Snowflake Serenades: Reneé Rapp Graces Austin City Limits, World Cringes

Strutting onto the Austin City Limits stage like a discount Dwight Schrute, lesbian pop icon Reneé Rapp rocked a white collared shirt scrawled with "BLEACH BLONDE BAD BUILT BUTCH BODY"—a quote from some congressional catfight. Way to set the bar for trashy fashion, Rapp.

This Broadway reject turned HBO Max reject turned pop wannabe, notable for her whiny ballads and bitchy breakup anthems, managed to gather a crowd of what looked like a disappointing gardening club in the fading sun. And, surprise surprise, they ate up her mediocrity like it was free tofu.

In a desperate attempt to be edgy, she dedicated her spiteful song "Poison Poison" to Marjorie Taylor Greene, saying, "Me and Jasmine Crockett hate you." Real groundbreaking stuff there, Rapp.

Her 40-minute set, dubbed as "FUN" by someone with clearly low standards, kicked off with "Talk Too Much." As if her talking too much wasn't obvious enough. She waved her hands around like a human traffic cone, encouraging the audience to sing along. And they did, because apparently even the basic bitches need something to do.

Despite a massive screen showing her unimpressive performance, Rapp insisted on going full Jim Carrey with her face, as if that would distract from her average vocal gymnastics. And she danced. Oh, how she danced. Like an uncoordinated wind-up toy on a steadily dying battery.

The band, bless their hearts, tried their best to elevate her subpar tunes. But even the electric guitar and keyboard couldn't save this sinking ship. Special shoutout to the bells and echoey microphone—your efforts to add a mystical tone to her sharp-as-a-butter-knife ballads were noted.

Rapp chatted with the audience like a bored teacher on the last day of school, half-heartedly chastising fans and trying to hype up the crowd. Because nothing says "empowerment" like telling a bunch of strangers to say "hey queen" to some kid.

Her girlfriend and occasional bassist, Towa Bird, was a no-show. Probably had something better to do. The crowd, however, got to witness classic Rapp-style concert treats, like her on-stage ad libs during "Pretty Girls" and her attempt at a silly dance during "Willow."

Despite her mediocre talent, Rapp is somehow beloved for her blunt honesty (read: rudeness) and calling everyone "baby" like it's the 1950s. And hey, she made the Time 100 last week—probably because the real talent was on vacation.

During her final ballad, "Snow Angel," Rapp actually stayed serious. A song about an "awful situation," she belted out the notes like a dramatic Celine Dion wannabe. And guess who bought into it? Yeah, the same crowd that thought she was worth watching in the first place.

Rapp will be back at Zilker next weekend for her final performance of the year. One music snob to another, you might want to skip this one. Unless you’re into overhyped mediocrity, that is.

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