Beyoncé and Jay-Z Are Larger Than Life at Vanderbilt Stadium

Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s stamina outlasted their audience’s on Thursday night at Vanderbilt Stadium, when On the Run II took over a large segment of Midtown with foot traffic, regular traffic and general party commotion. There was an atmosphere of giddy excitement everywhere we looked, but as the show went on, The Spin could see more and more “Oh shit, this is a school night” yawns. Forty-plus songs is a lot, even for superfans.

Hoofing it from the rideshare drop-off near the stadium, we could almost hear opening act (and Beyoncé protégés) Chloe x Halle, and by the time we finally made it in to our seat, second act DJ Khaled was just finishing up his set. Getting in took a long time, but it wasn’t a crush. We were running late, along with the thousands of other people in line, and truly, no one was in a hurry to see Khaled.

Security seemed to be more for crowd control at that point, and our timing seems to have been especially lucky. Friends who arrived earlier or later said it was far more of a scrum, in some cases to the point of being unnerving. Vanderbilt security and staff seemed overwhelmed by the crowd, much larger than the typical Commodores game-night crew, and some pals reported never actually being able to reach their seats, and they saw others turn around and leave. The lack of clear signage about ... well, anything, but especially addressing which lines were for which areas of the stadium as well as the bag policy (resulting in a mountain of purses at one security checkpoint) led to some potentially dangerous conditions. Had this been handled better, it could have been as good a show as it was for us for many more people.

The weather, however, was absolutely perfect for an outdoor event — a cool, clear, breezy night with the promise of autumn hanging right there, the moon and Mars bright above the stadium. The production setup was among the largest we’ve ever seen. (This is the spot where U2 parked its famous Claw in 2011.) The stage and five-story video screen stretched completely across the football field, with the screen separating in the middle to reveal a four-story structure populated by dancers, musicians, contortionists and more. Two long runways jutted out on either side, with a staircase rising to a mobile platform where the Carters would come together, gliding above the hubbub.

But, like, that was it? It was enormous but oddly simple, and the focus was definitely on the camerawork and video production. If you have a five-story video screen, you use it. The videos were beautifully produced, and beautifully corny. As with any good epic, we joined the story in progress: The Gangster and The Queen are on the run (again), riding motorcycles and rushing toward each other on a gorgeous beach — it’s nice that they found one another, partners who like to dress in costumes and make artsy films together. Their young family is integrated into the video package, including the viral clip of daughter Blue Ivy shushing her parents at this year’s Grammy Awards.

“This is real life,” the screen announced in 30-foot letters before The Gangster and The Queen made their entrance. This is technically true: Every single person present in the arena that night was alive. But also, come on. This is a performance — a long and very well-rehearsed one. Jay and Beyoncé’s relationship and collaborations with one another are the whole point of the show. Melding your personal, professional and artistic lives into one public narrative is a way for a real life to be lived, and for the Carters, it’s paid off. Is it worth it? It depends on how you feel about celebrity and money, if the privacy lost is worth it, if you want to go onstage night after night and sing songs about infidelity in your marriage, with your partner right there. It’s fun, it’s art, it’s cool, but that’s our cheap-seats take. It’s gotta be embarrassing, on some level, for the people onstage.

Their hits were "remixed," combined and stacked and integrated so Bey and Jay would alternate between singing and rapping — sometimes in tandem, sometimes back and forth, sometimes with one partner taking a streak of songs while the other quietly exited the stage for a costume change. (Best look of the night: Beyoncé’s late-’90s shiny iridescent bomber jacket, thigh boots and top.) One of the most dynamic moments in the first third of the show (seriously, this was so long) was a mash-up of Beyoncé’s “Baby Boy” interpolated with a cover of J Balvin’s “Mi Gente” (Beyoncé was featured on the remix). Time and life experience can change the context of everything, especially lyrics. The opening verses of Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin’ ” were not delivered with priapic braggadocio, but from the point of view of a 48-year-old husband and father looking back on lines written in 1999. “I’ve got no passion, and no patience,” is a really melancholy line when it’s delivered with sadness.

What else? We got all the hits, but shortened versions. Groups of men rapping along to every one of Jay’s songs (including our aisle’s beer seller, a genius who got to see the show and get paid at the same time) would take a breather during Beyoncé, and a few groups of women did the reverse. The woman sitting in front of us was incredibly hyped for both artists, and sang almost every word to almost every song. But as we approached the end of the night, her head was on her boyfriend’s shoulder. It was fun, but we were tired, and we all had our versions of real life to get back to on Friday. 

In The Spin — the Scene's live review column — staffers and freelance contributors review concerts under a collective byline.