Early on, Fatimah Warner fell for rhyme. Participation in Chicago’s slam poetry competitions soon turned into freestyle rap battles with her peers, eventually leading to her path crossing with that of Chance the Rapper. During her very first feature on his Acid Rap track “Lost,” Warner began making a name for herself.
Noname.
One mixtape, one studio LP (both self-released), and one giant heap of universal acclaim later, she’s become an earthquake in contemporary hip-hop. All that and much more came into focus Wednesday night at a sold-out Emo’s.
Calmly walking onstage in a modest, leopard-print dress that backed up her honest, down-to-earth vibe, the Chicago native received ample backlighting from the title of her album and tour, Room 25, filling the screen behind her. The moniker flickered like a decrepit “vacancy” sign on a ramshackle motel, but Warner’s performance pivoted 180 degrees from such a descriptor.
Band consisting of drums, bass, guitar, and keyboards, and completed by three backup singers, the main attraction began with the jazzy, soulful soundscape “Self,” a Room 25 cut that covers Warner’s views on religion, politics, everything.
“Y’all really thought a bitch couldn’t rap,” she spat softly.
The 27-year-old barely broke a sweat while weaving between songs off PG-rated Telefone and Room 25, which authorizes room for melancholy personal reflection. She and her ensemble included everything from the ethereal, heavenly strums of “Regal” to the fractured politics in “Blaxploitation,” taking it all way back to the soft “Diddy Bop.”
“Everybody gather round,” instructed the bandleader as the group plucked heartstrings. “Let’s have an emotional moment.”
She then dove into a disconsolate tale of abortion in “Bye Bye Baby,” more poetic heartbreak than a rap. Soon thereafter dropped a tribute to fellow performers similarly surfing just under the mainstream in her rendition of “Ace,” a joint track with neo-soul rappers Saba and Smino.
Noname and her band slipped offstage at the 40-minute mark, the room going black and the crowd shuffling with anticipation.
“Shall I rap?” she laughed as she sauntered back onstage solo.
Then began her part off collaborative “Shadow Man,” an all spoken-word salute to her literary grounding and the prosperity she’s achieved so quickly. Similar to Nicki Minaj’s widely revered verse in Kanye West’s “Monster,” Warner shines strongest while rapping with other musicians. That’s where comparisons end, however.
Noname doesn’t exist in relation to others. She’s all her own. And she’s earned a top spot in the male-dominated world of hip-hop.
This article appears in March 1 • 2019.