Live Review: Nicki Minaj

Nicki Minaj is many things to many people: to the hordes of pre-teen girls in tonight's audience she's a cartoonish girly girl with fun songs; to the older crowd she's a foul-mouthed rapper with, well, fun songs. It's the latter side of Minaj that comes straight out of the gates, with the menacing Come On A Cone – a remarkable spitfire missive of insults delivered with the necessary dose of braggadocio.

Before long Minaj the candy-cane pop star is in full flight with the electro dance of Va Va Voom. Giant digital screens beam intricate sets behind her while hyper-enthused backup dancers perform their hip hop gymnastics about the stage. Minaj raps over the verses – breathily and without force while executing choreography, and thrillingly on point when stationary – and half-sings the pre-recorded choruses. Hits like Moment 4 Life and Super Bass are never actually carried through to completion, segueing into each other or into big electro breakdowns while the performers disappear for costume changes (Minaj sports six different outfits and accompanying wigs throughout the show). It's fun, it's dumb and the audience laps it up in a minor frenzy.

The show sags most through a medley of torch ballads: Fly, Right Thru Me and Fire Burns. Underscored by the fact that while Minaj coasts through as a dexterous rapper, she is a surprisingly weak singer. Two gospel singers are at the ready to do the vocal heavy lifting during these songs. Minaj is more comfortable while delivering the huge Euro pop of Pound The Alarm and Starships. There's liberal use of air horn, plenty of rave breakdowns and walls of bass. While it's perhaps a tall order to ask for authenticity during songs like these, you can't help but feel that the real Minaj is somewhat absent from the show. Starships, for instance, is a song about fiscal irresponsibility, promiscuity and partying hard, yet the rapper and her dancers do a smiley performance that veers dangerously close to a Hi-5 routine. She seems keenly aware of catering to young fans: “Don't give your cookies away to every Tom, Dick and Harry,” she says by way of advice after asking who in the audience is still at school.

It's a shame that Minaj can't successfully balance her gritty rap side with her pop persona, as at her best tonight – such as during the fearsome rendition of her verse from Kanye West's Monster – she's an arresting and imposing presence. Instead this is a stadium show by numbers – all the more underwhelming because Minaj is capable of something far weirder and more interesting.