together to transmute my personal experience, but in an art form. I’m taking off the mask, so to speak, and saying, "Hey, this is what I’m doing, why I’m doing it, and how I’m doing it." 

In another interview, you said this album was about, "Turning your mask into a mirror." Break that down for me.

I call my fans my miracles. I never called them anything before because it always felt kind of strange to me. But then after this experience, I was just sitting with myself and looking at my life, I thought, They’re my miracles. They saw it in me before I saw it for myself. 

And we’re reflecting each other back to one another. Anytime you get memed, it’s because people see themselves in you, and that’s the biggest and greatest honor. I think I have a unique relationship with my generation. I feel mirrored by them, and they feel mirrored by me. I think that’s really special because that means they see the truth. 

As a performer, I always try to keep it on point. But whether it was at the Met Gala, when I said, "It’s your girl," or when I did Vanity Fair and I said, "Sorry, to that man," they saw the real person. Even though I was trying to be as perfect as I could, they already knew I wasn’t perfect. And that’s what they love about me. And for me, it’s about taking off the mask and owning being in front of the mirror. Being that mirror for them, and being that mirror for me. 

Within the last two years, you became a mother. How do you feel motherhood has inspired you creatively, or even beyond music?

Motherhood has just made me braver. I think that's spilled into everything that I do — the ability to just have the courage to say "no" and have boundaries. To be firm in times when I was it wasn’t as easy to do it myself, but I knew that my son was watching. I knew this was going to affect my son because it’s going to affect me. 

I think it’s hard sometimes for people to stand up for themselves, even for the most confident people you can think of. It can be tough, but when you have a child, it becomes so detrimental. The child needs you, so you become stronger, braver, and more loving to yourself simply because you need to be for the kid. That’s the biggest way my son has impacted my life. 

On the visual album, you honor R&B icons like Whitney Houston and Brandy. Do you see parts of yourself in them?

They’re commercial icons, but they’re also Black women. A lot of what we speak to is generally flattened, fetishized, or it becomes a mockery because of the nature of our society. When I looked at women like Brandy and Whitney, I saw myself in them and saw them trying to become who they are in front of the world. It was never enough; [even] when you’re trying to be perfect, trying to do everything right. 

I remember when Brandy first had her child, and people were shocked. And when people judged Whitney, too. I feel like it’s just a rite of passage when you decide to be somebody in front of the world. I just wanted to honor them because they deserve to be honored for who they are, not for who people wanted them to be. At the end of the day, that’s what I’m saying with Just Keke. Maybe I’m not perfect. Maybe I’m just misunderstood, and maybe I’m not everything you want me to be, but I’m doing my damn best. All I can be is Keke, just like Whitney could only be Whitney, and Brandy could only be Brandy. That’s what’s necessary as we encourage the next generation to come into their own. 

The album wasn’t just filled with heavy material. The song "Tea, Boo" is a fun, house-inspired record. How was it putting songs like those together for Just Keke?

"Tea, Boo" is obviously like my personality. I think all the songs speak to different vibes of me. But "Tea, Boo" is like, "Hey, we’re kicking back, having fun, and let’s make a moment." 

"Tea, Boo" was a lot of fun. We were in the studio, and I was literally asking for some tea. And I was like, "Okay, I have some tea, boo." And Mike, the guy who was in there writing with me, was like, "What’s tea-boo?" And I was like, "No, I’m saying tea, comma, boo." And he was like, "That’s a song." From there, we started working on this record, and it was so fun. I wrote it around the same time as my book, Master of Me, so I was in the early stages of getting back into music. I kept it in the tuck, and felt it was perfect for the album. 

You were gloating on "Ripples," and included your family in the vignette during the visual album. That had to have been a special moment.

I was showcasing the side of me I damn near forgot about myself because I was doing everything that I could to be Keke Palmer. But there’s Lauren Palmer inside that created that persona to be able to survive. But now, I don’t have to do it to survive. I can do it with intention. 

Aside from talking my s—, I also wanted to show what it means to build a legacy. To show this is what it means to play your role in your family, and to continue to do what you need to do at all costs. My family has supported me. I’ve supported them, and they won’t stop. That’s how we’re going to keep doing it. That’s how I was raised. My dad talked to me about [actors] Ruby Dee, Ossie Davis, and I remember meeting Kyla Pratt for the first time. I was so nervous that I didn’t say anything. And he was like, "You need to always show respect to the people that put on before you." He was kind of checking me, even though I was starstruck. I think about that often because he was like, "You’re not in competition with each other." We are in support of one another, and we have to give each other flowers whenever we see each other. It’s like we all have ripples that we come from, so we have to pay respect to that."  

Will you have a tour for this album? And if so, will baby Leo be on board for the ride?

You know that baby Leo has to come. I literally can’t leave without baby Leo. I would love to figure out a way. I don’t know what my tour is going to be like because I definitely feel like it has to be its own shape. I’m a musician, but how I see myself as an artist is everything at once. I want to figure out what’s the best way to do that kind of show because it has to be very much Just Keke. But doing a show and doing a tour is definitely on my list. It’s been the main thing me and my team have been talking about.

– Grammy.com

World Cafe Live protests continue as staffers are fired and threatened with legal action

The conflict between the new leadership team of West Philadelphia music venue World Cafe Live and employees escalated on Thursday to include firings.

Employees continued to picket on the day after Wednesday night’s walkout when, during a Suzanne Vega concert, they protested “an unacceptable level of hostility and mismanagement” by the new leadership.

On Thursday evening, the management team headed by new CEO Joseph Callahan responded by firing some employees involved in the protest and announcing plans to file a formal complaint to federal authorities and the Pennsylvania Attorney General’s Office.

In a statement titled “World Cafe Live Responds to Employee Walkout and Reaffirms Commitment to Community and Transformation,” the leadership said Wednesday’s action was “not only disruptive to our guests, but also resulted in significant reputational and operational damage to the organization.”

“The individuals involved in this walkout have been terminated with cause, and are permanently banned from the premises,” it said.

On Wednesday, Sophia Mattes, the night box office manager, read a statement in solidarity with her coworkers that demanded “on-time and accurate pay” and said “the work environment has become hostile to the point of staff safety being questioned.”

Mattes confirmed that she and four other staffers had been served with termination papers outside the venue on Thursday evening. In addition, another source said, two other staffers not involved in the walkout were also sent termination letters.

Those firings follow the resignations of WCL’s longtime COO and general manager Kerri Park, as well as programming director Helen Smith and ticketing and guest services manager Hayley Simmons, all of whom had their last days this week.

On Thursday night, shows went on with Philly’s interstellar musical travelers Sun Ra Arkestra and its 101-year-old leader Marshall Allen downstairs in the Music Hall, and for Sudanese American musician Sinkane upstairs in the Lounge.

When Sinkane and his band members, who blend African pop with electronica and funk, were told of the labor strife, he said he planned to speak out in support of the workers from the stage.

With reduced staff, the box office was closed, and there was no food service available.

“The management is more concerned with the protesters than solving the issues,” one protesting employee said.

The WCL statement said the organization has “retained counsel to file a formal complaint to federal authorities and the Pennsylvania Attorney General’s Office,” citing:

  • Conspiracy to interfere with commerce under the Hobbs Act

  • Theft and destruction of proprietary and contractual records

  • Intentional infliction of financial harm on a 501(c)(3) entity

  • Trespassing and unlawful disruption of business operations

Callahan took over as CEO and head of the World Cafe board this spring, succeeding Hal Real, who founded the venue in 2004 and converted it to a nonprofit in 2019.

According to the WCL statement, as of January 2025, the venue “was carrying over $6 million in accumulated debt” and suffered from “a culture of complacency and entitlement” that created “a dynamic that stifled innovation and smothered the growth potential of an organization with such extraordinary purpose and potential.”

The statement concluded: “World Cafe Live is not just a venue. It’s a home for music, community, education, and equity. … And to those who have sought to undermine this vital cultural institution: you will be held accountable.”

“We are rebuilding stronger, more transparent, and more community-driven than ever before.”

Outside the venue on Thursday afternoon, the protesting bartenders, guest service workers, and box office staff who gathered on Walnut Street shared a sharply contrasting perspective from that offered by WCL management.

Roughly 15 protesters assembled with signs that read, “Callahan Has Got No Plan,” “Keep Philly Independent,” and “No AI. NoMetaverse.” The staffers also launched a SaveWorldCafeLive page on Instagram.

Mattes said the past month has made her physically sick. “My anxiety and my mental health were not well,” she said. “I was scared, and a lot of us were scared, to walk out on [Wednesday], but I do feel relieved. I feel like something good will come of this, one way or another.”

Novalee Wilcher, who works in guest services, said Callahan’s presence has been a “crushing” blow to the venue’s operation, and she’s unsure how the place will survive going forward.

“Those who have been fired,” she said, “have been texted by coworkers, not management. So, there’s no communication about how to deal with these demands that we brought up to them, which shows a total disregard for the artists that are supposed to be playing, or how it affects the guests that are coming in, who have paid for their nights.”

Following Wednesday’s walkout, Wilcher said Callahan has threatened to call the police on her and other staffers as a form of intimidation. He even suggested their strike was “unlawful.”

She said she was locked in a room on Wednesday over a piece of personal mail that one of Callahan’s representatives “confiscated” and “withheld” from her.

Refuting Callahan’s claim of a $6 million debt, Mattes said former staff have verified that debt to be around $2.7 million.

“The fact is, we do need funding,” Mattes said. “But a big part of the problem with this new team is that we don’t believe that VR and hologram concert experiences, and taking the people out of this building, will be what draws people in more.”

Referring to Callahan’s plans to introduce automated servers, bartender Emilia Reynolds said, “I’m nervous about losing my job to a machine that can’t safely serve somebody, have them enjoy their night, and get them home safely. That’s my job.”

“Not even to mention, people woke up yesterday without a paycheck. That was the last straw,” they said.

Mattes and her coworkers, they said, are prioritizing funding efforts to “save” WCL but added that the leadership refuses “to listen to anyone who disagrees with them.”

Despite their indifference, Wilcher said she and others were willing to negotiate with Callahan. The crucial step, she said, was getting management on the “right path,” but, the staffers claim, it appears the tech entrepreneur isn’t looking to change course.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

(Dan DeLuca also contributed to this story)

Review: Chance The Rapper returns to form at The Fillmore.

It’s been a long six years for Chance the Rapper fans, who awaited the return of a rapper once deemed a leading voice in hip-hop.

In interviews, the Grammy-winning rapper said his absence was due to a combination of personal matters and the negative reception of his debut album, The Big Day, released in 2019.

It was a lofty conceptual album, aimed at promoting the sanctity of marriage in a genre that largely treated it as taboo. But the album was a colossal misfire that slowed Chance’s momentum and forced him to go back to the drawing board.

Chance’s follow-up, Star Line, proved that one unfavorably received project doesn’t define him. And with his performance at The Fillmore on Wednesday night, it appears he and his fanbase are fully realigned.

“And … we back,” Chance said to the crowd.

For the fourth stop in Chance’s 15-city “And We Back Tour,” he stepped up to the main music hall stage at The Fillmore with a microphone in hand.

It was a mild entrance for an artist of Chance’s stature, who was atop the 2017 Grammy stage to receive the award for Best New Artist. But it appears Chance has accepted that new ground needs to be covered and familiar rites of passage need to be traveled.

No hype man or dancers, no surprise guests or onstage theatrics. Just him and longtime collaborator Peter Cottontail steering the crowd with hits from Acid Rap; Coloring Book; and his latest album, with the lyrics to his songs projected on a background screen.

“This is going to be a great show,” said Chance, as he circled the stage. “Y’all got me in a flow state.”

Donning an all-black outfit complete with a tasseled Star Line jacket, Chance kicked off the show with “Star Side Intro,” alluding to his journey from being an underachieving high school student to his astronomical climb as a diamond-selling artist.

He then shifted to uptempo tracks like “Ride,” “Drapetomia,” and “Gun In Your Purse,” before weaving in slower, more heartfelt records like ”Back To The Go” and “Just A Drop.”

He was nearly brought to tears reciting the lyrics of “Pretty,” a moment met with added cheers from concertgoers. “Sometimes I think she was the love of my life. So, when I’m alone, sometimes I think that I’m dead,” he rapped as his voice briefly trembled.

It was a small look inside the life of Chance, who’s been purposefully private on the matters of his recent divorce from ex-wife Kirsten Corley, and his upward climb back to rap stardom.

Between the cuts from his latest album, Chance flashed back to decades-old classics like “Juke Juke,” “All Night,” “Blessings,” and the monster hit “No Problems,” inciting the entire crowd to jump from their feet.

While the crowd was engaged throughout his performance, Chance appeared out of sync at certain moments. Either his lyrics were too far in front of him, or he was slowing down to recapture the song’s tempo.

If not for the screen displaying his lyrics, sometimes it was hard to decipher which point he was on during certain tracks.

By the second half of the show, the stage rust was well-shed. He changed from his Star Line jacket to a plain black T-shirt and launched a medley of immersive and crowd-swaying records.

The show was divided by a series of brief intermissions, cut scenes of political leaders and socially conscious entertainers, and set design changes.

For the song “Letters,” an introspective critical look at Christian churches and religious sanctuaries throughout the country, Chance performed from inside a fixed performance box.

The song ends with digital flames rising from the back screen and reflecting on Chance’s body. It may not have fit within the larger performance itself, but it was a welcome dose of performance art that elevated the show.

He went on to perform “Speed of Light, “Just A Drop,“ and ”Ultralight Beam," three records that transformed the Fillmore into a place of shared worship. “I hope y’all feel the spirit, man,” Chance said to the crowd.

The medley of spiritual records is fitting for an artist who began vocalizing his religious awakening on Coloring Book, still his biggest project to date.

Star Line was also reflective of new developments. Before performing “The Negro Problem,” a song named after a compilation of essays by W. E. B. Du Bois and Paul Laurence Dunbar, he described the inspiration for the song.

“It’s about the concept of intersectionality,” Chance said while atop an elevated platform. “Certain things impact us all, and the more we look at the center, the better we’ll all be.”

Chance closed out the 90-minute show with “Speed of Love,” a should-be Grammy contender featuring Philly’s own Jazmine Sullivan.

Before the final curtain call, he left a thank you to the fans who waited for his return and paid to see him back in form. “Thank y’all for holding it down for 10-plus years,” he said. “I appreciate the love.”

– The Philadelphia Inquirer